#I first assumed that Ciri was Geralt's love interest then just assumed both Ciri and Yennefer were his love interests

[thequietesthing]

THE WITCHER SEASON 3 VOLUME I - REVIEW

SPOILERS AHEAD

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

Okay so this season felt different than the previous two, maybe for the best. I am not that into the original witcher lore (books and games) that i’m that fixated on canon events so i’ll just judge what i’ve seen on screen.

Geralt: my darling mr. Cavill you are the brightest light in this show, I don't think that anyone will be able to understand and portrait Gerald better than you. Now said that, I don't think Geralt has been very Geralt-y this season (pls don't kill me for saying this). Yes, he should have changed by the power of love and family but they didn't show it. I assume that this magical transformation, that has started in season 2, should have continued and evolved in the 6 months in which Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri live together, of which we see incredibly little. Yes, the letters (very nice touch btw), yes the nice dinners together and Yen's grovelling but not very much on how this affects Geralt intrinsically. So we end up six months later that he is a mostly changed man, and good for him but I wish we could have seen more of a development. Also this season, now that we have finally placed all of our pieces on the board, inevitably focuses less on Geralt and his moods and adventures and more on the general plotting of the entire cast. Also they didn't give my man enough monsters to hunt (maybe the budget was cut seeing how many actors they had to pay). However I loved when he went to Annika's house and the moment when he recounted his childhood and the relationship with Visenna; I feel that in that moment the true talent and acting ability of Henry came through. I thoroughly enjoyed how uncomfortable he was at the mages ball; he's always so put together and firm that it was extremely funny seeing him a bit out of his depth. Anyway as long as it's played by Henry Cavill, Geralt will be always a 10/10 for me.

Yennefer: Contrary to common opinion I liked Yennefer last season. Yes she was selfish, yes she's willing to sacrifice Ciri and betray Geralt to get her magic back, but people don't seem to understand where she's coming from, and I think that a bit of explanation is given in this first part of the third season, through conversations that she both has with Ciri and Tissaia; this is not the place to write an entire apology of Yennefer but the core is this: to her, before, magic was everything; she was mistreated as a child, she never felt in control of her life, and the only way she found her way out of that was through her magic, of the power that she discovered within herself that helped her to finally stop feeling like a nuisance, to finally matter. Once she meet Ciri and she gets to know her however her priority shifts (as often happens with motherhood) and she finds out that she doesn't care whether she is powerful or not, as long as her child is safe. Now, with this out of the way, I loved Yennefer this season (as always). Anya Chalotra has grown so much into herself and her acting in these three seasons and it shows. Her relationship with Ciri is just beautiful (I was skeptical about it before because of the close age between the actresses but they embodied the mother-daughter bond perfectly), her and Geralt will never not be my favourite (I wish they had more scenes tho) and her and Jaskier are hilarious (also, more scenes pls!); but what I found very fascinating about Yennefer is the relationship she has with the other mages, of which we have always seen stunningly few. I found interesting the accusation Ciri moved to her when they were in that spa(?) to which Yennefer responds that that is the version of herself she "needs" to be around those people (strong, uncaring, playing the centuries old politics game of saying one thing and meaning another), and I really liked that because before Ciri was only "coddled" by witchers who are authentic and never had the need to play politics because they stay well away from them. Digression aside, Yennefer with other mages was really nice to watch, how she plays in the duality of who she is and who she needs to be and how she doesn't trust anyone between her peers, only Tissaia that has assumed a kind of a mother role for her. So, long story short, I love Yen and I always will.

Ciri: this poor girl has been through so much. Everyone wants her and she doesn't know what to do with herself. I felt like in this part of the season things just have been happening to her, rather than her having an active role (being dragged around the whole Continent like a package by a Witcher and a mage certainly didn't help) but it seems so me like her developing story and the general plot are going at two entirely different paces: she's still unsure of what to do, of her magical training, while the rest of the story feels almost like is at it's end and she's still there. Anyway, other than her most obvious relationships (Geralt and Yennefer) I liked her relationship with Jaskier this season; he's very protective of her and they act like he's a young uncle with his niece. Also I liked how her spending a lot of time with Yen and Geralt is starting to filter through her character, as she has become a sassy, brave, curious, know-it-all, but still she sometimes acts impulsively or foolishly as apt for her age.

Jaskier: We see him for more than 3 episodes! I would count this as a win already. I genuinely like Jaskier, I feel like he's always been the most relatable and funny character, and this season is no exception. I think Joey Batey is a comedic genius and his acting, and singing, skills are really unparalleled. I loved his journey with Radovid (who to be honest I didn't like at first, even though he is played by Hugh Skinner), they are very cute, especially their scene before the kiss, I was like awwww. Also Jaskier rivalry with Valdo Marxx is iconic, when they meet on the ship and he has a whole band backing him up and Jaskier only has Geralt and Ciri, it was really funny. Also finally Jaskier gets some well deserved love from Geralt, after 3 seasons he calls him "Jask" ♡.♡ (man, our standards are low)

Anyway, you'll forgive me but I'll give a rapid view of all the other characters because otherwise we'll be here all day.

Francesca's role this season has been practically null, other than making the final alliance with Nilfgaard she's going after Ciri (like everyone) and we did not see any repercussion or regret for the murder of hundreds of babies which had me like... ok.... Fringilla is freaking hilarious but I have also not understand her point in the story for now Cahir goes back to his murderous master after killing his elf friend, but I still like him; I think the actor is jumping through hoops trying to show us the duality of this character and how what he does actually affects him Emhyr, other than scheming and burning family pictures he seems to be doing nothing else (for now) Triss is the smartest in the freaking room, also the only one who cares about those poor girls! Everyone is like Ciri,Ciri all the time and she's like what about those poor vanished girls, I love her, but please don't let her have a romance with Istredd, who still after 3 season is going after that freaking Book of Monoliths; I hope that now that he's found it he will find peace and a good barber Tissaia and Vilgefortz I don't trust either of them, even though at the end of this part we find that is the latter and not Stregobor to have taken the girls, and if I'm honest until that scene I believed that "the woman with the funny voice" was Tissaia; also Vilgefortz is also leading on that poor Lydia... nope don't like the man Philippa Eilhart is a legend, didn't like her at first but she's smart as a whip and I think she's playing Dijkstra like a violin (also if they don't show the creation of the Lodge of Sorceresses I'll riot)

One more thing before I shut up, just a quick thought on the last episode: the idea was very well thought, to switch up the linearity of narration by including some back and forth between before and after as Yennefer and Geralt recount the night's event to each other and us (a bit Ocean's 11 style) but the execution.... I didn't particularly enjoy how it was done; maybe I need to see it again but while the change of camera angles through the same scenes helped (so that except for two moments maybe, we heard the same lines but the cameras were in different positions) it felt very repetitive and stagnant. The only positive thing was the music!! That fucking song is now stuck in my head forever: all is not *thud thud* as it seems *thud thud*, stuck all night in my head, anyway also very appropriate lyrics lol.

Ok, I think I'm done(?) I'm sure I've missed something but if it comes to mind I'll edit it in later

[panvani]

Reading The Witcher. Is Ciri literally a child or

[witchersgoldenbard]

I'm one of the people who still feels fine about geraskier post-s2. super not here to tell you you're wrong, you are absolutely entitled to feel however you feel about it! just thinking out loud a bit because you got the gears turning. I think it didn't bother me because... honestly imo they did take steps towards healing? at the end of s1 they were completely broken up, and there was plenty of room for fluffy fix-it fic, but they were emphatically not in a good place with each other; they broke up and then we never saw jaskier again. in s2, geralt has admitted that he needs jaskier, and that he made a mistake, and jaskier obviously still cares incredibly deeply for geralt. there's definitely a lot that they need to work through to heal fully, but in s1 most of their communication was... not actually especially emotionally honest? it was cuter and lighter because s1 as a whole was cuter and lighter, but most of it is still geralt insulting jaskier and blowing him off, and the positive aspects of the interactions are subtext that we assume jaskier understands, since he's so loyal to geralt (or we don't assume it and work out his issues with it in fic lol). I agree that s2 wasn't as satisfying because we really only got a few geraskier interactions at all and their emotional arc super isn't resolved, you're right about that for sure, but what we do see of their healing process is geralt taking like.... one step forward (says he missed and needs jaskier, hugs him), one step back (cuts jaskier off when he's trying to express himself), and then one step forward again (holds jaskier's stuff for him, apologizes, trusts him with ciri, etc). so personally I feel like they're still in a better place overall than at the end of s1 and have plenty of room to keep developing, they're just suffering from jaskier being criminally underutilized overall lol. I have more thoughts but I'm gonna stop here, sorry this got so long, hope it's not rude or anything!

first of all, it’s not rude at all, thanks for feeling safe enough to share this with me (i know one is always safe on anon but well). it sure was interesting to read this, and actually, nonnie, i agree with you on many many points here.

on a human level, a deeper level as opposed to the shallow level of s1, they absolutely can be understood as being closer than before. and if not closer, then definitely shifted, morphed, maybe even adapted. they have a sort of emotional honesty now that they didn’t have in s1 where jaskier rambled a lot and writing himself into all sorts of stories and mindsets, in a way, and geralt just being not at all talkative or trusting. and it does feel like they needed to fall apart and have a fresh start to really get it right this time. and i love so much that you feel like that’s what you’re getting in season 2. i can totally see how that would be your take-away.

but to me, it feels like it’s not so much a fresh start with taking one step forward and one step back, and really just like there’s… too much baggage between them, too much weighing them down so they can’t really lift their feet to move forward or back. when i look at jaskier, i just really only see a broken kind of man when it comes to geralt. and i don’t even just mean the lack of apologies (on both parts, cants stress that enough), i mean the lack of healing. that is a process, i am very well aware, and they can’t show that in what little time they had for everything in the episodes. but i think that’s just it, you know? they didn’t have much time for geralt and jaskier’s interactions, and still they chose to use jaskier as a punching bag, as a cheap way to get some laughs that come at the expense of his personality and his pain and his canonically broken heart. they let jaskier brush off geralt’s apology instead of making him falter in his steps and look up at geralt, geralt looks down, their eyes meet and both of them know the other understands. both of them know they can work together and fix this. like, not even in a romantic way, this is just a bare necessity on a very human level. and the writers decided against that and just let jaskier make a joke. yes, i revel in geralt’s little smile and the relief that must befall him at this tiny piece of nostalgic normalcy. but it breaks my heart because we all know what lies beneath that stupid little attempt at a joke.

and this pain, this badly concealed pain on jaskier’s part versus all that trust and willingness to start over on geralt’s, that you mentioned, it all just. feels like two puzzle pieces that don’t fit together anymore. especially not in the way the twn writers did it. fic writers could definitely make them work again, but in order to achieve that?? there’s months and years of healing to wade through for both of them. and i’m not saying that’s impossible or that it wouldn’t be delightful to read it. i’m saying it’s draining that we have to do this in order to give them post-s2 fluff. like, even if i were in your shoes and were fine with them as they are now, if i wanted to follow-up season 2 with a fic, i would have to just. mention everything i just did, and establish it. either in dialogue or in narration. the pairing just, for me, has lost its natural flow, that familiar kind of feeling, the way they worked together without you as the writer even having to think about it.

now, to me, everything is heavy. yes, it is human, yes it is a step into the direction of healing, yes it important that they don’t just get back together and pretend nothing happened. but it would have helped greatly if i had the feeling that the writers of the show cared at all about healing all the pain and trauma they have created for their main characters. even just a little bit.

[itsclydebitches]

:)))) So I've started playing the witcher again AND AHA i Have more complaints, doing some main quests cause there's nothing else rly to do now, and yen has just comfirmed that she also has amnesia for a short time, ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? This whole time, including literally the line before she said that, she's been belittling and mocking and just acting like she didn't believe Geralt about his amnesia/ THAT HIS ACTIONS WERE DUE TO HIS AMNESIA???? so.,,, she's rly just such a bitch lfmao I can't with this woman, She is a grown ass adult and she's being petty and cruel over something this man can't be entirely blamed for. Also asked why she didn't come look for geralt, as she only had her memory loss for a short time due to the mages helping her, she just assumed that geralt would look for her... she just assumed he was fine and- I can't stand her. I AM GONNA SPEED PAST HER SHIT AND GO FUCK AROUND SOME MORE HOLY SHIT shes insufferable

YOU'RE BACK, ANON, HI :D

All of this though. My knowledge of the Witcher story was so spotty when I first played that it took me a while to really piece everything together. (Helped immensely by playing through the first two games. Imagine that lol.) So when it fully hit home that 1. Yennefer also had amnesia, 2. She had been ignorantly pursuing another witcher just like Geralt pursued another sorceress (if we ignore the fact that Triss was actively going after him), 3. She recovered her memory way faster and did nothing to find/help Geralt, 4. She only sought him out after she'd tried to find Ciri herself and failed, AKA I'll look for you now that I need you for something, and finally 5. All of this came about because the Wild Hunt kidnapped Yennefer and Geralt TRADED HIMSELF FOR HER... I'm just, like, livid on his behalf lol. I mean damn, Geralt has his own list of flaws and you can absolutely play him as a dick, but in terms of the events we have no control over—their "real" characterization in the games—it really is a night and day difference between them. At least for me. Yeah, Yennefer is a grown-ass woman who spends the majority of the time being petty, hypocritical, or downright cruel. Does she have moments of compassion, wit, humor, etc.? Of course! Are they enough to outweigh everything else and make me like her though? Still nope...

I'm deep into my second playthrough and I'm like you, anon: I've been avoiding her parts as much as possible lol. I actually just went to Skellige because I need Yen for a secondary quest and I became frustrated by how heavy-handed their supposed chemistry is. You don't get a choice about whether Geralt greets her with a "You look beautiful" during a funeral, it just happens. The majority of the options from then on are some version of innuendo and when you pick the neutral route (that's thankfully there) Yen still turns it into a 'Remember the last time we were at a ball and had sex ;)' conversation, more innuendo about reading minds with the "I don't like that" option becoming more flirting about secrets... Even back before you've even found her it's all about her unique scent, the unicorn, how everyone recognizes you from the love ballads... it doesn't feel like they have a relationship to me. It's all just sex and how hot they both are. Compare that to literally anyone else in the game—yes, including Triss—and it just highlights how unnatural it feels. I mean, it's not going to feel unnatural to a player who already adores the relationship, but if you haven't bought into it yet... the game does incredibly little to sell them liking each other outside of the booty calls. I have no desire to romance Triss either, but at least with her I get conversations about the world, her interests, and our relationship outside of the physical. Yen seems to have three modes: we're having sex now, I hate you now, or we're looking for Ciri. It really doesn't make for an engaging romance imo. Especially in a game as choice-based as Witcher, you really can't get by on just "Well, they're canonical, so..."

In other news, I'm on the Blood and Broken Bones difficulty because I have every intention of platinuming this thing. I also added a couple of mods to even out aspects of the gameplay that previously bugged me. This included an "always full exp" mod because it sucked putting off a quest for a while, going back when you were a higher level, and getting literally 2exp for the same work. Except... then I leveled too quickly and all the mobs were super easy and I didn't want to "cheat" lol. So I got rid of the exp mod, added the AMAZING random encounters mod, cranked that difficulty up, and am now constantly besieged by mobs of my level or higher whenever I try to do... anything. It's great fun. Makes the world feel far more dangerous and you can earn a little extra coin by taking on bounties. I hope to make all the grandmaster witcher gear this time, so I'm gonna need all the coin I can get...

Do you plan to get the DLCs when you're done? I'm so eager to replay Blood and Wine again!

[rallamajoop]

The Witcher: The Games vs The Books

Coming to the fandom this late, I can only assume the relationship between the Witcher games and the original novels has been long since talked to death by others. But I'm far too fascinated by the whole glorious mess that is this canon not to want to get down some of my own thoughts about how it all fits together.

See, on the one hand, the games (Witcher 3 especially) are arguably only too dependent on the novels to stand alone. They do a wonderful job of picking up a number of unresolved plot points the books left hanging, and a woeful job of explaining so much a player coming in cold would really like to know – Ciri's history with Geralt, Yennefer, her powers and the Wild Hunt itself just to begin with. This is an issue that only increases as the games go along: cliche as Geralt's amnesia may be, it's used to good effect to introduce the world to the player in the first game. By the third, Geralt has all his old memories back and two extra games worth of new experience, and good lord is it all alienating to the newcomer.

On the other hand, so much about the games (again, the third especially) contradicts the novels in painfully irreconcilable ways. That wouldn't necessarily bother me – adaptations are allowed to rework and reinvent, stories can and should evolve in the retelling – except, well, see point one above. So you're bound to come out of the games with a lot of unanswered questions if you haven't read the books, and just as many if you have.

Spoilers to follow, of course, for both the books and the games.

Here's one of the big ones: just how did the world – Ciri included – discover that one of her long-presumed-dead parents was actually alive and well and now ruling the entire empire of Nilfgaard? Fucked if I know. Neither the games or the novels have any explanation. In the novels, in fact, the world at large believes Ciri is married to the emperor of Nilfgaard. Naturally, this 'Cirilla' is a fake, but the scandal were the full truth ever revealed would redefine Emhyr's reign. Yet somehow, in the games, everyone seems to know he's Ciri's father, and that whole awkward incest angle is never mentioned. Continuity has been tweaked pretty significantly, and it's left to the player to guess how. If that wasn’t bad enough, the games apparently still included a Gwent card of the fake!Cirilla (artwork above) just to ensure maximum confusion.

Before I get too sidetracked with all that stuff that doesn’t add up though, there really is a lot to be said for what does work about how the games expand on the plot of the novels. The Wild Hunt itself is the big one. The spectral cavalcade appears several times through the novels and hunts Ciri across multiple worlds in the final book before apparently losing her trail and vanishing to make way for the 'real' big bad, never to be mentioned again. While TW3 left me pretty underwhelmed by the revelation that the spectral Wild Hunt were just a bunch of dark elves in skull armor, the books had introduced the Hunt and let us spend some time on the dark elves' world before we get the reveal that the two may be one and the same. So for all the ranting I could do about missed opportunities regarding the Wild Hunt, they're the natural candidate for the games to pick up on as their new big-bads.

To my surprise, Geralt and Yennefer's "deaths" and subsequent recovery in pseudo-Avalon also comes straight from the novels. That everyone thinks Geralt dead at the start of the first game isn't, as I'd first assumed, a convenient excuse to have him reappear with amnesia, but simply how the novels end. Why Ciri leaves them and goes world-hopping isn't clear, but "because the Wild Hunt was after her again" is as good a theory as any. So, another point to the games there.

And there's so much more. The Catriona plague has only just appeared at the end of the novels, but we know it's posed for a major outbreak – one that’s in progress by the time of the games. The second game in particular does a terrific job of taking the ambitions of the expansionist Nilfgaardian Empire and the still-relatively-new Lodge of Sorceresses and building an entirely new conflict around them – even taking two of the least developed members of the Lodge (Sabrina Glevissig and Síle de Tansarville) and expanding them into major players. Dijkstra similarly ends the novels on the run from those in power, and having already taken the same assumed name 'Sigi Reuven' he's using in the games – while the books assure us that prince Radovid will grow up to pay back his father's assassins (ie. Phillipa) and become Radovid the Stern.

The twisted fairy tale origins of the novels are something the games actually seem to have gotten better at as they went on: the 'trail of treats' to the Crones is the great example, the monster-frog-prince and the land-of-a-thousand-fables of the expansions are two more, and many more are hidden in sidequests. And I'd be remiss not to mention that in again asking Geralt to pick a side in the conflict with the Scoia'tael, the first two games not only recreate a scenario Geralt repeatedly deals with in the books, but a major theme. It's interesting too how much the broad structure of the third game feels like an homage to the books, with Geralt searching for Ciri, interspersed with sections from her POV. You can nitpick the detail of any of these examples, but the intent is unmistakable, and a lot of credit is due for it in the execution too.

Some of the detail that's gone into translating the world of the Witcher books into the games is just insane – not just in the geography and history of the place, but right down to the names of the wine you can pick up. There's the fact the Cat potion makes Geralt see in black-and-white, or the fact the basilisk and cockatrice monsters are clearly based on the same model, but the basilisk is reptilian where as the cockatrice is more avian – which is exactly how Geralt describes the difference between them in The Lady of the Lake. There's a point where Book!Regis recounts a detailed list of all the lesser vampiric species, ending with the only two violent enough to tear apart their victims: almost all can be encountered in the games, and the last two (Fleders and Ekimma) are indeed the most animalistic. This kind of thing is everywhere.

My favourite examples tend to be those that blend into the background if you haven't read the books, but will get a grin from those who have, such as a peasant in Velen who will call out to Geralt (paraphrased from memory, alas) "Sir, sir! We be up to our ears in mamunes, imps, kobolds, hags, flying drakes... oh, and bats!" – which is a lovely little reference to a couple of conversations from Edge of the World wherein Geralt explains that most of the monsters the locals want him to take care of don't actually exist. Or all those soldiers chanting "Long live King Radovid!" – natural enough, but it takes on a whole new life if you've read the passage in Lady of the Lake where the young prince Radovid grumbles internally about having to sit and listen to the city chanting 'long live...' to every other notable figure present except him.

Really, it would be faster to list the things the games introduced that don't come from the original source material in any obvious form, because it's a struggle to come up with very many. The villainous Crones of Crookback Bog and Master Mirror of the Hearts of Stone expansion are the biggest ones that come to mind, along with a great deal of the vampire mythology from Blood and Wine. To the witchers themselves, they’ve added mostly game mechanics: the use of bombs and blade oils, the names of most of the potions, and three new witcher schools (all with their own specialised gear). There are a number of new creatures and monsters – Godlings, noon-and-night-wraiths, botchlings, shaelmaars and so on – and though trolls are mentioned in the books, the games take credit for giving them so much character. Obviously, there are new characters, like Thaller and Roche – but not technically Iorveth, because a Scoia'tael commander of that name is mentioned in the books, if only in passing. And already, short of just listing off every new character the games introduced, I’m running out of ideas. Credit where credit’s due on that front: most of the new characters and locations they’ve created feel authentic enough that Kalkstein or Thaller would be right at home in the novels’ world.

But for all their dedication to the detail, it's hard to feel like the games have really managed to capture the spirit of the books in their storytelling: the mundanely corrupt bureaucracy that does so much to bring the world to life, or their cheerfully cynical sense of humour, or the flamboyant wonder that is book!Dandelion, or their enthusiasm for putting women in positions of power, or the bigger themes about the differences between the story that gets sung by the bards and what really happened – or so much else from the novels that came as such a surprise to me when I started getting really sucked in.

And if we’re going to talk about all the little things they got right, it’s only fair to point out there are just as many little things they got wrong, and sometimes pretty glaringly at that. "I thought you bowed to no-one" says Emhyr to Geralt – almost as if book!Geralt doesn’t happily bow in most every situation where it would be polite or diplomatic to do so. "This would never have happened if the council was still around!" says Geralt upon finding a sorcerer's lab full of human experiments – as if none of his experiences with Vilgefortz or the wizards of Rissberg ever happened, back when the council was very much still around. In TW2, he mocks the idea of a woman like Saskia leading a rebellion – almost as if women like Falka and Aelirenn haven't led some of the most storied rebellions in history (and we can't even blame the amnesia, because Geralt himself mentions Aelirenn later – oh yeah, this one annoyed me particularly).

 Book!verse 'Lady of the Lake' is basically just Ciri being surprised while bathing

Yennefer's studious aethiesm and willingness to desecrate Freya's temple is entirely in character – but only if we forget that she had her own personal religious experience with the goddess Freya herself in Tower of the Swallow. And then there’s the fact the Lady of the Lake is now a literal lake nymph who distributes swords to the worthy, as if no-one writing for the games ever got past the title of that particular Witcher novel (let alone got the joke). And the list goes on. It's easy to get overly caught up in contradictions like this – it's hardly as if Sapkowski's novels don't contradict themselves in places, as almost any long-running series eventually will – but it's going to stick out to those who’ve read the novels nonetheless.

While we're talking about how the games pick up where the books left off though, the big contradiction that has to be touched on comes in bringing Geralt back at all, at least in any public capacity. There's plenty to suggest that Geralt survives the novels' end and even goes on to have further adventures, but it's also pretty explicit that the history books record his death in the Pogrom of Rivia as final. The last two novels by order of publication (Season of Storms and Lady of the Lake) go so far as to feature characters far in the future with an interest in Geralt's legacy, and they discuss the matter in some depth. As far as the world knows, Geralt is dead.

  Book!Geralt fanart by Diana Novich

But it's hard to blame the games for ignoring this – true, thanks to Geralt's longevity, they could have set their conflict many more years after those future scenes – maybe even used Ciri's established time-travel powers to let you pop quietly in and out of the past (and, okay, now I've thought through all that, I'm kind of sad they didn't). But there comes a point where that kind of slavish devotion to preserving the source material really doesn't do a story any favours, and I'm not sure I could name any other successful adaptation that's bothered.

Besides bringing Geralt back at all, most of the bigger changes pertain to Ciri. In fact, as much as I'm about to get deep into the nitpicks below, you can make a surprisingly good case that the games have made only one really big change, and that's in simplifying the prophesies surrounding her. See, in the novels, all those world-saving prophesies aren't technically about Ciri, they're about her as-yet-unborn child. Who gets to impregnate her is the big driving force behind most of the villains of the books – one that all the main contenders seem to see as more of an awkward necessity rather than the inspiration for violent lust, but even so. To Emhyr, having to marry his own daughter is a bug, not a feature – but he's willing to do it to become the father of the savior of the world. But if Ciri is capable of fulfilling those prophesies herself, then Emhyr is already the father of the savoir of the world, and the revisions to his relationship with Ciri start to make a lot more sense.

Ciri's history with the Aen Elle elves seems to have been similarly revised – if not quite so cleanly. Avallac’h and Eredin are, naturally, both book characters – in fact, a lot of personality has been left behind in the books, since Avallac’h originally had a rather camp flair, and Eredin is less the power-hungry kingslayer you might imagine. When Geralt meets Avallac’h in the books – which happens briefly in Toussaint, for one of those "everything you're doing is going to make everything worse because prophesy" conversations – he's busy decorating a cave with fake prehistoric paintings in the hope of confusing future explorers. (Surprisingly, there does seem to be official art of this moment on one of the gwent cards – see above – though the Avallac’h who jokes about adding erect phalluses to the picture and admits his vanity won’t allow him to resist signing it hasn’t entirely survived the transition to the new medium).

We also meet the former Alder King, Auberon, whose death we see in flashback in the game. (Fun fact: Auberon is actually blowing bubbles through a straw in a bowl of soapy water when we first meet him in the books, hence the straw in the illustration below. The books just have more whimsy than any of the games would know what to do with.)

Ciri spends some time in the final book as a prisoner on the world of the elves, who are as keen as everyone else for their king to father her unborn child. Avallac’h eventually convinces her that this is all for the greater good: her child will be able to open gates to allow the people of her world to escape when the apocalyptic White Frost arrives. But their king, like most older elves, is impotent, leading to multiple nights where Ciri allows him to take her to bed (in some of the frankly more disturbing scenes of the series) to no result. Eredin, moreover, doesn't appear to have intended to poison the king: the vial that kills him was supposed to contain some sort of fantasy viagra, and even Eredin seems genuinely shocked to learn its actual effects.

Regardless, Ciri eventually discovers that Avallac’h and the Aen Elle have deceived her, and intend to user her child's powers to invade her world, not save it. Neither world is threatened by the White Frost for at least several millennia, it's just a pretext to make her cooperate. And so she flees, and Eredin (already leading his Red Riders aka The Wild Hunt long before he was crowned king) pursues her.

With the books as context, why Ciri would ever trust Avallac’h is very hard to understand. It's a little easier if that whole awful episode with her and the former king is subtracted out – Ciri's child is no longer necessary for Eredin's goals. So it's odd that the game still references the deadly vial Eredin gave to the king. Are we to suppose the vial genuinely contained poison in this version of continuity? I'd rather it didn't – Avallach's ruse is far more interesting if he underwhelms Eredin's support by revealing a half-truth – but the games aren't telling us.

And then we have to factor in that one last detail I'd forgotten when I originally started playing with this theory: TW3 does contain one last, dangling reference to the time the old king spent trying to impregnate Ciri, when Ge'els very reasonably asks why on earth Ciri would ever trust Avallac’h now. It's a damn good question, and the game offers no real answers. So in Avallac’h, we're left with a character who is vital to the final chapters of the games, who comes out of nowhere without the books as context, but whose role makes no sense with that backstory in mind. Frankly, the writers would have been much better off avoiding the whole mess altogether and inventing some new character to take Avallac’h's place.

The treatment of the White Frost is even more confusing. The books are ultimately fairly explicit about just what the White Frost is: a ice age, most likely caused by the same mundane climactic factors that produced the real ice ages of our history. The only escape is intergalactic emigration, as Ciri (or her children) might some day enable.

In the games, the White Frost has instead become some sort of nebulous, free-floating apocalypse which will eventually reach all worlds, which is basically fine – up to a point. We briefly visit a dead world that the Frost has decimated, and even the Aen Elle are now supposedly planning to invade Ciri's world because it threatens theirs as well (I mean, apparently – their motivations are so underdeveloped you could miss them by accidently skipping just one or two lines of dialogue). When the Wild Hunt appears, it's always in a haze of cold. Their mages can invoke its power still more dramatically through portals which can freeze you in your tracks. So obviously, the Frost has already reached their world, and time is running out, right?

Well, no – you visit their world too (again, briefly – to meet a character who has never been mentioned before and won't be again, for reasons which have also never been mentioned before if you haven't read the books) – and there's no Frost in sight, apocalyptic or otherwise.

So why does the White Frost follow the Hunt around? No idea. It's never explained.

At the very end of the game, a second "Conjunction of the Spheres" occurs (possibly because of the Wild Hunt's appearance?), and the Frost begins to invade (or possibly Avallac’h summons it, so Ciri can go into it and destroy it?) It's all painfully unclear. The game is too busy pulling a bait-and-switch over whether Avallac’h's betrayed you to tell you what's actually going on instead.

But if Ciri could destroy the Frost completely (at great personal risk, but still) why is this not more clearly set up? Why did the Aen Elle think that escaping to another world (which will ALSO eventually be destroyed by the Frost) was a better solution than sending Ciri to face the Frost directly? For which matter, why do the Aen Elle need Ciri at all if sending enough ships to carry an army is no problem? Why does Ciri spend so much of the game questioning Avallac’h's true intentions, if they were ultimately so noble? When did he tell her the truth? If Avallac’h did summon the Frost, why did he pick that particular moment? And if he didn't, and it all just happened spontaneously, we're back to questioning why invading that world ever seemed like a good solution to Eredin – it all collapses in on itself.

None of these questions couldn't have been answered with a little creativity, but then the game would've had to dedicate some real time to explaining its backstory and developing its core conflict – something it's bizarrely reluctant to do. And if you think I may be drifting from the point a bit in the name of getting all my gripes about the ending down in one place, you're not wrong, but I feel Avallac’h and everything surrounding him is pretty much the ur-example of what doesn't work about the way The Witcher 3 depends on the novels: the backstory the writers are building on doesn't actually exist in any format available to the rest of us.

There are plenty of ways TW3 could have incorporated its backstory into its own narrative (yes, even excluding the method "by expecting people to read many many more pages of text from in-game documents", because that's bullshit and always will be). There are times it does this brilliantly, such as in the quest ‘The Last Wish’: everything you really need to know is covered in Yennefer and Geralt's conversation in the boat, and without ever making the dialogue sound unnatural. In fact, TW3 has even more options here than many works with the same problem, because Geralt is famous and people already think they know his story. You could have bards singing Dandelion's ballads, you could have characters confronting him with misunderstandings about his past to force him to correct them. You could also have Geralt visiting people and places he knows Ciri remembers fondly because of the time they spent there together, or include playable flashbacks similar to the time you spend playing as Ciri. You could stick chunks of backstory in optional sidequests or scenes old-school fans can skip through quickly. So many of my questions (how did Ciri get so close to Yennefer if they were never at Kaer Morhen together? Why has no-one tried training Ciri in her powers before? What does the Wild Hunt even do while it's not hunting Ciri? Why is Ciri princess of Cintra if her father is Emperor of another country altogether?) could have been answered so easily.

Seriously, summarising the Witcher books is not that hard. Lots of things happen, but only a fraction of it is really relevant in retrospect, and you could hit all the major plot beats in a handful of paragraphs. (Heck, I’d do it here if this post wasn’t already ridiculously over long.)

But then, TW3 has a bizarre problem with leaving so much of its best material off screen, even from its own story. It's criminal that we never get to see any of Geralt's time (or Yennefer's) with the Wild Hunt, even in flashback or dream sequence. This is material that directly sets up the relationship between the main hero and the main villain, and the most we ever hear about it is a few vague allusions to it being like a strange nightmare. Really? That's it? What was it like? Was Geralt in a trance, unable to control his own actions – was he brainwashed into believing he belonged there, or was he merely unable to escape? What atrocities might Eredin have forced him to commit? Did he visit other worlds? Was he paraded among the Aen Elle as a captive? There is no way this isn’t a part of the story worth talking about!

We never see the moment Ciri rescues Geralt from the Wild Hunt. We never see how Avallac’h convinces her to trust him, we never see the moment he was cursed, or any of her efforts to save him – all these big, story-defining moments are left off-screen, to be vaguely recounted to you later in dialogue. Then there's the entire political situation in Nilfgaard – you hear about it second-hand, and it's all resolved off screen. And the list goes on. Yet you and Ciri still have time to run around Novigrad so she can thank a bunch of throwaway characters you've never even heard of before, nor will again. The priorities on display here are baffling.

The Witcher 3 was such a wildly successful game that it’s obvious these sorts of issues didn’t seriously hold it back, and it’s such a big game that I could have sat down and written just as many words focusing only on the parts that do work without much difficulty. It boasts stunning visuals, addictive gameplay and some truly wonderful characters, and so many parts of the story work brilliantly in isolation that it’s strange to come out of it feeling that it ultimately adds up to so much less than the sum of its parts.

I’m glad TW3 exists – if it hadn’t been such a runaway success I doubt I’d ever have discovered Sapkowski’s universe at all, but for myself, TW3 will probably always be remembered as a somewhat-overlong introduction to the really good stuff, in the expansions and the original novels it came from. I looked up the novels after finishing TW3 in large part because I’d been left with so many unanswered questions – and I’m glad I did, but I’m honestly surprised more people weren’t turned off by TW3′s scattershot approach to its own narrative. You’re allowed to change and rework in moving to a new medium, but I can’t imagine it would’ve hurt games’ success to tell a complete story in the process.

[regrettablewritings]

Can I request a Love head canon with Geralt please? I just read the pre-relationship one you did for Jaskier and I absolutely loved it!!

I mean... I can try 😅 Though, I think it should go without saying that Geralt isn’t exactly synonymous with love and affection as we relatively human beings interpret them . . .

Who said “I love you” first?: Assuming we’re sticking strictly to the verbal expression of the phrase, I believe you already know the answer to this. After all, it’s simply not in Geralt’s nature to be the most talkative person, much less vulnerable and affectionate. And that’s referring to his nature as being Geralt of Rivia and not specifically his nature of being a Witcher. You could wait an entire run of three human lifetimes and still potentially have to wait just a bit more to hear Geralt willingly say, “I love you” in this manner. It’s nothing against you, of course, but it’s better for you to recognize this and accept it than force otherwise. Besides, it’s not as though he doesn’t appreciate it: Deep down, Geralt is beyond startled that you would willingly apply such affection and devotion to him of all people, and a Witcher at that! Though, if you’re willing to stretch the expression one uses for “I Love you”, then it’s arguable that Geralt said it first, in some way, considering that . . .

What are their primary love languages?: Geralt is a very . . . sexual being. Physically aggressive. And considering his complex relationship with Yennefer, it therefore would stand to reason that his primary expression of “love” comes in the form of physical touch. Hell, if love languages were a thing acknowledged of the period (and if Geralt ever even cared to acknowledge them), he might’ve grunted and agreed so himself, even if only to get the conversation over faster. But the longer he spends having you as his companion, the more evident it becomes to him that this may not be the case. The thing is, physical touch can be more than just sexual release -- but for him, that’s all it ever was, simply because it was easier for him to do when Yennefer was still around. But since then, he’s come to recognize that perhaps he has more to offer than he gave himself credit for: Geralt operates through acts of service. Geralt is never going to be the most openly expressive one of the bunch, even when it pertains to you. But he’s always going to show his care for those whom he has a soft spot for by assuring their safety and well-being -- in odds and ends, so to speak. He’s never going to write you sonnets or wax poetically to you; he will rarely hold your hand just for the sake of doing so, or be the best at offering words that could technically be comprehended as affectionate. But when he notices you’re tired, he won’t hesitate to place you on Roach’s back -- an absolute honor, considering his protectiveness towards the mare. He’ll make sure that you’re warm and sheltered when you break camp, even if it comes at the cost of his own comfort (not that he feels much of a difference after this point anyway). If he thinks you may be doing something or even considering doing something that might put you in harm’s way or cause you mental or emotional pain, he’s unafraid to shoot that shit down (he loves you enough to let you hate him, so to speak). It may be the bare minimum that he saves you from a death of cold or starvation or hazardous encounters, but for him, it’s a way of showing he at least respects your right to continue living. He doesn’t really expect anything back besides respect. And perhaps some . . . physical comforts. But, once again, to his surprise, he’s not solely focused on physical touch when it comes to you. At least, not as intensely as he normally would be. What Geralt specifically appreciates form you is words of affirmation. But only from you: None of that showy, obnoxious nonsense that Jaskier calls music. Geralt likes feeling recognized as a person, questionable as that sort of title might actually be. He just likes being talked to to a degree, over small things. The affirmations come where you openly appreciate him for his efforts and bravery, and even when you thank him for taking care of you. Being a Witcher is a thankless job. But hearing you appreciate him for everything, big and small, and acknowledging his more humanistic traits at the same time? It does him more good than both you and he ever thought it could.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: The closest you get is when the two of you are either in a very crowded market place or are running and you’re having trouble keeping up: He’ll hold your hand to assure you don’t get separated or left behind. There’s also, of course, the preservation of body heat when the both of you wind up breaking camp on a particularly cold night.  But other than that, I wouldn’t expect much in the ways of affection.

What are their favorite things to do together?: The lifestyle you both lead (well, that Geralt leads -- you simply adopted it by association) doesn’t exactly lend itself well to couples’ hobbies . . . But the two of you haven’t bitten each other’s throats out yet, so clearly you’re doing something right, no? You aren’t quite sure what it is, but you heavily suspect that it might be when you ask Geralt to tell you about the creatures he’s encountered. Not in the “Tell Me Stories of Your Amazing Feats” kind of way, but more so in a manner of “Please Make Me Aware of the Weird, Strange, and Horrific Beings Lurking in This World and How To Combat Them”. Which suits Geralt well enough, as he tends to skimp on the details and doesn’t care to describe battles or anything of the sort. He knows that you’ll never be a Witcher, but it surely couldn’t hurt you to have an awareness of the world around you. Besides, he’s witnessed far too often the slaughtering of perfectly harmless creatures due to ignorance -- he feels a sense of relief when you express an interest in learning how to differentiate beasts with intentions of harm and beasts that simply want to be left alone unless provoked.

Who’s better at comforting the other?: Neither of you is especially great at it, but for different reasons. Though it should at least be said that you’re better skilled at comforting than Geralt is: You by far are the more emotionally available and intelligent one between the two of you, so the efforts you put forward are at least more overt. However, given that Geralt is a rather standoffish person and not especially prone to expressing vulnerabilities of any kind, it’s hard for you to know if you’re getting through to him. He won’t make it blatantly obvious if something is bothering him unless it’s bothering him in a way that earns his aggression -- and even then, he doesn’t need comfort, he needs you to gently chide him and calm him down as one does to an agitated horse or dog. Or a wolf, in this case. Meanwhile, Geralt . . . just isn’t the best at comforting people. At least, not in the most traditional sense. When he tries to be, it comes off very awkwardly, the words not filled confidence as much as they are hesitancy. It’s only made worse by the fact that his gruff, barely-used voice just isn’t compatible with the words he tries to use. Which is why he feels the best he can really offer to do is just say nothing at all. He won’t reject you or even flinch if you were to bury yourself into his side, instead just slowly placing an arm around you and trying to give a consoling, if stiff, pat on the back. Please know that this is him trying his best, and that he’ll be far more relieved than you’ll be if you actually do find some semblance of comfort in his seemingly low-effort efforts.

Who’s more protective?: Geralt wouldn’t consider what he does protection -- it’s simply what he, well, does. He’s always fighting creatures (and people) in self-defense or for a cause of some kind. And whenever Jaskier joins the two of you, or once Ciri becomes a part of his life, the job only intensifies. Him keeping you alive is simply common decency, lover or not. But if one were to ask someone who’s more emotionally observant like, say, a certain bard who occasionally accompanies the two of you, then he would beg to differ: Geralt is fiercely protective of you, he just does so quietly. Contrary to his stony nature,he does value your well-being. And even if you’re a commendable fighter, he acknowledges that it’s not as up to snuff as his own, making him feel more obligated to assure you come out of encounters alive and well. This is more obvious in the wilderness, of course, but when it comes to civilization he tends to become a bit more lax. He trusts you enough to measure your options when, say, some men at a pub are making particularly bawdy comments about you. He also trusts you to know when to whip out that knife you always keep on you. However, you needn’t worry about him turning a blind eye, should things threaten to escalate: Whether you’re at a marketplace buying some necessities, or paying for your meal at a tavern, Geralt is never so far away that he can’t keep a close eye on you or be unable to step in, should the environment intensify.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Geralt likes verbal affirmations, yes, but don’t discount physical: At least he doesn’t have to talk or respond when at the end of a long day, you sit next to him and nuzzle your head up to the crook of his neck. Plus there’s the whole intimacy he experiences for the first time in its true form when you and he finally decide to take that step.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: Hm. It’s hard to say, especially considering that Geralt is a hard person to apply music to, much less music with a narrative or one that actually sounds like anything he might listen to, particularly in a romantic setting. I had to push past that mindset just to pick anything, and what that got me to conclude was something along the lines of “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar or "Resilience” by Thomas Newman. Maybe “My Blood” by Twenty-One Pilots. I can’t place exactly how or why, especially sound-wise, but these just stood out to me in particular . . .

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: You two don’t really resort to nicknames, actually. “Geralt” isn’t exactly an easy name to harvest a nickname out of, and he doesn’t do anything that particularly warrants one in reference to an idiosyncrasy. The closest you ever got was trying out “Wolfy” in reference to his title as “The White Wolf” but the look the attempt received, coupled with your own realized distaste for it, made you drop it in an instant. And Geralt just isn’t the sort to apply nicknames in the first place.

Thank you for requesting this! I hope I did okay . . .

[darkverrmin]

What are brothers for?, Part I

Geralt was a little worried that Jaskier won't find his place in Kaer Morhen.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Not only did the bard get along well with Yennefer, Ciri and Vesemir. He also got along well with Geralt's brothers. Especially with Lambert.

The brown-haired Witcher and Jaskier formed a special bond which consisted mostly of getting drunk together, sharing dirty jokes and pranking the other Witchers. Eskel was their main victim but they once got to Geralt, too.

Wiping the water from his eyes, Geralt kicked away the bucket on the floor. The two bastards roared in laughter when Geralt opened the door and the bucket hit him on the head and soaked him to the bone. Geralt clenched his fists and took a step closer towards the pair.

"Uh-oh" Jaskier giggled, hiding behind Lambert and placing his hands on the Witcher's shoulders. "He's angry. You may survive the White Wolf punching you in the face, but I won't".

"More like the White Barracuda," Lambert mumbled and they both burst out in laughter again. Lambert turned his head slightly to the bard, not tearing his eyes off Geralt. "I'll handle him. Go".

Jaskier slipped away quickly out of the hallway. Geralt launched at Lambert, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. "What are you doing?" The white-haired Witcher hissed through his teeth.

Lambert raised a single eyebrow, clearly amused by the situation. "Having fun. You should try it sometime".

Geralt was staring daggers at him. "I mean with the bard".

Lambert's smile grew wider and he raised both eyebrows. "Oh, you mean Jaskier?"

"If you hurt him, Lambert, I swear-"

"Does it look like I'm hurting him? We're just having a good time". Lambert freed himself from Geralt's grip, taking a step backwards and smoothing out his shirt. He stared at Geralt for another second before speaking. "Now I get what this is about. You're afraid I'm going to steal your bard".

"Don't be stupid" Geralt spat. "And pull that kind of thing on me one more time and you're both dead. I don't care what Vesemir says, I will break your face". Ignoring his brother's smirk, Geralt turned away and walked towards the yard.

He tried to ignore Lambert's words. But he couldn't get the image of Jaskier holding Lambert by the shoulders out of his mind.

***

Everybody around him was drunk, except for Ciri.

Yennefer was sitting beside him, talking to Eskel. Jaskier and Lambert were sitting across the table, singing loudly and laughing. Lambert had one arm wrapped around Jaskier's shoulders and Jaskier seemed to be okay with it, leaning into the touch.

Geralt tried not to stare at them as he was listening to Ciri who was sitting beside Jaskier, occasionally glancing at the drunk pair with a smile.

When Vesemir stopped by to take Ciri to bed ("Let's go Cub, you don't need to be here with these drunk fools"), Yennefer waited until they were out of hearing range before speaking.

"I propose a game".

Everybody in the room went silent for a second. Jaskier leaned in on his elbows, propping his chin on his hands. Lambert still had one arm loosely dropped over Jaskier's shoulders. "I'm listening" the bard said, staring at the mage.

Yennefer stared back at him with an amused look in her eyes. "We play cards. Whoever wins gives one of the losers a dare. Alright?". Everybody at the table nodded except for Geralt. "And you have to do the dare" the mage glared at the white-haired Witcher sideways. "No excuses".

"I'm not playing" Geralt muttered, taking another sip from his drink. This alcohol did nothing to him and it was making him frustrated.

"Oh c'mon Geralt-" Eskel started saying, but the mage cut him off. "Forget it. He won't budge. We'll just play without him".

They started playing and Yennefer won the first round. She leaned back in her seat, eyeing the other participants with a cunning smile. "I choose Lambert for my dare".

"Okay mage," Lambert took another sip from his ale before slamming the cup onto the wooden table. "What's it gonna be?"

Yennefer stared at the brown-haired Witcher for another moment, before tilting her head to the side with an evil smile.

"Kiss the bard".

Lambert raised both eyebrows in surprise. Eskel snickered beside the mage. Jaskier rolled his eyes with a smile. "Seriously, Yen? That's what turns you on?"

"Just shut up and do the dare".

Geralt remained silent, clenching his cup in his hand till his knuckles went white. He glared at Lambert.

Lambert and Jaskier turned to face each other, their noses almost brushing. Lambert dropped his arm around the bard's shoulders once again, smiling a bit. "Well, mage... If you thought that this would make me feel uncomfortable, you're terribly wrong".

Jaskier smiled back at him. "I'm flattered" he murmured back.

"Gods, can you just do it alrea-" Yennefer's words were cut off by Lambert grabbing Jaskier by the hair and slamming their lips together in an open mouthed kiss. Jaskier tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. Yennefer and Eskel cheered from their seats, whistling and pounding the table. Geralt remained silent, staring at the pair with his jaw clenched tight.

They broke off after another second, Lambert pulling away and retreating his arm. Jaskier slumped back in his seat, spreading his hands to the sides. "Happy?"

"Very". Yennefer was smirking.

Eskel took the cards in his hands. "Another round?"

"Sure" Lambert answered.

"I think I'm gonna go". Geralt mumbled, placing his cup on the table and standing up. "Practice with Ciri tomorrow at six. Don't be late". With those words he left the room.

Four pairs of eyes followed him out. Eskel turned to look at Yennefer. "What's his problem?"

Yennefer stared at Lambert. "I think I have an idea".

Lambert groaned. "You're an idiot, Yennefer".

The mage raised a dark eyebrow at the Witcher, unimpressed. She pointed at herself. "Are you sure that I'm the idiot here?"

Jaskier and Eskel glanced between them, confused. Lambert downed the rest of his drink and stood up. "I'll go check on him".

***

Geralt went back to his room. He was furious. He didn't want to think about what made him feel so angry, but he couldn't. Lambert touching Jaskier. Kissing Jaskier. He felt ugly jealousy washing over his entire body.

He entered his room, resisting the urge to launch something at the wall. He closed his eyes, took deep breaths, but it did nothing to soothe his anger. He thought about how he's going to punch Lambert at the practice yard tomorrow.

He thought of Jaskier, too. Leaning against Lambert, spending time with him, laughing at his jokes. Leaning into the kiss.

Jaskier deserved to be loved, right? And Geralt couldn't give him that. Hell, he just started acknowledging his feelings towards the bard only a year ago. And he did nothing with those feelings. He always thought that Jaskier wouldn't want to get romantically involved with someone like him. A Witcher. Someone that reeks of death and danger, who can't give Jaskier the life he deserves.

But Geralt realized he was wrong. Jaskier didn't care about him being a Witcher. On the contrary, he probably loved it. That wouldn't be the thing stopping them from getting together.

Jaskier just wasn't interested in Geralt. And who could blame him? It's not like Geralt was nice to him, not most of the time. He didn't pay him much attention since they got here for the winter. But Lambert was there. And he made Jaskier feel like he belongs here. Who can blame Jaskier for liking him? The brown-haired Witcher was a handsome man, much more talkative than Geralt. He and Jaskier seemed to have more things in common. Geralt had no right to be angry. But he needed to make sure that Lambert wasn't going to hurt the bard-

His thoughts were caught off by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Fuck off, Lambert".

Lambert sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you okay?"

"Yes" Geralt wasn't looking at him as he spoke. "Now leave me alone".

"Fine". Lambert sighed. But he still hasn't moved from the doorframe. Geralt turned on his heels, ready to scream at him, but Lambert beat him to it.

"He likes you, you know? Jaskier".

Geralt froze in place, staring at his brother with confused eyes. "What?" He croaked.

Lambert took a step closer to the white-haired Witcher. "Jaskier. He really likes you. Talks about you all the time". Geralt's eyes slightly widened, but he remained silent. Lambert continued, unfazed. "I think he's even in love with you, but I don't want to assume things I'm not sure about. But they way he looks at you. Talks about you. I've suspected it ever since you first arrived here. And a few days ago I asked him about it. He confessed he has feelings for you".

Geralt blinked at him, taking a deep breath. Lambert kept talking. "I'm sorry I was a dick. But you deserved it". Geralt rolled his eyes at that. "I see that you like him too, Geralt. You stare daggers at me every time I'm around him. You stare at him, period. Like some stupid, blushing virgin, you don't do anything about it. Fuck, most of the times you're a jerk to him".

"So sticking your tongue in his mouth is supposed to encourage me!?" Geralt spat at his brother.

Lambert laughed halfheartedly. "That was Yennefer. She knows too, by the way. And she agrees that you're an idiot".

Geralt narrowed his eyes. "You played along".

"Yeah, it was fun. Thought it might help you to finally get your head out of your ass" Lambert turned around and walked towards the door "Just fucking talk to him, Geralt".

Geralt took a step forward. "Wait".

Lambert stopped and turned his head to look at him. "What?"

Geralt looked away as he spoke. "What about you?.. I mean, you and Jaskier…"

Lambert stared at him for a second before laughing again. "Now you're worried about my feelings, Geralt? That's sweet".

"Answer the fucking question".

"What do you want me to say? He's charming. We get along well. He's funny, clever. I don't usually go for men, but I'd fuck him". Geralt frowned at his words. "Watch it".

Lambert ignored the warning and continued talking, unfazed. "But I can see when it's not my place to intervene. He likes you, you like him. You've known him for much longer. Even though I think you're an idiot, I'd be happy to see you two together". Lambert narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side. "So you better stop acting like a moron and talk to him. Or I'll do it myself".

Geralt stared at him for a few seconds, before silently nodding. "Thank you" he muttered.

Their conversation was interrupted by Jaskier walking into the room. "Geralt, are you oka- Oh, sorry. Didn't know you were in the middle of something".

"It's okay, I was just leaving" Lambert winked at Geralt and started walking away. He stopped next to Jaskier at the doorway. "Geralt wants to talk to you about something".

Jaskier looked at Lambert, a perplexed expression on his face. "What did you-"

"You can thank me later". Lambert grinned at him and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind himself.

Jaskier stared at Geralt, confused. Geralt sighed and sat on the bed. He invited Jaskier to sit beside him.

"Come here. We need to talk".

[x-reader-theater]

My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours {6}

Relationship: Geralt of Rivia X Male!Disabled!Reader

Summary: Every conversation is easier over a game of Gewnt. 

Warnings: Cursing, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Word Count: 1202 words

A/N: Guess what? We’re at chapter 6 and still we have more chapters to go! This story is actually over 13,000 words in length. I want you all to have the ending you deserve, and this is, hopefully, it. If any of you who have seen the show don’t know Gwent, there’s a gwent game that you can buy and play that will hopefully explain everything, but it’s a really fun card game that everyone should check out. Thank you to my editor @mystic-writes​. You are a gem. Thank you so much on your feedback from yesterday. I really appreciate all of you who have re-blogged my work. It means so much. Please like, comment, and reblog, and please send me some asks! It gets lonely in an empty ask box.  Now, without further ado,  My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours chapter 6.

Take a Chance for the Nights are Short (Book 1) [1]

Hold me Tight for the Days are Long (Book 2) [2]

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Chapter 6: Of Cards and Conversations

"You up for a round of Gwent?" You shake your deck at Geralt from the kitchen table. It's been years since you've played with anyone, it'll be nice to try again. If Geralt agrees, of course. 

"What?" He asks from Ciri's bedside. While she hadn't been seriously harmed, Triss had ordered a bout of bed rest. 

You shake your cards again. They rattle around in their case. "Come on. A game. That is assuming you have played before." You quirk your eyebrow up at that. Geralt glares at you. 

"Of course I've played," he grumbles out. "But I don't have a deck." 

You set the deck box on the table, turn around in your chair, and reach up with your hand to grab the large box on one of the shelves in your tiny kitchen. You lightly place it on the table and open it up. Three more decks inside. Nilfgaard, Northern Realms, and Scoia'tael. You prefer the monster deck yourself, but you're good with all of them. You've spent many years cultivating your collection. 

Geralt gets up and walks over, picking up the Northern Realms box and opening it, looking through the cards. "You have some rare cards here. Would fetch a pretty penny." 

"What use for money do I have here?" You ask as you start shuffling your deck. "And besides. It wouldn't be as much fun without the cards. You might be able to beat me then," you say with a smirk. 

Geralt raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Well, we'll have to see about that!" He exclaims, though not too loud. Ciri's still asleep. 

You set up for your game of Gwent, flip a coin, and Geralt goes first. It's interesting to watch him play. All that tactical training by Vessimir must have paid off. 

"You play like Eskel…" You mutter to yourself, placing your hand on your chin. 

You hear Geralt's neck snap up to look at you. "What did you say?" 

You look up at him as you play a card. "I said, you play like Eskel." 

"How- how do you know Eskel?" Geralt asks. 

You lean forward, tilting your cards to your chest as you say, "I'll tell you, if you play a card." He shakes his head at that, shocked, before placing a card down onto the table. "I met him while I was dead. We talked, had a rather adventurous night, one you probably don't need to hear the details of-" Geralt grunts. "-and after running into him a few more times, he brought me to Kaer Morhen. He and Lambert trained me to fight. I may not be as good as a Witcher, but I sure as hell won't be losing another arm to a wyvern." You wave your left arm at him. Or, half of it at least. 

"And you played Gwent with them…" Geralt says. 

You shake your head and play a card, knocking on the table to convey that you pass. "Just with Eskel. Lambert was far too serious." You drop your chin and say in a gravely, mock imitation of Lambert's voice, "'I'm Lambert and I take everything way too seriously. I hate being a Witcher and I kill everything mleh."

Geralt starts laughing as he places a few more cards down, before knocking. "You know, that's a pretty good impression of the man." 

You shrug. "I try my best," you say with a smile. 

Geralt has won the first round, but he had to get rid of most of his cards to do it. You have significantly more cards than him. You take the monster cards on the table and shuffle them up, holding them face down to Geralt. He picks one and it goes back on the table, the rest in the discard. Geralt discards his field and draws a new card. 

"There was one time, when I was traveling with Jaskier," Geralt says, as you place your first card. "I had lost my swords, and Jaskier was determined that a 'Witcher must have swords!'" Geralt plays a card and you watch as his face lights up. You've never seen him look this way, smiling and laughing without care. You feel a pang in your heart as you see this smile. You still love him. You play a card. "So, he went out and bought me a new sword. Zerrikanian Steel. The best you'll find! And at a good price too!'" 

You laugh as he says this. "Is that your Jask impression?" You hate it. 

Geralt chuckles and continues. "Well, when I used it, the first time I blocked a blow, it shattered!" 

You start laughing even harder, and Geralt joins you. Finally, when you catch your breath, you can feel your cheeks are hot and you're looking at Geralt with such joy, all your thoughts of being alone are gone from your mind. 

It's weird talking like this with Geralt again. Laughing and making fun of mutual friends. You haven't talked with Geralt like this in years, and it's like you never left. You've been friends for years, and nothing happened. 

Until Geralt looks at you, sadness in his eyes. "You know, he wrote a song about you." Your smile falters. "After you… died." Even though Geralt's been with you for a few days, and knows you're alive. It's as if he doesn't believe it. "'A ballad for a Silver Jackal.'" 

"I haven't heard it…" You say, though you did get recognized a few times by people in need. Now that you think of it, they may have mentioned a song… 

"It's perfect. Every bit of it," Geralt says, looking down into one of the floorboards like it held the key to one of his deeper, repressed memories. "Beautiful. He wrote it in a day. When we got back to town, he played it." Geralt looks up at you, and for a man who can't feel, he sure does look sad. "I haven't felt emotions in a long, long time. And yet… when I heard that…" Geralt trails off. 

You don't know if he's embarrassed or just glum. Maybe both. 

You clear your throat and point at the board. "Uh. It's your turn," you say simply. 

Geralt nods and plays a card. He places it in the wrong row, and you move it to the right one for him. You play. He plays. You place a card. He does the same. You, him. You, him. 

Your heart's not in the game anymore, but you keep playing it, setting down card after card. Eventually, you both run out of cards. You won. 

It doesn't feel like it. 

"Congrats," Geralt says. 

You don't look up at him as you gather up your cards to put them away. Geralt does the same and silently, you both work in tandem. Geralt puts the card box away and gets up from the table, moving back toward Ciri. 

"Geralt?" You call out to him. 

He stops and looks over his shoulder. "Yes?" 

You stand up. "Did you miss me?" 

He nods. "Yes. I did." He goes and sits back next to Ciri's bedside. 

You slump into your chair, thinking. 

It's going to be a long night.

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Maybe Loving Someone at Kaer Morhen

 @nim-nim-1994​ and @g-l-o-w-y-l-i-g-h-t-s asked for it soooooo

Expanding my Countess Break-Up chat into a mini-fic

It’s your faults 

.....

“I don’t understand women sometimes. I mean, the Countess and I were having a great time. Why did she have to ruin it?”

Though Jaskier was comfortably laying in the grass, Yennefer preferred a couch under a tree. Initially Vesemir wasn’t too keen on a sofa being in the training area, but per usual, Yennefer won the argument. 

He’d never been a huge fan of hers, but they had a sort of bond now, watching over Ciri and the Witchers at Kaer Morhen. They wouldn’t admit it, but it was the closest either of them got to a happy home life. 

Perched on her proverbial queen’s throne, Yennefer rolled her eyes. “I think perhaps you sleeping with her husband ruined it, love.”

“I thought bringing equality and honesty to their marriage would’ve been good for them.” Flicking an insect off his pants, Jaskier wondered why he never got himself a sofa.

Granted, it would be harder to see the sun in the shade. 

When Yennefer didn’t add anything, he continued his complaining. He wasn’t quite done yet, and her silence was not going to stop him now. “What will I even do with myself, without a lover to entertain myself with? Should I find a local noble? A wandering hero? A beautiful tavern flower? The options sound tantalizing, but they are so few and far between up here where no one but jaded Witchers hang their damn hats.”

“You’re joking, right?” 

Of all things, Jaskier did not like her tone. He propped himself up on his elbows and knitted his brows. “I know you don’t care about romance right now, too busy being a mother hen, but it is an absolute staple of my personality, thank you.”

“No, you absolute-” Yennefer sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, like he said something profoundly stupid. He knew the look because she often looked at him this way, but this one seemed especially sour. “You know Geralt’s in love with you, right?”

The laughter that bubbled out of Jaskier wasn’t cute, to say the least. “Geralt? Give a rat’s ass about me? Hardly.”

“You idiot men are so clueless.” 

“I take offense to that.”

“Well then get smarter.” Yennefer leaned into the arm of her sofa and rested her face on her hands. “He’s been mooning after you for years. But he’s a sad, tragic prick who will never say anything. I thought you chose not to notice.”

Jaskier sat up all the way and pressed a hand to his beating heart. “You have to be fucking with me. Of course I’d notice if my Witcher had any feelings for me.” And if he did, how dare you not tell me sooner. 

“You can’t be serious-” After getting this laser-focus look in her eye, Yennefer gasped. “Oh my god, you are. I never bothered to look into your mind because I assumed it was full of drivel, but you sincerely think that blatant fool of a man doesn’t pine after you.” Then she frowned. “Wait, what was that song about my tits in there-”

Jolting up, Jaskier started to walk away as quickly as he could. He didn’t need to die by magical hands just as he got possibly the most important information of his life. 

If Geralt really did feel that way-

Well, be still his damned beating heart, this changed everything. 

So, it was time to test Yennefer’s assertion. 

Jaskier mustered up all his courage and extravagant acting skills for this one, as he walked up the steps to Geralt’s room. He hadn’t gotten to say hello to him yet, since coming back from the Countess. The bard assumed that his stupid Witcher didn’t care. 

Maybe he was wrong this whole time. 

But if he was going to pull this little gambit off, he really had to sell it. Giving himself a few seconds to get the right proper tragic, dramatic face, he didn’t knock on Geralt’s wooden door. No, he just waltzed himself in, slamming it and making as much noise as possible. 

And there he was, sitting on the edge of his bed, his cotton shirt half on, cleaning the blades of his swords. Those yellow eyes looked up at him and, now that the bard was paying attention, there was a flicker of something bright before a deep scowl took over his face. 

“Jaskier-”

The bard wasn’t going to let his expressions push him away, with some growl or bark to try to bite away at the bard’s desire to be by his side. No, this time he had supposed insider information and Jaskier was going to run with it. 

Flopping on Geralt’s bed, pouting up at the Witcher, Jaskier said, “That’s it. I’m never dating another woman again.”

He looked for any movement on Geralt’s face from the corner of his eye; he almost missed the twitch of a smile. “Countess dumped you?”

“Yes, but not the usual one. It seems my type is unavailable women who will never compromise or accept me as I am, not to my face, at least.” Well, that wasn’t quite what happened, but this fit his little game a bit better. 

Ever the bizarre friend, Geralt patted his shoulder like he was a damned horse. “You’re a good bard.”

That wasn’t exactly what Jaskier was looking for, and it made him a little huffy. Maybe Yennefer was talking out of her ass, just trying to make a fool out of him.

“My ego needs no stroking, Geralt, I know I’m wonderful. I just think it’s high time I focus solely on men for awhile.”

As if by magic, those stressless shoulders stiffened. Now, if it was because he had interest or merely was uncomfortable with Jaskier talking about boning men while on his bed, that was the next step. After a beleaguered silence of creepily watching the Witcher’s every face-twitch, the man coughed and said, “Like who?”

Jaskier had to choke on a few breaths to resuscitate his damn heart. Holy hell, Yennefer might’ve been on to something. 

Now was not the time to panic. Sure, he’d been somewhat interested in hearing Geralt say his name among strained groans for years at this point. But he couldn’t get too excited and scare the clam of a man. Otherwise he’d shut the fuck up, and fast. 

He swallowed and tried to act casual, doing his normal egregious hand gestures. “Same type, honestly, just different sexy bits.”

If the bard didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn those stiff shoulders were now melting into the slightest blush peeking from the back of the Witcher’s neck. 

He had to keep going. 

Sitting up slowly, knowing he was positioning himself a little closer to Geralt than he normally would, Jaskier said, “Now just to find myself a good option.”

Geralt mumbled something. 

Jaskier had to keep pushing. “What was that?”

Under his breath, the Witcher said, “Maybe one is closer than you think.”

Oh, so the man was going to play vague with him. That was... something. But he also knew Geralt a little too well, and vague never went anywhere. He had to keep sending him towards the brink of bubbling thoughts before the man would tip over and talk about his damn feelings. 

So, he pulled the meanest card he could.

Smirking, Jaskier countered, “Do you mean Lambert? Because whilst he’s a delinquent, I have to admit, he’s got a decent face--”

“Absolutely not.” The response practically rumbled out of Geralt’s chest like fucking thunder. 

Jaskier wasn’t sure if he should be a little scared or turned on. 

Probably both, if he was going to be honest. 

Before he could say anything about it, Geralt put his sword on the bed and bolted upright. “Never mind, you’re not dating anyone here, ever.” 

And then he walked out of the damn room. 

Funny, considering it was his room in the first place. 

The second Geralt’s door slammed behind him, Jaskier let out an embarrassing snort of laughter. He’d hate telling Yennefer she was right, but this one might actually be worth it. 

Running his hand across the hilt of Geralt’s blade, wondering how long the Witcher had been keeping romantic secrets from him, Jaskier said to himself, “Don’t act so sure about that, Geralt of Rivia.” And then he sputtered out some more unladylike laughter that’d he really have to deal with another day that wasn’t today. “Now the real fun begins.”

Just as he stopped talking, though, the door slammed back open and Geralt had this perturbed frown on his face. “This is my room.”

“Yes, and you just stomped out of it. It was quite adorable.”

The frown on the Witcher’s face deepened. “I was tending my blades. Out.”

“Alright, alright.” Even though he was exiting Geralt’s room for now, he was still going to leave the man with some torment. Jaskier smiled over his shoulder and asked, “But what if tonight, since we haven’t seen each other in awhile, we shared a bed like those poor early days of travel? How nostalgic that’d be, tucked up against you and-”

“Out.” 

Face forward, Jaskier had to hide his overblown smiles to keep the ruse going. “See you later, Geralt.” 

As the door shut behind him, he really couldn’t wait for the next time those yellow eyes met his. After all, he was going to make the stubborn man tell him what he felt, if it was the last thing he did. 

...

(Maybe could do a part 2, dunno, depends on if y’all want it, tell me if you’re interested <3) 

Edit: Part 2 and Part 3

[intricate-oeuvre]

On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part VII

Word count: 3.5k+ a thiccc one

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: heavy angst, fighting.

A/N: I HAVE HEARD YOUR VOICE, DEAR READERS, SO THE JASKIER ANGST CAN START IN NEXT CHAPTER!!!

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

A wolf is a wolf. Even in a cage. Even dressed in silk.

Both of them still were on the ground, fighting each other, when Axelia had landed a gut wrenching kick right between Geralt’s legs. Thus, sending him down on one knee.

“Oh, sweet Lord!” Jaskier winced at that, his own hands flying to cover himself.

“Should I help him?” Ciri asked as she did too wince at the unfair kick from Axelia.

“Who is she, Jaskier?” Yennefer asked before the bard could answer the first question. Yen’s eyes glued to girl’s precise movements.

“I…um… I have sworn to keep my mouth shut.” He glanced at the sorceress. Yennefer didn’t question anything else, for now, and just continued to watch.

That kick at Geralt had given Axelia window of time to recollect herself. Staying few steps in front of him, she leaned down and rested her hands on her knees. She felt angry, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She was angry at everything, more so at the witcher in front of her. She was angry at whole fucking Continent. She was done fighting with grace, ready to get hands on dirty.

“You want to go again?!” she screamed at him, flailing her hands at her sides up.

“What are you trying to prove?” Geralt grunted as he spat out some blood to his side. With a slight wince he stood up, smearing the blood off of his lips onto the back of his hand.

“That I don’t need you!” Axelia continued to scream, as she started to round him helical. The sweat that had gathered on the back of her neck, made her feel cold every time when gust of wind caught on her skin.

“Yet, here you are.” Geralt stated as he regained his fighting stance and started the rounding too.

How could he say such things? Did he not know that she couldn’t do anything about it? That whatever she chose to do, she’ll always end up wherever he is? Has he forgotten that they are soulmates? Had all these years with Yennefer, really made him forget about such things?

Axelia’s eyes turned feral and with animalistic snarl she charged at him once again. This time he had expected her action. They had trained together, after all. With step to the side in very last second, Geralt got out of her way, making her miss him entirely. But with instantaneous turn Geralt reached for her high ponytail that seemed half messy now. And with a yank back and irritated scream that was almost on boarder of painful, she was wrenched back. Her body completely thrown out of balance as her head was yanked too far back, making her land on her back on the ground with a heavy thud. Jolting all breath out of her lungs. More tears gathering in her eyes. She was sure Geralt could break her, and he will if she won’t ask him to stop. He walked closer to her, leaning over.

“Are you done?” He spat with tilt of his head, same irritation on his face as on hers. Axelia bared her bloody teeth at his upside-down form.

“Why did you follow me?!” she seethed, her nails digging in the dirt besides her.

“It works both ways, you know.” Geralt said, resting his elbow on his knee, thus leaning closer down at her. He was breathing heavily while Axelia was still trying to regain her breath which had been knocked out of her just seconds ago.

“That is: why you were drawn here is the explanation why I followed you.” He said, as his eyes glanced at his own hand that Axelia had sunk her teeth into. With painful gulp she continued staring daggers at him. Which reminded her of the knife she kept in her right boots. Planting both of her feet on the ground and bending her legs at knees she seemed done with the fight.

“I assumed that you-” Geralt caught movement with corner of his eyes. Axelia’s hand was slowly creeping along the dirt towards her boot. Geralt moved swiftly and with a stomp, firmly planted his foot on her wrist. The sudden application of force and pressure making her hand crack. Axelia hissed at him, not sure if he had broken her wrist or not.

Geralt sent her a glare and then reached for her boot to pull out the dagger hiding in there. With that ‘are you for real’ look he raised eyebrow at her.

“What? You always told to have some contingency plan.” She rolled her eyes at him. Throwing the dagger to the side, he continued on whatever he wanted to tell her before:

“As I said, before you interrupted me so vulgarly,” he applied a little bit more pressure on her wrist, making his point clear: “I believed that you knew how that soulmate banter went.” He sighed.

“I don’t know two shits about soulmates!” Axelia spat, blood flying out of her mouth as she raised head higher. Geralt narrowed his eyes at her and stepped off of her hand. With huff she cradled her hand to her chest and sat up. Her face smeared with dirt and blood, only two lines seemed clear on her face- where the tears had streamed down her cheeks from frustration. Her hair in similar state with dirt and grass in her white strands. Geralt looked matching, his hair messy with dirt and stems of grass. His face sporting similar look with all the dirt and his bloody nose.

“You’re like a savage beast.” Geralt grunted out as he looked at his bitten hand again, turning it one way and then another.

“Yeah, and you almost broke my wrist.” She grumbled and moved her hand.

“Hm.” Geralt hummed gravely.

“You’re always running. Why?” witcher asked her after brief moment of silence.

“We have spectators.” Axelia said, turning to look over her shoulder, and letting out a small hiss of pain. Her ribs most likely were bruised. For a second Geralt turned to look on their audience, but didn’t heed any more attention than that.

“Axelia.” Geralt stated her name, still waiting for her answer.

“What? What do you want me to say? Why wouldn’t I run from something that I can’t really have? From something that could have been mine, but now it isn’t? The… The… All this, whatever.” She said looking at her dirty hands.

“It’s easier to run away from you, than to be reminded of all the what ifs.” She sighed looking up at him.

“I really am a failed experiment.” She groaned laying back on the ground and staring in the grey clouds, still holding her wrist to her chest.

“Stop that.” Geralt advised. Her eyes briefly flickered to him, questioning burning in her eyes.

“You’re doubting yourself again, stop that.” Geralt explained to her. She just let out half-amused chuckled at that, seeing no true humour in it. Truth be told, Geralt was and still is the only one who ever believed in her, in all the things she did, all the things she pursued. Maybe the only thing he didn’t believe, was her pursuit in soulmates.

“Aren’t you in the position to talk.” Axelia started cynically. “You have love of your life, and she has you… Odd triangle, if you ask me.” She rolled her eyes and finally pulled herself up.

“I must leave, Geralt.” She said turning to him, her eyes momentarily jumping behind him, where one in the distance could see those three on-watchers.

“That’s her. With the dark hair, isn’t it?” she asked, slightly distracted.

“Yes.”

“And that’s… law of surprise child, Ciri…” she trailed off in her observations.

“Yes, and the third is the bard.” Geralt said with slight annoyance in his voice. Axelia’s eyes flickered back to Geralt’s face, her eyebrows furrowing. Without any other words, she turned and started to walk away. Feeling that she should finally give up on her love life. Even if it meant to lie to her own heart every time, she’ll ever stumble upon the witcher. It’s taking toll on her, nor her body, nor her mind and nor her heart could take any more damage.

“To whom are you trying to prove that?” Geralt asked in reminiscence on previous talk, when he didn’t find anything else to say to her to stop her from leaving. Axelia stopped and turned around to look at him.

“Myself.” She said determined about her answer, but it soon that feling disappeared: “I thought that I will prove it today. But then you decided to follow me. And ruin my self-restrain.”

“You have no idea how hard it is to stay away from you, whenever I learn that you are near. It’s like you have this magnetic pull that I can’t resist. My body is ready to go through such dreadful lengths just to bask in your presence. Does that make me clingy or weak? It does, but in that moment, I do not give a single flying fuck. Because that’s how soulmates work, Geralt. You asked me if I know. And I do. I have visited too many mages and sorcerers, just to get rid of all these connections and feelings. Even tried to find a fucking djinn, can you believe?” Axelia started her monologue. Back in Kaer Morhen she always was the one who felt most emotions.

“I want to start o'er so much.” She said quietly to herself, tears of desperation gathering in her eyes. Looking up at the sky, she tried to will them away.

“See? You always have my emotions fucked up.” She smiled at him through tears in her eyes. She was so deep in woods of emotions, and right now, all she wanted was to get into the clear and get rid of everything.

Geralt stood up straighter, about to take a step closer to her. But at the moment she seemed like scared animal, and with shake of her head, she took a step back. Geralt hated to see her cry. She was such of strong woman, such a fierce warrior that could be broken and beaten to the pulp, but she still would stand up and fight, and when she was crying, it meant that she was truly and utterly broken. Not only physically but also mentally.

“Axelia.” Geralt said quietly, cautiously stretching one hand in front of him, showing that he didn’t mean harm.

“Geralt.” Axelia chocked out in same manner. How did she turn from blood spitting fighter into this soft, trembling creature, was beyond Geralt’s apprehension? Did all these years, so far and yet so close to each other, left her in this state of half breaking? This reminded him when they both went through Trials of Dreams where they were going through mutations to improve their vision. He remembered all the screams, grunts and moans of pain as mutations took effect. And when the pain had ended came the clairvoyance. This epiphany type of feeling when one could see in the clearest way, catching every single dust particle in air. He had smelled that velvet rose and sandalwood in the air, signifying that he was still alive. But the utmost silence coming from besides him, where on the other table was supposedly Axelia, made dread settle deep in his gut

“Axelia?” he had questioned her silence as his eyes fell upon her face, the first thing he had the chance to see when he reopened his eyes after all that agonizing pain. And her face had looked like it did now. Full with cruel hurt, tears streaming down her face, as her mouth was half-open in silent scream.

“Geralt?” she had asked, voice trembling, her whole being shaking. The first thing he saw with his new eyes that he had gained through pain, was even more pain. On the face of a girl that was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen; on a person he loves and cares for.

“Geralt? Is everything alright?” Both of them could hear Yennefer’s voice closer. Geralt looked over his shoulder and Axelia looked past him, both of them noticing that all three of them had advanced closer. Yennefer and Ciri quite bravely walking closer, while Jaskier walked behind them – latter knowing better than to interfere.

“I’m dying a little every time I see you with her.” Axelia dried her nose in her sleeve as her eyes turned back to him. But she couldn’t stop them from flicking back to Yennefer and Ciri who still came closer, wanting to know what was going on.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Ciri looked from Geralt to the girl that was in front of them- crying, trembling and holding her injured wrist in her hand close to her heart.

Axelia’s eyes were skipping from one person to another. Too many eyes looking at her, while she was crying and being weak. She was witcher, Geralt never was like that. Her eyes stopped at the sword and dagger that were now in Ciri’s hands. Fuck that, she’ll live without that silver sword for some time. It was very expensive, but she’ll manage. Then her eyes flickered to Yennefer, who was looking at her with confusion. Then to Geralt who’s expression she couldn’t read. Back to Ciri who looked upon the crying girl with sympathy and concern. And in the end her eyes caught on her cloak that Jaskier was holding and her blindfold that was wrapped around his other arm in nonchalant way. It was such contrast, the black fabric with his dark blueish outfit. Axelia’s teary eyes flashed up to meet his. Only apologetic look gracing his features. She-witcher felt so bad and useless at the moment. She awkwardly looked down at the ground and with sob looked up. At no one in particular, somewhere above everybody’s heads. With her tongue running along the front of her teeth, Axelia turned around and went into the forest. Her only escape.

And she run.

And run. The only thing that she knew how to do.

No one followed her, but their eyes collectively turned to Geralt, who was still staring at the forest trees.

“Really, Geralt?” Jaskier questioned, his brows furrowing.

“What did you do?” Ciri asked, her eyes flickering to the woods for a second until returning to Geralt.

“Which time is it? The fourth or something, that you just let her leave like that?” Jaskier continued.

Witcher didn’t answer. And Yennefer didn’t seem happy either.

“I do hope someone will explain all of this.” She said tad annoyed. With slight anger bubbling in her eyes she looked at Jaskier then at Ciri and finally at Geralt. With a grunt witcher turned around and went back to the city, Yennefer hot on his heels and not shutting up about this whole ordeal.

“Dandelion, are you coming?” Ciri asked as she was already walking towards the forest. Jaskier looked at the cloak and tulle fabric in his hands and then looked up at Ciri.

“Are you sure, you can find her?” Jaskier furrowed his brows while catching up with Ciri.

“Geralt thought me, of course I can.” Ciri rolled her eyes playfully and walked along the road that led into the forest.

They had been walking for some time.

“So, who is she?” Ciri asked.

“To me or to Geralt?” Jaskier asked, rearranging his grip on the dark cloak.

“Oh, so she is something to you too?!” Ciri stopped for a second. Geralt once or twice had mentioned something about soulmates and the fact the he had one too. And Ciri today had made a bet with herself that the girl from earlier must have some connections to Geralt, mostly likely this all soulmates thing.

“She is his soulmate, right?” Ciri guessed, glancing down at the sword in her hands.

“Yep.” Jaskier popped the p. Then he explained everything that Geralt had let him know about Axelia, but keeping the details that she herself had told him, to himself.

Meanwhile Axelia was running on the road, hair already fallen out of that messed up ponytail. Her ears catching the sound of stream somewhere on her right. Deep in the woods, off the road. Everything was closing in and she needed to escape. Taking a sharp turn, she dodged into the woods, not following road anymore. She was running, trees scratching her face, her feet stumbling on the fallen tree branches. Her lungs were burning, and her hands started to claw at her corset. With scream of anger she pulled open the string that laced it together at the front. With half-revealed hiss, she threw corset away, her hands latching onto her forearm braces and ridding herself from them too. Unbuttoning first four buttons from the top of her shirt, she leaned against nearby tree. Tears choking her and not letting her take a deep breath of air. She sunk to the ground. Letting out a silent scream as her hands clawed at ground, her nails digging through dead leaves and dirt. She was drowning in her own tears. Breathes just coming out in broken sobs as she tried to pull in new air with choked wheezes. Everything hurt so much, that she couldn’t even stand up anymore. Her mind was worsening her, playing sweet and cherished memories before her blind eyes. She didn’t want to remember anything! She just wanted to be swallowed up by the sound of the stream that was couple feet in front of her.

“No! Stop!” she screamed at herself, her dirty nails now digging in her long hair, and pulling at the tress with such force that her face was pulled up in even more agony. Her thoughts were running circles with unwanted memories. At times, at such quantity that she was ready to run in a tree head first, and just bash her head against it until she won’t feel a thing anymore. She broke, bruised and completely alone.

***

“Why aren’t we staying on the road?” Jaskier asked, as he and Ciri were now in middle of woods and not on a trusty path anymore.

“Because she went this way.” Ciri noted as she looked at all the freshly broken branches and footprints left from Axelia’s stumbles.

“Is this hers?” Ciri asked picking up Axelia’s corset.

“And those are her vambraces...?” Jaskier nodded towards the dark forearm braces that were thrown on the ground further ahead. One further than the other. Beckoning towards Axelia’s whereabouts.

“She mostly likely is at the river.” Ciri concluded.

“Let’s hope she’s not trying to drown herself.” Jaskier mumbled walking onward.

Axelia heard them before anything else. Silent whispers flowing in the wind. And part of her told her to get up and run. But all she could manage to do was sit up against the big tree.

“Oh, please, no…” She mumbled as her tears now were silent. Occasional sob escaping her. She clumped her mouth shut, to shut herself up. Her legs were drawn to her torso, and her chin tilted down towards her chest. With fear she was waiting for the scent to finally reach her. And when she felt it, more panic settled in. At first, she felt rich fragrance, something akin to wild berries, very refined. But her panic subsided a little, when a familiar scent hit her senses. Her head immediately snapped up, her eyes welling up even more. It was familiar, but not familiar in a way that could make her run away again. It was scent that reminded her of the times when she needed someone to resort in, someone she could rely on and talk freely to. Not hiding her emotions, not keeping up the perfect witcher image. She had needed trusty ears, who would listen and not judge her. Someone who could give her false shelter from outside world and her own emotions. Even if it was for a little moment.

Then she heard the sound of two pairs of feet stepping through the dry leaves. The sound of crunching making her feel like scared animal, who is waiting for the predator to finally strike. The gentle breeze of wind, made the two scents more prominent. The second scent making her risk all of it and glance around the big tree trunk. She carefully putted her hand on the ground and with one eye she peered behind the tree. Her eyes scanned over the trees, firstly catching on the white-haired girl, that was saying something, her eyes glued on the ground in front of her feet. Then her eyes zeroed onto the second person.

Jaskier was the first of two who noticed Axelia hiding behind a tree. With small gasp he slowed his steps. Trying to show to the hurt girl, that he meant no harm. At that Ciri noticed her too, and stopped all together, not wanting to make the girl feel threatened.

“Axelia?” Jaskier questioned her, still slowly approaching her. Axelia’s eyes locked with his at the call of her name.

“Jaskier…” Axelia choked as she quickly pushed herself up. Pushing off of a tree she run to him, crushing in his chest as tears stared falling down her cheeks again, staining his shirt. Praying that she could just wish all this away.

“I’m here.” He mumbled in her hair, his eyes briefly flicking to Ciri, who only held all the sympathy for the girl in Jaskier’s arms.

~~~~

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

tags:

@boiled-onionrings​ @fandomwithnolifesblog​ @901seconds​ @kingniazx​ @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong​ @stitchattacks​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @stormfire6​ @mr-illegal-king​ @stretchkingblog97​ @mikariell95​ @geralt-of-motherfucking-rivia​ @martian-m​ @republicansithlord​ @notso-fetch​ @lizliz3107​ @godlydolans​ @arsaky-lou​ @eternallyvenus​ @le-reina-asesina @alwayshave-faith​ @writingmi​ @staringmoony​ @kenai731 @holychic​ @dramaticturnaway​ @ihopeyousteponarosepetal​ @seouldesire​ @runs-with-sciss0rs @yes-captainstark​​ @fandomhell97​​ @newtdisneywho​​

[gayregis]

oh dandelion is such a weird case tbh. like all the sleazy shit he does is entirely unnecessary imo but people have latched onto the womanizing and all as such a huge important part of is character that no one seems to really question it? and in part due to mistranslations its treated by fans as a whole as way less harmful than it is? idk but honestly its part of why i just think hes gay now bc his canon sexuality is a mess nd basically every non-platonic interaction he has with a woman is gross

(this is part 2 ig? sorry shdjs) for example idk how it looks in the translations but in the original like. one of the very first things dandelion talks about is how he groped one of nenneke's students, and the bit with the brothel in eternal flame is. really awful when you look at it esp with the (horribly constructed but still) race dynamics in-universe, when he talks about "being able to afford a half-elf or maybe even a full-blooded elf" like idk its just. Bad and i think ppl gloss over it

(okay i started writing this part of the response before i got part 2): yes, it seems to me like a lot of him is based on this trope of the slovenly womanizer bastard-sort, but sapkowski does nothing to invert that part of the trope, lol. he disproved being a coward, because he was brave to follow geralt into brokilon/stand up for geralt’s life in dol blathanna/etc. he disproved being an idiot, because he makes intelligent observations sometimes. he disproves being selfish, because he is very caring for geralt and others. but he does nothing to disprove womanizing/misogyny, perhaps except for how he treats essi as his little sister, and for how he is appropriate with shani and also good to ciri. also i suppose in something ends, something begins he has female friends who he does not act disgusting to.

(this is considering part 2 as well): YES. there are so many little stupid fucking moments that drive me insane. such as that one, i already mentioned the rape joke to yennefer in limits of the possible/bounds of reason, the comment he made about she-elves in eternal flame was disgusting, all of his stupidity when he first met milva (commenting on her body, and also making a comment about how zerikkanian women cut off one of their breasts to shoot better, even though this is refuted by milva). how he says in lady of the lake that women don’t need money, since they don’t drink or gamble (in the presence of milva, who has drunken in his presence, and angouleme, for whom gambling is part of her backstory). also commenting on how he finds philippa scary and that he categorizes women into “fuckable” and “nonfuckable” basically. i think his comments towards yennefer in a little sacrifice are maybe the least horrible (just saying that she is old and isn’t a ‘normal woman’ because she is artifically young due to being a sorceress) but is still annoying.

i feel like the concept of brothel-going in general is supposedly “of the setting/time” and is normalized in their society but is taboo and mildly alarming to at least some in a modern audience,

i think it is also partially due to sapkowski normalizing the brothel-culture in-universe, and also (on the translators ends, too?) to be keen i guess to use terms like “whore”, like i think he calls toruviel in edge of the world something like “stupid whore,” which, if it came out of a man’s mouth today, hopefully he would be strangled.

the thing that is annoying is that he is a “good character,” he is literally the best friend of the main character, and is meant to represent that best-friend role. so his actions and sayings aren’t intended to villify him, but to be amusing, so it is assumed that the audience would find all of this amusing, which it’s not.

i think he can have this part of his personality (not misogyny, lol, but the “womanizing” as it relates to “being a dumbass”) without being so horrible, for example when vespula kicks him out of the house in eternal flame, i find this funny because he is obviously in the wrong, and he is experiencing punishment for it. additionally, things like repeating urban legends that zerrikanian women cut off their right breast in order to shoot better, to which milva ridicules him. or when he in his ballad sung that yennefer had a heart like a diamond that was unfeeling, and yennefer addresses this with him, and he shuts up and tries to steer the conversation elsewhere because it is obvious that he is terrified of her wrath...  it demonstrates that he is foolish and stupid, and is in the wrong, and can be made fun of. he did or said something (largely inconsequential, not violent or horrific) which was stupid, and is being ridiculed for it both in- and -out- of universe.

when he is in a position of power over the women however, saying derogatory things that men reading might agree with, that aren’t ever contested in-universe, then we have a problem. saying things like referring to women as whores, or trying to get a ‘full blooded she-elf’ at a brothel, or saying that he divides women into the fuckable and non-fuckable: these are never contested, he is never shamed for them, no one ever recieve retribution for them, and additionally, they are of a more violent and disgusting nature.

i feel like i treat geralt, yennefer, and dandelion all the same way overall. they each do and say some pretty messed-up things (geralt has sex with two barely 18-year old girls, yennefer smugly threatens to basically sexually assault geralt and was intending to mind-control a man into sex at belletyn (magic equivalent of a roofie; rape; what triss did to geralt), and dandelion espouses all of the misogynistic bullshit above). i like their characters but i simply cut this stuff out when i think about them because it adds nothing to them, only discomfort and disgust. it’s not intended to show “grey morality,” rather personal fallibility, and they are already fallible outside of such grossness. whether this affects if i headcanon dandelion as gay or bi i don’t know; i feel like it would be nice to rewrite some of his relationships with women to be more equal and less shitty (like how anna henrietta had an abusive husband beforehand and dandelion is not a violent man so ig it is nice to think she had some emotional love life with him around), but i also totally understand your perspective of just “there’s a lot to unpack here, but let’s just throw away the whole suitcase” haha. either way i think his [romantic] relationships with women are not very interesting at all, and i would rather focus on his platonic friendships with women, like milva, and/or mentorship/siblingship with essi. 

[so--many-fandoms]

Jaskier is technically a noble, right? So he probably had to go through all the fancy noble tutoring and such, not just for math and literacy and normal school stuff but for etiquette and politics and all the noble-specific training that anyone who might end up ruling at least some portion of land would need.

After Cintra falls, Ciri is the last remaining heir to the throne (unless you start looking into distant cousins and other branches that may or may not exist or have any claim to the throne); either way, assuming they manage to drive nilfgard out someday, she’ll be the next ruler. Do you see where I’m going with this?

At some point, probably a few months after they found eachother, Ciri is going to make some comment about how having her former life destroyed sucks but at least she’s escaped her boring old lineage tutor or something, and Geralt is going to realize that not only is he in charge of raising and protecting a tiny human child, he’s in charge of a royal tiny human child who will one day be the Queen of an entire country. Then he’s going to panic because she definitely needs to be learning things for that but they don’t teach Witchers how to be nobles, he has no idea what she needs to learn, this isn’t like sword fighting, he can’t teach her himself! And so his first thought will probably be Yennefer, because she was a court mage and he had probably already asked her to help teach Ciri magic/control. When he asks, though, she says she can’t help him because while sure, they received some court training at Aretuza, it was all manipulation and making people like you enough to avoid getting killed or fired for accidentally offending some random important noble (its a different story if you did so on purpose, of course). Anyway, she had never learned any of the things nobles had to know, and especially not the kinds of things they taught noble children. She was 0% qualified to be a royal tutor for anything beyond magic, and probably reading/languages (particularly Elder) and maybe math, because some spells definitely involve math to get the correct affect.

So Geralt is still panicking, and now he’s thinking he’s going to somehow have to find some noble that he can trust to know where Ciri is, and worse, what kind of noble would be willing to travel around the continent with a Witcher? So he is thinking that he’s probably going to have to leave Ciri with this random noble for months at a time, because she needs an education and to be prepared to rule but how the fuck is he going to find some noble who’s both willing to look after a Witcher’s kid (who might be the crown princess of a powerful kingdom but is also being hunted by a powerful invading army with a dark mage, any political advantage from fostering her would be negated by the huge target doing so would paint on your back) and trustworthy enough that Geralt could let her out of his sight with them? Now, there are two ways this could go.

1) yennefer Knows Things and decided to take pity on Geralt after he’s so clearly (well, clear to people that know him well(or can read minds)) freaking out over the issue, and casually mentions “isn’t that bard of yours a Viscount or something? Maybe he can help.” Skip Geralt’s what kind of viscount is named Jaskier?? confusion (yen: you didn’t know that’s not his real name?), he immediately goes to track Jaskier down, because even if they haven’t seen eachother since the dragon mountain, and Jaskier might never want to see him again no matter how much he apologizes, he knows Jaskier would never turn on Ciri. He finds him rather quickly because a lot of people are gossiping about the “Toss a Coin” bard who has recently debuted a fantastic new tragic love ballad (Geralt is definitely having Feelings the first time he hears it. Maybe it’s just coincidence that the story of Her Sweet Kiss sounds so familiar? It has to be, right? Right??? Because if not... well. There’s a third person in that song, and Geralt doesn’t think he could possibly have been that blind- but then again, he’d never known his friend was a noble or his name wasn’t actually Jaskier, had he?). Cue lots of reunitement feels and apologies and hugs (and Ciri shipping them from the background). Geralt is so relieved that Jaskier is safe and forgave him that he forgets why he had been looking for him so urgently until Jaskier asks something about where he was going/why he was in town or something like that. Geralt says something about how he’s currently raising a Princess, and he can teach her fighting and survival but he didn’t even know she was supposed to be studying things like a century’s worth of noble family trees and how to tell someone to fuck off with silverware until she mentioned how much more exciting monster-identification-lessons were, and apparently Jaskier is actually a noble? Named Julian??? And Jaskier, being fluent in Geralt, correctly interprets this as “what. Geralt. You want me to be Cirilla’s tutor? The future queen of Cintra? I’m not as young as I look, it’s been decades since I had to think about any of that bullshit, oh, fu-sorry, sorry, small ears, gods. I may be a professor at Oxford for a winter every now and then, but I am NOT a royal tutor! Besides the fact that royals learn things lower nobles don’t, I’m from Rhedania, not Cintra, we use an entirely different fashion language, and they have a weird thing about-” “Jaskier. Where the fuck am I going to find a trustworthy Cintran noble, let alone one qualified to teach her?” “Language! and they- oh. Good point. I suppose I know more about it than you do, at the least. Ugh. If I’m going to have to try to remember all this sh-stuff, I definitely am going to need some books. Cintra’s library would be best, country specific info and all, but there’s no way we’re going to get any of that, if it hasn’t burned already. Maybe Oxenfurt? If we-” “make a list. Yen has... resources.” “Well that’s terrifyingly ominous. And I hope you’re planning on letting me teach her music too, if we’re going to have to put up with all this stuffy etiquette!”

2) Yennefer doesn’t say anything, either because she figures Geralt must already know and have chosen not to go to Jaskier for some reason or because she never bothered to pay enough attention to Jaskier to find out herself. Geralt leaves to continue on his way to Kaer Morhen or just Away, because they’re still too close to Nilfgard’s front line for his comfort, and assumes that he’s just going to have to wait for the war to end to find a trustworthy noble who can teach her. On the way, they hear that Jaskier is just a couple of towns out of their way and decide to go find him because Geralt has been wanting to apologize for being a dick for months but he’d been too focused on Ciri’s safety to track him down (or maybe they just walk into a tavern and he’s there, preforming, and it’s awkward and angsty and leaves Ciri wishing she could lend them a brain cell or two because clearly they have none). Geralt apologizes, angst is had, feelings are aired. In the end, Jaskier decides to follow them because he’s missed Geralt and also he’s kind of famous for being the White Wolf’s Bard, and if Nilfgard is looking for Geralt a squishy (mostly?)human bard is a much easier target than a Witcher, and so he should also probably be heading away from the war and who is he to deny the extra protection of traveling together? Anyway, after they’ve been reunited for a few days or weeks, Jaskier gets fed up because he knows Geralt has been angsting over something, and at first he thought it was related to the whole reunion drama but it’s been long enough and it clearly has not gotten better. So he waits until Ciri is asleep and ambushes Geralt with concerned questions because sometimes the element of surprise was the only way to get him to spill things regarding feelings. Geralt knows he won’t give up, so he tells him about how he’s worried because he can do his best to protect Ciri physically, but he never thought himself qualified to raise a child, let alone a princess who will inherit a kingdom, and he knows there are a lot of things she should be learning to be ready for her future responsibilities but he had never had anything even resembling a noble education, and Yennefer may have been a court mage but she didn’t either, and unless Jaskier had some secret noble lover who would be willing to travel with them and live in a castle full of Witchers for however long the war lasted, he wasn’t going to be able to give her the education she needed until at least after the war, and she’d probably be expected to take the throne at that point so clearly that would be an issue, because while on the job training is great the fate of the kingdom would be in the balance, and- (okay, a lot of that was probably Jaskier reading between the lines. Geralt would never have spoken that much, but he was definitely thinking all of it, and Jaskier had gotten quite good at reading his Witcher over the years, thank you very much). “Geralt. You do know I’m technically a Viscount, right?” *confused silence* “Sure, I might not know every detail about Cintra’s trade history or some of the more royal-specific stuff, and it’s been a while since I had my own lessons, but if I had to sit through 16 years of unbearable Nobility Education, I may as well do something useful with it. I might not be at all qualified under normal circumstances, but I’m definitely better than nothing, right? And I can easily make learning it much more interesting than some stuffy old tutor or governess. Do you know how much easier it is to memorize dates and names when set to music?” “What the fuck.” “Oh, and literature! Rhetoric! Grammar! Not necessarily vital to ruling, you have scribes for a reason, but really words are one of the few things I actually am officially qualified to teach. No reason I shouldn’t go the whole way if I’m already doing this, and a good education is an important tool for anyone.”

[the-bard-followed-the-witcher]

FMK with the Witcher characters

So two ways that I’m understanding the question;

First: you are asking me, who i would FMK

Second: you want me to describe what it would look like if the characters were to play FMK together

For the sake of my own mental state, I’ll just answer both :)

First: I’d definitely Marry Jaskier (and adopt ciri my little angel) likely fuck Geralt or Yennefer (depends on who scares me less) and kill -because you didn’t limit that one- the shapeshifter guy whose name i forgot that deceived ciri

Second: (yes this became way too long)

Jaskier, Yennefer and Geralt were sitting on the fluffy blue carpet of Jaskiers room. The birthday party had died down about an hour ago and now that they were done with the clean up it was safe to assume that they, especially Jaskier, were bored out of their mind. And well because Jaskier was Jaskier he suggested playing a game before going to sleep: Fuck, marry, kill. Geralt hated the game. Yennefer even more so. But

It was Hard for either of them to say no to Jaskier, even more so when it was his birthday.

So they ended up here, sitting in a circle on Jaskiers floor, playing the worst game ever.

It was only after three full rounds that stuff really got interesting.

Yennefer was the one who finally had enough of the desperate gazes Geralt threw towards Jaskier whenever the overdramatic idiot moaned as he chose who to fuck. And not just that she hated the longing looks Jaskier threw at Geralt all the time. It was exhausting.

„So Jaskier...“ she started with a purr in her voice that suggested just how devilish her question would be. She had no mercy for her best friend of years. “FMK with the three that are sitting in this room.” The small grin displayed on her lips made Jaskier glance to Geralt for a second and blush. Why did yennefer always know how to make him embarrassed? She knew he liked Geralt damnit.

Despite his blush Jaskier kept his cool. He didn’t want to give Yennefer the satisfaction of making him embarrassed but he also desperately wanted Geralt to finally know, to finally get the hints he has been dropping for years.

“Oh Yennefer, eternal suffering of my life, how i adore your questions.” Yennefer just grimaced before grinning provokingly. God they truly had known each other for too long.

Sometimes Geralt felt a bit left out.

Especially when they did stuff like this. Stare into each others eyes as if they were holding a whole conversation only the two of them understood. Geralt never had that with yennefer. And with Jaskier, well he wished he could have something more than that. Something more intimate. Something he had not wanted with anyone but Jaskier for a very very long time. He gazed at Jaskier, neutral he thought, but really the hunger and longing was all over his face,

and Yennefer saw that. She saw how Geralts gaze went over Jaskiers body too as it had done a million times, and she grinned brighter. God the guy was almost drooling with Jaskier only in skinny jeans and a black top that was cut out enough, that one could almost see Jaskiers nipples. Yennefer couldn’t imagine what Geralt would do if they were to go swimming together.

Two options: either Geralt would just straight up black out, or: he would totally lose control. Yennefer would have enjoyed seeing either of these options. But sadly they were trapped here in a room, with Geralt obviously drooling over Jaskier and Jaskier, the oblivious idiot, not even realizing what was happening. The only thing that idiot was thinking about was how to answer her question without fully running into her trap. Well unfortunately for him, Yennefer knew exactly how to get her way.

“Jaskier, my sweet adorable devilish friend, how come you are taking so long to answer this one?” She bated her eyelashes and all Jaskier wanted to do was strangle her. Geralt was glaring at her too. Not because he understood the teasing, no, he was glaring because he dreaded the answer. He in a way didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to hear that Jaskier would kill him. That Jaskier would surely fuck Yennefer.

He knew it but he didn’t want to hear it. He knew it would only hurt.

With Jaskier it often did. With every flirt that was dedicated to someone else, it hurt. He wasn’t sure for how long he could take this, but if it meant staying by Jaskiers side, he’d do his best to endure for as long as he could.

Finally Jaskier was the one who grinned. Satisfied. “Ever so impatient Yennefer, it will fill you with relief to know that I’ve found my answer! Drumroll please!” Of course his overdramatic ass would ask for that. Yennefer just rolled her eyes and did the thing. She had to. If she wanted this to move along, she had to.

“Thank you Yennefer! Now, lets come to my answers.” He leaned forward and placed his head on his closed fists as his elbows rested on the floor. His cut low too hung low enough that one could almost see his whole chest and part of his stomach if one sat somewhere in front of him. Of course Geralt did exactly that. Yennefer watched as his gaze moved downwards for just a second, as he licked his lips, a bewildernment in his eyes that she had only ever seen him wear when Jaskier was being flirty.

“Soooooo, to take everybody’s mind of the most important part of this: i will not marry myself.” Jaskier grinned as both Yennefer and Geralt rolled their eyes. God he loved annoying them. “Okay okay jokes aside! Let’s make do the killing first. I choose...”He looked first to one then to the other of his companions. It was very dramatic. Very Jaskier.

“I choose myself.”

Both Yennefers and Geralts eyes widened in surprise. Both had expected themself. Jaskier simply grinned.

“Come on you guys! You didn’t seriously expect me to be able to kill either of you.” He put on a fake scowl. The typical jaskier, dramatic to a fault.

“Well...uhm, no? I mean... i dont...” Geralt had never been good with words and surpises were definitely not his thing. His mind was already with the other two options. Yennefer was the one to safe him. She was seriously concerned for Jaskier willingness to give up his life. This was not the first time.

“Jaskier, are you alright?”

Jaskier just kept grinning his blinding grin.

“of Course! Moving on!“ yennefer decided to let it go for now. There was plenty of time to fogure this one out.

„These two are way harder to choose, and although I’d love to devote myself to you completely for a night, i do not think i could survive that. Therefore, yennefer, I’ll marry you, but expect the divorce papers soon.” He let a wink follow expecting Yennefers confidence to falter. It didn’t. In fact her grin seemed to turn even more devilish.

Her voice was dripping with honey. Venomous honey. “Oh I’d gladly sign those divorce papers, after all, i know there is someone here in this room you’d much rather spend every night of your life with.” She almost giggled when both Geralt and Jaskier blushed furiously and looked anywhere but each other. God, how she enjoyed watching them squirm.

“Now Jaskier why don’t you tell us who it is again, that you’d gladly fuck?” More honey laced with venom. Even a kiss blown in Jaskiers direction.

He could barely keep himself seated as he felt Geralts eyes burn into the side of his skull. Why had he chosen this way again? He should have just killed yennefer and promised a friendship marriage to Geralt and that would have been it but no! No he had to finally admit to his attraction to Geralt. Damn it!

Geralt on the other hand felt like his insides were burning up. He had followed the game, he knew the answer to Yennefers question, he knew it damn well, and the fact that he was about to hear it from Jaskier, falling from those gorgous pink lips, made him squirm in his seat. He wasn’t even sorry for the intense glare he kept steadily on Jaskier.

However when Jaskier did finally say something, it was barely a murmur, not something anyone could have ever understood. Words purposefully lost. They all knew what he had said, and Geralt was ready to let it go, he didn’t want to embarrass Jaskier further, even if it meant never hearing the words, but Yennefer, she was different.

“What did you say, dear? We couldn’t quite understand that.” Gods that women!

She really knew how to mess with ones head and well Jaskiers was her favourite to mess with. She knew exactly how to pull his strings. For example: right now she was one sentence away from getting Jaskier to confess. Jaskier who was blushing madly and trying his very best to hide his face in his palms. Unsuccessfully. Still no answer. Yennefer grinned to herself.

“What is it, Jaskier, dear? Cat got your tongue?” It was the tone, the tone was all that was important, all that now finally let Jaskiers mind topple over and go into panic mode. Oh how she loved making her best friend finally confess.

And topple over, Jaskier did. Or really, he didn’t topple it seemed more like he took the furthest leap he ever had and then lost all control.

“I’d fuck Geralt, okay?! Damn it! I’d let him fuck me senseless right here right now. And then I’d probably beg him for more; I’d fuck Geralt. Gladly!”

Yennefer grinned. Jaskier didn’t even realize what he just said. The realization only hit him with each and every passing second after his outbreak. Geralt...

Geralt was a mess. His mind was running wild, trying so very very hard to process the words, words he had only ever dreamt to hear. And not just that Jaskier had practically invited him to do it here and now! He felt, heard his blood rush through his whole body, his lips dried up, his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. He licked his lips. He was not sure he could stay in this room for much longer if his blood kept rushing downwards like this. He gulped.

Jaskiers eyes widened in shock as his words slowly settled in. Why was his stupid mouth always faster than his idiotic head?!? If the floor was to open right now and swallow him whole, he’d appreciate that very much. He didn’t feel Geralts gaze on himself anymore and if the other was grossed out by him, he’d totally understand, but he was curious, oh so curious. He let his eyes wander over to Geralt for just a milisecond before looking away again. Geralt was just staring at his lap and honestly Jaskier didn’t know what to do. So he did what he did best. He talked.

“You satified now, Yennefer?” He buried his face in his palms again. He really needed to get out of this room. Now.

Yennefer took a moment to peel her eyes off Geralt who was still not saying a word. But she knew how to read people. She knew what was going on in his mind.

“Yes i am, very much so in fact.” And in one smooth motion she was up on her feet and right by the door.

Jaskier felt the panic well up in him again.

“Where are you going?”

“Just getting myself a glass of water.” But the look she threw in his direction told him that she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. She had planned all of this, that damned witch!

But he couldn’t stay in here! Not after what he said. Not with Geralt, the Geralt he had just invited to fuck him, right there with him, not saying a god damn word. He was fucked. He couldn’t stay here. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Geralt was to say something but then again the silence was already killing him.

“Yennefer, wait-“ but she was already out of the door. Geralt and Jaskier were left with nothing but each others company and the elefant in the room.

For what felt like eternity it was just silence, awkward silence. Neither of them dared to break it. Neither of them knew how. It was hell.

Not even the usually so chatty Jaskier knew how. He had embarrassed himself in the highest form. Geralt must hate him, must be so ashamed. He should have never made them play this stupid game. He should have known it would end badly. And now,

now he had fucked up his one chance with Geralt. He truly was a fool. Why couldn’t god just finally strike him and end his misery?

Suprisingly enough it was Geralt who finally had the courage to say something.

„Jask?“ there was something weird in his tone, something that made Jaskier squirm in his seat even more. He had never heard it before. He couldn’t place it. But there was no hiding now. Geralt had broken their silence, he at least needed to acknowledge that.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly one last time still hoping that somehow he could disappear or turn back time, but of course neither of those things happened and when he opened his eyes again he looked over to Geralt, Geralt who was still looking at his lap as if deep in thought. Gourgous, beautiful Geralt. He couldn’t believe he’d lose Geralt now.

„Yes, Geralt?“

Neither of them knew what to expect when Geralt looked up and their gazes met. Gold met blue. And while blue was plainly desperate, embarrassed with only a hint of hope, gold was laced over with nervousness, and underneath something that Jaskier couldn’t quite place, something that made his skin tingle. He almost looked away.

And then Geralt said:

„Can i...“ he gulped, „... can i kiss you?“ and Jaskier wasn’t quite sure he was really breathing after. Because Geralt had just said that and he wasn’t sure he could trust his ears. And his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, beating so loud even Yennefer downstairs could hear.

And when he breathed out a „yes“ he wasn’t even sure he had really said it. Because his heart was so loud, and his blood was rushing through his ears, and he was sure, sure when he saw Geralts gaze go wild that this was a dream, that he had misheard.

But it merely took a milisecond until Geralt was across the room to where Jaskier still sat, and pressing his lips furiously to the others. Bruising, desperate, helpless. Years of longing and lusting poured into one kiss.

And Jaskier moaned with it when Geralt pulled him in his lap and pushed his tongue between his pink lips that he had desired for an eternity. Their skin was tingly all over, on fire where the other touched. All their minds could focus on was lips pressing to lips.

And it was sloppy and there was too much saliva but Jaskiers hands were tangled in Geralts long locks that he had pulled up so prettily for his birthday, and Geralt growled, growled almost inhumanly and grabbed Jaskier waist tighter and fuck Jaskier was definitely too far gone now.

And Geralt tried so very hard to keep his last ounce of self control, but Jaskier was pushing his hips forward up against his groin and he had dreamed of this for too long, far too long and when Jaskier moaned again the realization hit him that he was kissing Jaskier, who he had wanted to make his since the day they met, and Jaskier was moaning, moaning because of Geralt, and he had been doomed from the very start.

He didn’t keep his control for long

and soon all they were was a kissing, moaning mess of limbs on the floor, Geralt on top of Jaskier, Jaskier pushing upwards with his hips,

It was pure bliss.

Yennefer was glad Jaskiers parents had chosen a comfortable couch for the downstairs living room. That definitely made it significantly easier for her to fall asleep. A satified grin rested on her face that night. She was sure her two friends up stairs were having an even better time.

Sometimes Yennefers manipulation lead to good things after all.

(Not my best work but hey it’s good for being so improvised XD)

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 10 - The Contrast of Compassion and Contempt

This was a surprisingly easy chapter to write, given that I had absolutely no idea what was supposed to happen until I wrote it. Here's to hoping it won't mess up the timeline. 

Thanks as always to @persony-pepper for betaing!

Summary: Geralt is back at Lettenhove Hall and Jaskier is coping. Or at least trying to, as both Geralt and Ciri do their best to shatter the fragile balance on a razor blade that defines their relationship. 

Read on AO3

Prologue | previous | next

The alderman of Saltwall was a fool and a bloody coward, too. Jaskier was very pleased to discover that - so pleased, in fact that he greeted Geralt with a smile on his face when the witcher trudged into his study.

"'To The Right Honourable The Viscount Lettenhove, Julian Alfred Pankratz'," he recited as he leaned against his desk, crossing his ankles, "'I offer to you my sincerest apologies for the recent misunderstanding. It is my deepest regret to relay to you that the honoured Master Geralt of Rivia' — do you hear that, Geralt, I quite like the sound of it — 'indicated in no way that he was affiliated with you' — oh, fun, that's some fodder for the rumour mill." He cleared his throat and read on: "'I assure you, it was not my intention to slight you or yours. In hopes of amending this misstep, I send to you and your witcher this recompensation consisting of three hundred crowns.' Melitele's tits, Geralt, what on earth was the agreed sum?" Jaskier tossed him the coin purse.

"Hundred and fifty," he replied and weighed the purse in his hand. "I assume you want half of it?"

He dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Keep it. This is much better, listen to this: 'I trust that no bad blood remains between us, as you are one of my most esteemed neighbours.' That's the best he could come up with? Ridiculous. But wait, here comes the best part: 'Also, I extend the humble invitation to you and your household to come and dine with my wife and me in Saltwall.'" He lowered the parchment and grinned widely. "What do you think, Geralt? Should we accept? I'd love to see his face when I show up with the sixty-odd members of my household."

Geralt huffed what could almost be a laugh. "Fuck, J- my lord. What did you write in your first letter to get that kind of response?"

"Oh, that was easy," he said almost bored. "I politely informed him that you were there on my orders, and that I am greatly displeased with the lack of financial compensation for your hard work. I also reminded him that his liege and I had studied in Oxenfurt together, and that I am soon due to visit my old friend, who would surely be interested in his activities. Oh, and I might have implied that I slept with his unmarried sister."

Now he was certain that Geralt was laughing. "Poor man. He had no idea what he'd gotten himself into."

"What can I say? I am a master of my craft." He bowed with a flourish.

When he straightened his back again, Geralt was rolling his eyes fondly. "You're incorrigible."

"Maybe so," he allowed the teasing. "It gets me what I want, though." 

"Hmm," Geralt made and crossed his arms. "And what's that?"

An icy hand gripped his heart. 'I told you,' his mind screamed. 'I asked you to come with me. And you walked away.' But that had been a lifetime ago. "Well, that depends." Jaskier forced his expression to go blank. "Primarily, though, none of your business."

"Right. I'm sorry, my lord." He could tell Geralt was mocking him.

Still, he answered: "You are forgiven, my witcher."

They were silent for a bit, Jaskier unwilling to budge first. To his everlasting joy, Geralt caved. He talked a lot since their reunion - comparably at least. Jaskier enjoyed this development immensely. "Are you going to accept the invitation?"

"I'm thinking about it. It would be rather satisfying to have that bastard bowing and scraping to you, wouldn't it? That would teach him."

"Hmm," Geralt made. "Or he'd be twice the arse to the next witcher to get back at you."

Jaskier frowned deeply. "No, you're completely right. That would be awful, we won't do that." His fingers danced to a rapid rhythm on the desk while thoughts chased each other through his mind. Then, thankfully, one of them slowed down enough for him to grasp it. "Oh, that's better still!" He wheeled around, pulling parchment and a quill from his desk, and started penning the response.

He'd written one and a half pages already when he was startled from the daze he was in: "What are you writing?" Geralt asked and peered over his shoulder. Jaskier very nearly dropped his quill. The witcher was close enough that he could feel his breath against the back of his neck and the heat radiating from his body. A shiver ran down his spine, and Jaskier wasn't quite sure if it was pleasant or not. Geralt reached out and moved the page he was writing on, to better examine the one beneath it. He didn't retract his arm just yet, though, but put his hand next to Jaskier's hip, leaning on the desk, and thus greatly restricting his movement.

Once he would have rejoiced for any chance to get this close to the witcher when he wasn't gravely injured or dying. Now, it made his skin crawl. Jaskier scarcely dared to move, but turned his head to see Geralt frown. "What?" Jaskier asked, amused.

"Is it some kind of joke? I don't get it."

He snorted a laugh. "Yes, witcher, it is. You should ask your daughter about it, she'd understand it." The frown on his face deepened beyond what seemed humanly possible and Jaskier quickly kept on talking: "It's an insult, you see? 'As pleased as I am to get invited to the famed court of Saltwall, it would greatly trouble me to infringe upon your winter stores. Though, I do have plans to visit my brother-in-law in Goldfurt this winter and should be overcome with joy to meet you there to renew our fleeting acquaintance.' It's-" He waved his hand impatiently. "It's a reminder that visiting Saltwall is beneath me and that I have better options. It's also a remark on the fact that he wanted to scam you claiming he didn't have enough. And a whole lot of other things. Would take some time to pick all of that apart."

"Hmm. Not looking forward to seeing him in Goldfurt, though."

"What makes you think you'll be in Goldfurt?" he teased him and snickered when his face fell. "Don't worry, witcher, it's another taunt. The Baron of Goldfurt would never invite someone as insignificant as the alderman of Saltwall. No danger of us running into him there."

A smile tugged at his lip. "Clever."

"Compliments will get you nowhere," he scolded, a bit more harshly than strictly needed, perhaps. He waved his hand dismissively. "Go now. I have unfinished business to attend to."

Geralt sighed and leaned in a hairbreadth closer before pushing off the desk. "As my lord commands."

Only when the door closed behind him, Jaskier could breathe freely again. His knees gave out beneath him and he dropped onto his chair like a puppet whose strings have been cut. He ran a shaky hand over his face, trying desperately to sort his thoughts again. This was not good. First the worry, now the nervousness… This was not good at all.

It wasn't exactly as if being close to Geralt was unpleasant, quite the contrary. It was just that it was unbidden. Unwanted. Undeserved.

He had left all of those feelings behind him on that mountain. With his return to Lettenhove, he had rid himself of all his silly fancies in order to become the pretty, tame little songbird his parents had craved all along.

After everything they'd been through, it felt wrong. It was so awfully familiar when it shouldn't be. It probably would be easy to just act as if nothing had happened. To fall back into that familiar pattern of teasing each other, maybe even something more and yet-

Jaskier couldn’t pretend the mountain hadn’t happened. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t returned to the place he had vowed to shun of the rest of his life, and that he couldn’t leave again. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t spent ten long months nursing a broken heart over someone who had never been his in the first place, that he hadn’t heard a word from Geralt for one and a half years - that had never happened before, not in sixteen years.  He couldn't just forget that he had offered up his soul up on that mountain and that there still hadn't been so much as a talk about it, much less an apology. And he certainly couldn’t pretend that it was all fine.

Silence would be easy. Silence would be what they'd always done. They'd never talked about the djinn, never talked about Cintra, about any of the times when Geralt had broken his heart without even knowing. His conversation with Ciri came to his mind. That wasn't making up. That was suffering in silence. And he was done with that.

He stood and straightened his doublet. 'No,' he decided. Until they actually talked, there would be no repeat performance of whatever had just happened.

It was later that day when Jaskier almost fell to his death down the stairs of his tower as a giggling quartet of children raced past him. "Stop right there!" The Viscount shouted, and three of the four followed his command immediately. "What is it I have to see here?" He caught Ciri by the scruff of her neck. "What do you think you're doing, cousin?"

She giggled and writhed in his grasp. "Jaskier!" The three serving girls stared at her as if she'd grown a second head and one of them even mouthed 'Don't!' in warning. "We're just playing, let go of me already!"

He eyed the others warily, who quickly averted their gaze. They were certainly not company fit for the heiress to the Cintran throne. "Beggin' your pardon, m'lord," one of them. They made her happy, though.

"That's not what I mean," he said not unkindly. "I am talking to you, young lady, and about your foot."

"My foot is fine," she insisted. She pulled up her skirts and wriggled it around to prove it. "See?"

"Hmm," he said. "Did you talk to Wera about it?"

"I did!" she insisted. "She said it would be fine if I didn't jump and run around too much."

"And you think sprinting up my staircase is within the determined parameters?"

She looked up at him with large eyes. "Please, Jaskier," she begged. "Please let me play a bit longer. Only today."

'Oh,' he realised as a cruel fist clenched around his heart. 'She's lonely.' And how could he deny her when he had suffered the same strangling solitude of these cold grey halls for so long? "It's alright," he said and gently stroked her hair. "Run along now, we'll talk later."

Later turned out to be two days later after he had weathered another disagreement with Geralt — gods, as soon as the door closed behind the witcher he couldn't even remember what it had been about anymore. In that moment, he had understood the urge to batter something with a sword very well. He didn't follow through with it, though. He would most likely only make a fool of himself.

Instead he buried himself in his work. It had just been an excuse for the alderman at first, but the letter he had written had gotten him thinking. He probably should reconnect with his old friends from Oxenfurt — most were bards, just like he had been, but some held their own lands now. 'The jolly days of our youth are past,' he thought bitterly, 'we have to settle down if we don't want to die as we lived: strolling minstrels in an unmarked grave.'

So, he had begun writing them again, inquiring about fiancées he'd seduced and brother's he'd bedded, racking his brain for any kind of information about them besides their relatives he'd spent lovely nights with. He couldn't come up with a lot. He only hoped there would be some kind of payoff for all the trouble.

When he was just trying to remember the name of a particularly handsome set of twins he’d met at a  ball once, Ciri walked in without even knocking. "Hello, Jaskier," she greeted him and hopped onto one of the side tables.

"Hello, Ciri," he answered, continuing to write his letter. He was almost done when he noticed that his study was silent safe for the scratching of his quill — the usual chatter that began as soon as Ciri walked through a door suspiciously missing. He put the quill down and tilted his head. "Are you quite alright, darling girl?"

She shrugged and stared down onto her dangling feet. 'Oh-oh,' he thought, 'that's not good.'

"What's the matter, Ciri, talk to me," he beckoned. When she still did not answer he continued: "Are you unhappy?"

"That's not it," she said quietly.

"Then what is?"

"I think Geralt is sad," she admitted finally.

"Oh?" Jaskier stood and moved to sit on the edge of his desk. "Why do you think so?"

"I think he is sad that he can't train me like he did before anymore. He kept talking about how it all reminded him of Kaer Morhen. He doesn't do that anymore. He's also very grumpy." Before he could say anything, she held up a hand to shut him up — a gesture she seemed to have picked up from him — and continued: "Even grumpier than usual."

"Even grumpier?" he asked incredulously. "Dear girl, you have to be mistaken. That cannot be possible."

"It is!" she whined. More quietly she added: "Make it stop."

Whatever clever remark he had prepared died on his lips. She sounded so earnestly, so heartbroken, so- "Alright," he heard himself say. "I'll make it right again."

"Great!" she answered. Grinning widely, she pecked him on the cheek before running off again. He stared after her for a long time, wondering what on earth had possessed him to make such a promise he couldn't hope to keep.

It was almost time for dinner when he finally came up with a plan and made his way to the guardroom. "Evening," he greeted the gathered men cheerily. There were about five of them, gathered around a table where Geralt and Borys were engaged in a round of Gwent. They didn't even look up, eyes on the cards and the pile of gold between them. "Is Marin here?"

"In his room, m'lord," one of the others, whose name Jaskier couldn't recall, answered.

He nodded his thanks and made his way up the short flight of stairs to the Captain of the Guard's room. Without knocking he opened the door. Marin was sat on a stool, bent over a tarnished mirror, and shaving with a rather blunt razor. 'Should I increase the salary, maybe?' Jaskier wondered, but that was a thought for another time. He cleared his throat quietly.

Marin nicked himself and cursed loudly before turning to see who it was. "My lord!" He leapt to his feet and knocked the stool over in the process. "I didn't-"

"Relax, Marin," he said tiredly, "and sit down again, for Melitele's sake, She knows you deserve the rest."

"Right," he said warily and righted the chair, still hesitant to sit while Jaskier was standing. Instead of waiting out the internal debate of his Captain, he simply sat down on the shaky desk in the corner. Finally, Marin did as he had told him. "Why exactly are you here, my lord?"

"I wanted to thank you," he answered honestly. "For your advice, when-" his voice broke without his permission.

A kind smile spread on Marin's face. "You're welcome, my lord."

Jaskier wet his lips with his tongue. "I've also come to request another piece of advice."

"I'll be glad to oblige."

"How do you train your guards?" he asked bluntly.

"I- I beg your pardon? I-" Marin stuttered, clearly taken aback.

Jaskier tried not to sigh in annoyance. "No, you haven't misheard. How do you train your guards?"

"Well, there's drills. For longbows and crossbows, swords, too. Halberds, sometimes. I teach some of the lads how to ride, the most promising ones. And I have them trek through the forest with heavy bags. That’s about it."

"Hm," he said and frowned deeply. 'That's not exactly what I'm looking for here.' He took a moment before continuing: "And, theoretically, if you wanted to train their reflexes as well as their agility, how would you go about that?"

Marin raised his eyebrows. "Theoretically?" he parroted.

"Theoretically," Jaskier confirmed.

Slowly, he said: "Theoretically, as in... similar to balancing on railings or barrels?"

"Theoretically, yes."

"In that case, theoretically, I guess I'd build a structure I could put my trust in. Not too high above the ground, I'll wager. Beams and monkey bars, even a quintain or two, maybe. It would train her reflexes to respond to unexpected blows — theoretically, of course. And I'd definitely pad the floor with something soft. Bales of straw or something.."

"Hm." Now that was something he could work with. Well, not Jaskier himself necessarily, he'd definitely need help for that. "And, theoretically, could you draw the plans for that?"

Marin seemed to consider the idea for a moment. "Theoretically, I could."

"Good man."

"I'll have them by you within the week, my lord."

Jaskier flashed him a bright smile and opened the door. "I'm looking forward to it," he said with a wink, "theoretically."

He went back down to the guardroom and was greeted by wolf whistles by some of the older guards who he had known in his youth. 'When did the boys I grew up and trained with become the older guards?' he wondered absentmindedly. Geralt was still playing Gwent, although with another opponent.

"And what business did you have with the Captain, Master Julian?" Borys asked with a lewd grin.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied and made a show of blowing him a kiss.

The wolf whistles grew loud again and Borys laughed. "I believe I would, m'lord. Care to show me?"

His smile froze on his face. "Maybe later."

The guard sitting next to Borys jabbed him in the ribs sharply. "That's a no," he stage-whispered and the guards laughed.

Jaskier was still thinking of a smooth reply when Geralt suddenly threw down his cards and exclaimed: "Fuck!"

His opponent laughed heartily, quickly scooped up the coins between them, and hid them from Jaskier's view. Not that he cared. He still clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Gambling away your earnings already, witcher?"

"Not anymore," he grumbled and stowed his cards away. "I'm done for today." He stood and walked over to Jaskier who regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"Waiting for something?"

"You're blocking the door. My lord."

"Right." Jaskier reached behind himself and turned the knob. "Enjoy your evening," he called to the guards before opening the door and waving Geralt through.

As soon as the door shut behind them, the voices started up again but Jaskier couldn't tell what they were saying. Geralt, though, turned beet-red and hunched his shoulders, apparently trying to get away as fast as possible.

"What are they talking about?" Jaskier asked with amusement.

"Nothing important," Geralt muttered and held the door to the courtyard open for Jaskier. They had almost crossed it when he spoke up again: "You aren't sleeping with any of them."

"Why the sudden interest in my sex life? You only ever cared about whose pants I kept out of not whose pants I got into."

"Hmm," Geralt made and eyed him up. "I thought I knew you, my lord."

He couldn't keep from flinching. 'You did,' he wanted to tell him. 'You were the only person I didn't put on a show for. And see where that got me.' But he wasn't quite ready to lead that conversation, yet. "Well, I changed."

"I'm aware," the witcher answered. 'Why does he sound so sad?' "I'm trying to get to know you again."

He bit his tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood again. But they had reached the East Wing now and he didn't want either of his sisters to witness whatever needed to be said between them. He sighed. "No, I'm not," he answered the earlier question. “Sleeping with them, that is.”

"Will you tell me why?" Geralt opened the door for him.

"Maybe later," Jaskier answered honestly. "This is no conversation for dinner." With that he shouldered the doors to the dining room open.

"Julian!" Ciri said excitedly, who had quickly learned not to call him Jaskier in front of his sisters. She smiled brightly, and after that it was easy to get into character, grinning widely and chattering away. The princess was a very useful prop when it came to him wearing that particular mask.

"Hello, cousin," he greeted her and went to press a kiss to her forehead. "How was your training today?"

"Boring." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not allowed to run or do cartwheels at all. Only footwork. Geralt says I'll injure my ankle again elsewise."

"And he's very right about that," he told her and took his place at the head of the table as Geralt sat down at his right. He waved his hand to signal for the servants to bring the food and continued: "Just imagine if you twisted it again, or, Melitele forbid, broke it. You wouldn't be able to leave your room for weeks on end!"

The horror on her face made him chuckle and dig into his food, too, beckoning his sisters to talk about their days. Afterwards they moved their conversation to the Fireplace Room, where Janina and Józefa took up their needlework.

"So, witcher," Józia asked after settling into a steady rhythm, "you returned from your hunt in the woods."

"I did," he agreed as he sat down in the armchair across from Jaskier.

"Tell us about it, will you?" It wasn't a question.

Geralt's glance flickered to Jaskier, as if asking for permission. He raised an eyebrow and his lips curled into the tiniest of smiles. After a moment of consideration, he raised his goblet of mulled wine to Geralt, beckoning him to carry on.

Janina snorted rudely and stood. "Forgive me, my lord," she said tersely, "but I do not think I have to listen to that. May I retire for the night?"

He swirled the wine in his cup, contemplating it. For a moment he considered telling her no — she had lost the bet, after all. Then again, he wasn't cruel. Janina had her reasons for her resentment against witchers just like he had his for his reverence. It was a topic best left untouched within Lettenhove's walls. He waved his hand dismissively and she hastily fled the scene.

"What-" Ciri began but Józefa shook her head.

"Not now, child," she said quietly. Facing Geralt she asked: "Well?"

Jaskier could basically feel him grinding his teeth and was more than a little surprised when the witcher broke into the probably most detailed story about his adventures Jaskier had ever heard from his mouth. He even included details like the frankly hilarious name of the pig, Sam the Ham, he had shared a bedstead with.

When he was done, Jaskier was still feeling eerie as he always did after hearing a particularly compelling story and stood from his armchair. "Walk with me?" he asked Geralt.

The witcher looked up at him funnily. "Sure, my lord."

The night was crisp — freezing almost, and Jaskier gladly accepted the warm cloak a servant brought him hurriedly before they could climb the battlements. "My, my," he said quietly, "it seems like I'm not the only one who changed. Where's the taciturn witcher I fe-" He bit his tongue. "-I travelled with?"

"Hm," Geralt said and Jaskier was almost about to make another comment when the witcher already continued talking: "I don't know, my lord, but I was travelling with a bard named Jaskier. He might know the answer."

"You-" Jaskier gasped indignantly, fumbling for words. Geralt just raised his eyebrows. A challenge. An invitation. Jaskier was tempted to accept. But when wasn't Geralt a temptation for him? "Fine," he said curtly. "I'll ask him."

"Do tell me when you do," he leaned against the merlon as Jaskier sat down between two of them. "I'd like to have a few words with him myself."

He looked up and tilted his head, stubbornly ignoring the fluttering feeling in his gut and the song lyrics in his mind when he saw him bathed in silvery moonlight. 'I once loved a man as white as snow / His skin was deathly pale / His hair a silvery moonlit veil / His eyes two golden suns / After decades of scorn I was once again shunned / But I loved him even so.' He sighed and tore his eyes away. "All in due time, witcher," he whispered, "All in due time..."

"Hm," he answered and took to staring into the night as well.

It was a strange but still familiar silence that settled between them. Once upon a time it would have been filled with chatter and songs and jabs. But still, as the white puffs of their breath mingled in the cold, Jaskier relaxed for the first time in weeks. Because that was Geralt, the White Wolf, standing beside him and he was still Jaskier the Bard somewhere deep down inside, and that still counted for something.

"It wouldn't be fair to them," Jaskier broke the silence at last.

"What wouldn't be?"

"Sleeping with them. They are sworn to be at best, my subjects and property at worst. They can't refuse. It wouldn't be right. That's not the kind of lord I want to be."

"I thought you didn't want to be any kind of lord, my lord," Geralt answered and began inspecting him instead. It made Jaskier's skin crawl with unease. 'I'm weak, my love, and I am wanting,' another line came to his mind. 'Please,' he begged weakly, resisting the urge to recoil beneath the merciless glare, 'I cannot be found wanting again.'

"I don't," he said bitterly, "Alas, I already am. Might as well do my best."

"Hmm."

"My father was that kind of lord," he said without really knowing why, "my grandfather was, too. I suspect half the garrison consists of my siblings and cousins."

"He wasn't a good lord, then?"

"No,” he said quietly, “and he wasn't a good person either."

"Hmm." Finally, Geralt looked away. "At least his son turned out well enough. Don't know about you being a lord, but I know that you're not a bad person."

Jaskier blinked in surprise. "Thank you, Geralt," he said and resisted the urge to take his hand.

To his surprise it was Geralt who grasped for his fingers instead. "Hmm," he made, warming them between his palms. Jaskier ignored how his heart skipped a beat. "Get inside, my lord, and get to bed. Before you freeze to death."

"Right," he breathes, his words blowing out in the night air like the clouds of his breath. "Goodnight, witcher."

"Goodnight, my lord. Sleep well."

[regrettablewritings]

If it’s okay. Can I please request some LOVE headcanons with Jaskier, if it hasn’t already been requested?

Dang . . . We almost got an entire set here with Jaskier 👀

Who said “I love you” first?: You know it was Jaskier. Not only because you’d spent the entire time leading up to that point desperately trying to stifle your newly-found affections, but also because everybody knows that the loudest mouth on the continent has to have the first word. However, given that it’s Jaskier, you don’t buy it at first. For one, the man throws the word “love” around as, well, a bard throws around cheesy prose. Who’s to say that his dramatic gesture of spreading his arms wide and crying out gloriously, “Dear (Y/N)! I have determined that you! Are! The! One!!” wasn’t just another show for him? For another, as much as a part of you wanted to believe otherwise, a much larger part just couldn’t believe the possibility that someone like Jaskier could like someone like you romantically -- in whatever way “someone like Jaskier” could be taken. You initial reluctance to accept the bard’s confession left him a husk of a man, pouting and frustrated as he ranted to Geralt in the secrecy of a rented room at a tavern. All the while, the latter could only bluntly state that it’s Jaskier’s fault for having taken everything without much seriousness to it. His actions got him into this mess, he surely couldn’t expect for them to get him out of it. So he had to go the other way about it. You were very concerned when Jaskier got quiet. He’d already been acting strange for the last while or so, fumbling over his words and even struggling to babble on whimsically to jostle up songs. You had half a mind to assume that the poor fool might’ve been falling sick! But when he insisted he wasn’t, and that you still accompany him to the small plot of gardening land beside the tavern, your curiosity led you to oblige. You simply had to see where this was going. Hopefully to an explanation as to why he’d been acting so funny lately. In hindsight, the silly boy had probably scoped the area to find the most romantic spot. Admittedly, there’s not so many romantic associations one might have with raspberries, but there was a rock large enough to sit upon nearby where they were growing, which Jaskier apparently decided would have to do. It wasn’t a bench or a charmingly rustic fountain, but he still took it upon himself to treat it as though it were just as special. You wordlessly (if confusedly) followed suit, perching yourself on it per his request. Though, the temptation to leap right off of it struck the moment he took your hand into his own and locked eyes with you. You’d never heard Jaskier speak so calmly, so seriously, yet without a hint of graveness in it. You waited for him to reveal that it had been a joke, that he was using the moment to harvest some sort of song fodder from your response. But it never came. He just kept kneeling before you, awaiting your response, the hope in his eyes dwindling bit by bit in the moonlight the longer you went without saying anything. “Oh,” he finally spoke. Your heart could’ve shattered with the hint of trembling in that single syllable. “I, um . . . I suppose it is a bit -- it was a poor choice to -- I shouldn’t have -- ” No sentence sounded right to him in his moment of embarrassment. He tried getting back up, unlocking your hand from his, but your reinforced grip gave him pause. You shook your head, your heart beating so hard and fast that it hurt. And yet, the pain of it dulled when in comparison to the relief and bliss you felt.

What are their primary love languages?: Being the attention whore that he is, it would only be suitable that Jaskier reaps love and affection through words of affirmation and quality time. Yeah, he’s also a very sexual being, but he’s an entertainer down to the bone: It’s simply in his nature to desire your attention. When you spent quality time with him and give him praises meant only for him, you simply must be paying attention to him! And even beyond that, it provides the both of you means to communicate and get to know one another. (Well, more than you would already have to, given that you’re on the road all the time.) But for as arrogant as Jaskier is, that bardic nature goes both ways: It’s also in his nature to appraise everything to the highest and most flowery degree, as well as to throw that attentiveness to physical appeal right back at you. He loves being able to be physically close to you in any way that he can, especially sexually. And if he can make sweet and attentive love to you while also (literally) singing your praises? Worshiping your looks and your responses to his ministrations? It’s like he’s died and gone to heaven, a la le petit mort!

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: Frequently, when the opportunity provides it. Of course, cuddling is difficult to do when one is on the road. And even though the ground isn’t necessarily the most ideal bed for it, being spooned can certainly help alleviate the dread of having to sleep on a floor that could become muddy soon enough. But that doesn’t stop the two of you from engaging in physical forms of affection whenever you can. You’ve never really been one especially for public displays of affection, but something about holding Jaskier’s hand as the two of you trail behind Geralt and Ciri just feels right. His hold is soft and warm, with only trace amounts of callousness due to his constant strumming on the lute. And when the group takes a break, you could think of nothing more refreshing than being able to sit at the base of a large tree and tuck yourself into the crook of your significant other’s arm as the both of you rest in silence, just enjoying the ambience. Sometimes, if you’re in an especially bubbly or affectionate mood, kisses wind up exchanged with no care on if Geralt or the child see you. There’s nothing shameless about giving your beloved a kiss on the cheek or even a quick peck on the lips, is there? Besides, the real shame should fall on Jaskier for always taking it too far by trying to kiss a line up your neck. It just gets taken up to an 11 when you actually have a proper bed to sleep on: The spooning increases, the not so sneaky caresses along the sides make an appearance, and the not-even-trying-to-hide-it attempts at lovingly groping your lovely bits are made because at least now there’s some privacy. And if you’re in the right mood and not too tired from your travels, you don’t mind indulging.

What are their favorite things to do together?: It depends on where the two of you are, but the one consistency is chatting and flinging jokes at one another. Jaskier fancies himself a man of wit so when you prove not to be afraid of playing along or hucking jokes right back at him, he takes it as a game. One of the competing sort. No matter how you may try, that game is going to turn into the two of you trying to make the other laugh or blush with some crude or colorful remarks. (And you can pretend you’re above it all you want, you’re clearly enjoying it.) He also likes how much inspiration your talks can give him, from you recounting the places you’ve seen to the people you’ve encountered (though you insist it’s nowhere near as impressive as he tries to make them sound in song form).

Who’s better at comforting the other?: As observant and intuitive as Jaskier can surprisingly be, this doesn’t always mean that he’s the best at using what he’s learned to calm the situation. If anything, his skittish and overly talkative nature can only drive you further into frustration if he’s not too careful. You know he means well, but Jackie can still be a bit overwhelming if one is already not in the best mood. But when it comes to calming him, you’re one of the best there is. At the very least, you’re able to distract him enough or praise him enough to where he’ll become a little less catty. He may be pouting as he rests his head against your breast, but he’s (not so) secretly eating up the proximity, how your fingers gently card through his hair, how warm your chest feels as it vibrates with your words . . . Words that are, of course, telling him what a talented minstrel he really is, especially compared to that hack of a troubadour, Valdo Marx. The moment you feel him smirking is the moment you know he’s let go of all pretenses of being upset — he’d felt good as new long ago. Still, you let him stay there.

Who’s more protective?: I suppose Jaskier, though the more fitting term would be “possessive.” Jaskier isn’t a very competent fighter (read: He cannot fight at all) so when it comes to physical well-being, he isn’t much good for keeping you any more guarded than however fast you both can run away from the problem. He’s more of a guardian when it comes to the heart or a person’s mental well-being. As embarrassingly idiotic as he can sometimes be, he isn’t so completely unaware as to not notice toxicity in other people. Unfortunately, he’s ironically not very good at vocally communicating this. As a result, he can come across as clingy or annoying. Which he is. But also, he doesn’t want you hurt and has your best interests in mind. Meanwhile, you care plenty for his physical well-being but also know you’re not much of a fighter, either. Besides, Jaskier’s gotten by on the road by himself far longer than you’ve known him -- apparently, he knows how to at least keep his head still attached to his body.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Both. As a stereotypical bawdy bard, he loves giving it, and as a humanoid peacock of a man, he loves receiving it. Let him lay his head in your lap while you stroke his hair and tell him what a wonderful performer he is, and how his voice makes you weak and yet empowered with desire --

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: It may seem a bit rough to apply a song to such a musical man, but quite a few do come to mind: “Sweet Talk” by Saint Motel, “Put Your Money on Me” by The Struts, “Fall in Love” by Bad Rabbits, “Hands” by Barns Courtney . . . Now, if you take the time to listen to these or even look up some of the lyrics, you’ll notice a trend: A man pining for a woman who’s always just ever so slightly out of his reach. Or a man singing his delight for a woman who seems altogether unimpressed or at least hesitant to take a chance on him. Or the girl is just elusive. Which makes perfect sense, given that you’re one to guard her heart when in the face of the minstrel while Jaskier is the one putting his own entirely out there for you. But don’t be dismayed: Jaskier loves a good chase. His type is best defined as “someone he shouldn’t have or must at least bust his ass to acquire”, as one can assume from his interactions with concubines, higher-standing nobility, mothers, warriors, Geralt . . . But if you have a taste for something more optimistic or lighthearted, fear not: There’s always “Easy Way” by For the Foxes or “Undone” by The Bird and the Bee. What makes a song like “Undone” unique, however, is that it’s more for your point-of-view. Your feelings for Jaskier are complex yet so simple. He knows you’re not exactly the best at emoting, much less when it comes to your affections. But sometimes, you think that’s a good thing: If you were even half so brave or careless, the poor man might’ve died from your more frequent desire to kiss him to death (not that he would mind dying in such a pretty way). You can put on a calm expression all you want: Inside, you’re a storm of thoughts. You want to impress him, you want him to think you’re witty and bewitching, you want to be his yet one definite thing, you want to be the one who, well, can make him come undone with just a kiss. And it just takes you aback sometimes to realize that the very man, known for his philandering, already sees no wrong in you, and that he wants nothing more than the very same. With you and only you.

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: It startled you to learn one day that you’d been calling him a nickname the entire time. In hindsight, yeah, it made sense: “Jaskier” was unusual as a given name. But you had grown so used to it and how it fit him like it was bespoke, that learning his real name was Julian just . . . It felt weird. Still, that didn’t erase the fact that, yes, Jaskier was technically still a nickname for him that you’d been using, knowingly or not. Though, every once in a while you would make an attempt to refer to him as something else: “Baby Eyes”, you realized, had some unusual sticking power to it.It’s normally used in an almost pouty tone, usually to accompany the pouting Jaskier’s already doing when you say it. Not in a taunting manner, but as if to extend sympathy. You hadn’t even meant for the name to keep reappearing but it just rolls off the tongue, especially whenever Jaskier looks at you with those blue eyes, fixed in a puppyish pout. He also seems to respond well to names that suggest his talent or genius, but we would be here all night running through the specifics due to how ridiculously and pointlessly long they are. The length of Jaskier’s names had actually become a bit of a problem even when in reference to you: It’s not really a nickname when your lover wants to refer to you as “Stunning Little Starling of the Northern Sky” or “Darling Daffodil of the Valley” and so on. He’s had to shorten quite a few down to “Starling” or “Darling” or “Daffodil” or “My Muse” or “Exquisite One, Conqueror of My Heart, Goddess of My Sleeping Hours, Patron Saint to My Loins --”.

Thank you for your patience!

[lesdemonium]

so this fic is turning into a behemoth and though the first chapter is done and edited (and 6k words good lord), i don’t want to post it until i have at least the second chapter completely finished. but, because i am loving this fic, gonna post a bit of the WIP: Geralt tries to talk to a very, very angry Jaskier and it goes very poorly.

(chapter 1 has now been posted on ao3 |  on tumblr)

“Now’s your chance,” Ciri piped up, nudging Geralt with her elbow. Geralt looked up to see Jaskier thanking the crowd, making his bows, and collecting the money he had at his feet. From the way he was very pointedly not looking in their direction, he must have realized Geralt’s party was there.

Geralt’s jaw set and he hesitated only a moment before he pushed away from the table, following Jaskier to the bar. He sat down heavily on the stool next to Jaskier and if Jaskier knew he was there (how could he not?) he didn’t let on.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said after a long, painful moment of silence. Jaskier’s expression did not change, though he did take a long, long drink from the ale before him. It had been full moments ago, but now as he set it back down on the bar with a thud, it was only half filled. Jaskier wiped his lips, wrapped both his hands around the tankard hard enough that Geralt could see his fingers turn white, and let out a woosh of a breath.

“Geralt, to what do I owe the honor?” And that, exactly, was why Yennefer was right. They needed Jaskier. No one else could sound bright and cheery to see him, with the added layer of deep, deep sarcasm. He didn’t even bother to look at Geralt, which was probably the worst part. “Did you like my set?”

“Jaskier, we need to talk. Somewhere private.”

Jaskier turned, but still he didn’t look at Geralt. His eyes slipped right over the witcher and instead settled briefly on the table Ciri and Yennefer were sitting at. At least, that was what Geralt assumed Jaskier was looking at; he didn’t look himself. He was certain at least a few pairs of ears were listening in, and he wasn’t about to draw more attention to the princess.

“Interesting company you’re keeping, Geralt. You and Yennefer decided to adopt? How quaint,” Jaskier said in lieu of an answer, turning back to his ale. He lifted it to his lips, looking intent to finish the remaining drink, when Geralt seized his wrist to stop him. Jaskier’s reaction was immediate--he tore his arm away from Geralt viciously, his ale sloshing out and drenching a man a seat away.

The man shot up, towering over Jaskier’s seated form, and shoved Jaskier off the stool. The stein and what remaining liquid there was crashed to the floor, and Jaskier scrambled to his feet to face his assailant.

“Someone should have laid off the ale, bard,” the man declared, tone threatening and his face only inches from Jaskier’s face. Even with Jaskier standing, he was taller than the bard, but not by much, and the murderous look on Jaskier’s face had Geralt stepping off his own seat to intervene.

“Really? I think your smell has greatly improved. You should be thanking me for my service,” Jaskier snapped, and Geralt groaned. Of course Jaskier couldn’t just leave it alone. If Geralt hadn’t spoken to him, maybe Jaskier would have made a joke to calm the man down, get him off his back, but an angry Jaskier made for an impulsive Jaskier, ready for a fight. 

Rather than allow this to get any further, Geralt tugged Jaskier back and behind him by the collar of his doublet, standing eye-to-eye with the tavern patron. “Leave the bard be.” He dropped some coins on the bartop. “For the injury and to get your clothes laundered.” 

The man’s eyes glinted angrily, but he accepted the money with only muffled grumbling, and returned to his seat. The tavern slowly stuttered back to life, but when Geralt turned around, Jaskier was already halfway out the door, his fury palpable.

Geralt turned to Yennefer and Ciri, raising his eyebrow expectantly, but he was met with Ciri’s disappointed face and Yennefer’s exasperated one. Yennefer strode out the door without another look at Geralt, who felt thoroughly chastised, and irritated for it. How was he supposed to know Jaskier would behave so dramatically? He had done his best.