#dang it Boba makes a really good witcher

[theloneliestshipper]

have you ever thought about a rebel bounty Witcher!AU? I just finished the books and like Boba would make a prime Witcher, he definitely gives off grumpy monster hunter vibes

I haven’t read the books myself, but I have seen the Netflix series so in the spirit of that...

AO3 Link

Witcher AU

Ten years ago, the princess was abducted. Taken prisoner by the sorcerer Jabben who wed her by force and kept her bound by enchantment to his cursed stronghold at Mospera. That’s the story they tell, the story Boba was told when he was hired.

“Doesn’t look very cursed, does it?” Fenn Shysa is a bard who sometimes travels with him, spinning songs and tales at taverns to draw in crowds and pay for their lodging. Boba prefers to work alone but he can’t argue with results. Both his ability to find work and his ability to avoid suspicious crowds with pitchforks have increased since the bard joined him.

He can’t argue with Fenn’s assessment either. The village of Mospera is clearly prosperous, the town square is decorated with flowers and banners for a market day that is coming to an end as they arrive. The rich scent of stew is in the air as the people return to their homes for supper. A vendor approaches, proffering meat pies at a discount, and Fenn swiftly charms the directions to Jabben’s keep from him.

“I’ll just stay here and wait for you,” the bard informs Boba, still smiling at the vendor. He’s a handsome man and his cheeks are very rosy when he looks at Fenn.

Boba continues on alone. No one stops him until he reaches the gate. “My name is Boba of Fett. I’m here on business to see Master Jabben.”

The guards exchange a look. They escort him to an audience chamber, where he is presently greeted by a bald man in the dignified robes of an advisor. “Greetings to you, traveler. I am called Bibar and it would be my pleasure to assist you with your business here.”

“I must see Master Jabben.”

“It’s not possible, I’m afraid.”

“It’s about his wife.”

That provokes a response. Bibar stills and then clasps his hands. “One moment, please.” When he returns, he holds the door open. “This way. The lady will speak to you.”

He’s interrupting her dinner. A generous table has been set for Princess Leia of Nabu, who reclines comfortably on cushions with a goblet of wine in her hand. The portrait he was shown gave a good likeness of her beauty, making her easily identifiable even ten years later. Her long brown hair hangs to her waist, loosely bound with ribbons, and large dark eyes watch his entrance.

“So,” she says. “You have some business here which you will not reveal, and it must have something to do with me. Speak, sir.”

“May we speak in private, my lady?”

Her eyes shift to Bibar and she gives a slight nod. “Very well.”

The advisor leaves and Boba steps forward. “My name is Boba of Fett. I was sent here to kill Jabben and break his enchantment.”

“Ahhh. But you are not a sorcerer.” She speaks with confidence, her eyes assessing. “Surely they haven’t sent a witcher.”

“What can you tell me about the curse?”

She pauses to finish the wine in her cup, the gesture unhurried. “Can I offer you a drink? Some food?”

“Are you bound from discussing it?”

“No.” She sits up a little and refills her glass from a gilded pitcher. “There is no point in discussing it. It cannot be broken.”

“All curses can be broken.”

“This one can only be broken by one thing. My maidenhead.” In the silence that follows she sighs and motions to a bench. “Sit, Witcher. I will tell you the tale.”

He does, his hand on his sword hilt. It can only be a matter of time before his purpose here is discovered.

“Jabben was a more clever rapist than most. He cursed me to never leave this keep while I was still a virgin. He knew no one else would dare touch his wife, so he thought it would force me to offer myself up to him. Then one night he was eating crushfruits in bed and choked on a pit. He died with his wish unfulfilled.”

This was a twist he did not anticipate. “Jabben is dead.”

“Dead and buried for many years.”

“But the curse remains.”

“It troubles me very little. I have done my best to be a just and fair ruler in his stead, and the people of Mospera have rewarded me with their loyalty.”

Her lack of self-pity is admirable, but something about the story doesn’t quite seem right to Boba. “You could have broken the curse on your own after Jabben’s death.”

“The only people I see are my subordinates, and how could I ask such a thing of them?” She waves her goblet with too much abandon, wine sloshing over the rim.

“You could have had someone brought to you. Someone from outside of Mospera.”

“I’m afraid the number of volunteers to enter a cursed stronghold is a slim number, present company excluded.” Her eyes drop down to his feet and back up again before she sets down her goblet. “I have had a long day of reviewing accounts and now I have indulged too much with my dinner. Please help yourself if you are so inclined. Bibar will show you out when you are ready to leave.”

She stands abruptly and sways, her hands outstretched for balance. Boba is quickly at her side, steadying her with a hand on her arm. “Perhaps we could also offer you a bath for your trouble,” she says, looking up at him with a soft, teasing smile. “I would see to it myself but I think I must go to bed.”

“Do you need help getting to your chamber, my lady?”

Her full lips part. “If you would be so kind.” He sweeps her up into his arms, and she laughs as she settles her arms around her neck. “I’ve heard so many terrible things about witchers, and yet I find you to be very pleasant company, Boba.”

He doesn’t answer. He’s already retracing his steps, moving as swiftly as he can.

“This is not the way to my chambers.” Even in her inebriated state, she notices. “Where are you taking me?”

“I thought some fresh air might do you good.”

“What? No!” She kicks and struggles, but he has a good grip and will not relinquish it. “I cannot go outside you fool-”

As soon as they’re through the gate she falls silent. Boba sets her down, and she glares at him, plainly furious. “How dare you deceive me!”

“Deceit for deceit. You broke the curse long ago, why have you not returned home?”

“This is my home! But you had to keep sniffing like some starving dog-” She shoves him, which doesn’t have much of an impact. “If you try to make me go with you I swear to you I’ll scream loudly enough to bring every soldier in the barracks.”

She tries to push him again and Boba catches her arms, holding her in place. “You don’t want me to kill your soldiers.”

Her resolve crumples a little at that. “I will not go back to Nabu.”

“Tell me what happened. The truth.”

He releases her arms and she takes a step back, drawing in a shuddering breath. “Nabu has long been under the influence of the sorcerer Palpatine. He sought to use my brother and I as bargaining chips by wedding us to empires as cruel and brutish as he wants Nabu to be. When I saw how my brother was traded off like livestock I ran. And then Jabben found me.”

Her arms fold tight over her chest as she continues. “Everything I told you about the curse was the truth. Every night before he laid down beside me he would tell me that I would give up eventually. That I would beg him to have me. So one night, as he slept, I smothered him with a pillow.”

“By yourself?”

“It was not easy. He fought, but my determination was great and I knew what the consequences would be if I failed. When I was sure his breathing had stilled I cut up the crushfruit and used the handle of a fireplace poker to push the pit down into his throat.”

“Fuck.”

“Jabben was not well liked. The people accepted his death quite readily.” She spread her hands at the walls and buildings around them. “Here I may do as I please with my life and my body. And as long as the myth of the curse prevails, I am free.”

With a heavy sigh, Boba turns away from her, his feet bound for the village.

“Where are you going?”

“To tell my bard that he’d best start writing a new song if he wants to eat tomorrow.”

“Wait.” She hurries after him. “You will leave empty-handed?”

“I came here to kill a monster. You beat me to it.”

She catches his sleeve, forcing him to halt. “Remain here tonight. In the morning I will see you and your bard fed and provisioned.”

“Why would you have me stay here?”

Her hand slides up his arm. “There are no curses to be broken here, Witcher. And no monsters to slay. But I would still welcome the company of someone who is not my subordinate.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you are in dire need of a bath.” She steps in closer, tilting her head back to look up at him. “By the time you are clean, I will likely be sober.”