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merlot-and-chardonnay · 11 months ago

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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 11.5

Chapter 11

"Now you see the lengths I can go to in order to take back what belongs to me," Daemon says in triumph as Caraxes stared down Geralt, the look in the dragon's eyes mirroring the same triumph and anger in his rider's.

Back inside the keep, the other witchers could only stare in awe and terror at the sight of the blood wrym.

"That's the dragon?!" Jaskier exclaims in shock, "that's THE dragon that Daemon rides?" "Caraxes," you nod in confirmation.

"I did say he was big," Ciri points out. "Yes, but THAT big?!" Jaskier exasperates.

"I have to agree with the bard on this one," Vesemir speaks, "Even if there were a hundred of us, we may not stand a chance."

"We have a sorceress to help us," Ciri points out. "I appreciate the confidence," Triss speaks, "but dragons are near impervious to magic. Just as with witchers, it would take dozens, even hundreds of us to subdue such a beast."

You sigh, taking a deep breath, thinking about what needed to be done. You were the reason Daemon came all this way. You were the one who could stop this conflict and prevent the bloodshed that was going to ensue.

"You are outmatched, witcher," Daemon continues his triumphant speech, "even with your tricks and spins and your enhanced senses, you are one man. You cannot hope to defeat a dragon on your own. Surrender now. Produce me (y/n) and my child, and I will spare you the destruction of your home, and you the pain of a burning death."

Geralt stood his ground, refusing to back down.

Right at that moment, the doors to Kaer Morhen opened wide. The witchers, lead by Vesemir, run out with swords in hand, their eyes black and skin ashen from the potions they had just consumed. Geralt turns to see the wolves join him in the fight.

Daemon's eyes widen a bit, not having realized there were more of the witcher's kind.

Geralt turned his gaze back to the prince, potion vial in hand, "as you can see, prince, I'm not alone," he downs the potion, his own eyes turning black and skin turning ashen white, "but you are, even with a dragon by your side," he points his sword at Daemon, "turn back now. There is nothing here for you."

"So you will not surrender?" Daemon asks, looking to Geralt, and the other witchers, "you would put your own brethren in mortal danger just to defend the woman you love?"

"We will all defend (y/n) and her child to the last fucking breath if we must," Eskel speaks, "they are one of us."

"You think yourself the first to invade Kaer Morhen?" Vesemir states, "Men who possessed none of what you have tried to rid the world of the likes of us once before, yet here we stand. We've survived the last raid, we will do so again."

"Go back home to your comfy cushioned palace, you fucking spoiled princeling!" Lambert sneers, the other witchers shouting and jeering in agreement.

"...So be it," Daemon says in a rather calm yet threatening tone, looking to Caraxes, who seemed all too eager to obey his master's next command. Daemon turned to the witchers, a small smile on his face, "Dracarys."

Caraxes raised his head and a pillar of fire shot from his mouth. The witchers simultaneously cast the Quen sign to shield themselves from the dragon's flaming wrath. While the sign proved to be effective, it did little to conceal the heat of the flames.

Nevertheless, the wolves stood there ground.

Meanwhile Triss stood by the entrance to the keep, gathering her thoughts and her strength, focusing on the dragon.

She begin to mutter incantations in the Elder Speech, focusing the chaos around her to surround Caraxes.

It took some time, but the spell started to take effect. Right on time as the witchers were starting to feel the heat of the flames burn through their armor and into their skin. Their magic shields were starting to falter right when Caraxes stopped.

Daemon looked to his dragon, wondering what was going on.

Caraxes swayed and started to move about in a sluggish fashion, almost as if he were disoriented, until he faltered down.

The blood wrym was down, but he was not completely out.

Triss kept repeating the incantations that kept Caraxes sedated; it hadn't even been a minute and already the effects of the spell were starting to take its toll on the sorceress.

Many of the witchers were still recovering from the dragon flame.

Vesemir, Lambert, and Coen and two of the witchers rush up to subdue the dragon. Despite the heavy sedation spell, Caraxes could still push his weight around and knock the wolves about.

Eskel and Geralt take up their swords and charge at Daemon. The prince parried each of their blows from their swords. Valyrian steel was lighter then silver, which worked in Eskel and Geralt's favor as they begin to push the prince back.

While the fighting was going on you ran to your room and found your daughter still in your crib.

You had no doubt the Geralt and his brethren could take on Daemon (one would've been more then enough to suffice), but Caraxes was a different story.

You trusted Triss to be a capable and strong sorceress, but if what she said was true, she would not be able to subdue the beast for much longer.

You take Aemma from the crib and cradle her to your chest, giving her a kiss on the head. You feel your eyes start to well up with tears.

Aemma looked up to you, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. To her, you were her whole world at this moment, unknowing of the outside world like she's been since the day she was born.

You loved her, and this was the last thing you wanted to do, but you couldn't be responsible for the needless deaths of the men who had welcomed you into their home and allowed you to stay and care for your daughter.

This needed to be done before more blood was shed.

You walk out of your room and into the main hall of the keep, heading for the front entrance.

"Uh, (y/n), what are you doing?" you hear Jaskier question in confusion, "Where are you going with Aemma?" You look to your brother with a knowing gaze.

"No," the Bard shakes his head, "no, no, no, (y/n), don't you dare, I forbid it." You scoff lightly, heart not completely in it, "when has that ever worked?"

"(y/n), you can't," Jaskier insists, "you don't have to do this, we can figure something else out." "Wait, what is she doing?" you hear Ciri ask. "Daemon is hear for Aemma and me," you say, "If I go with him, he'll spare Geralt and the others. I need to do this."

"No, don't," Ciri grabs your wrist, "you can't do this. I swore I would not let anything happen to Aemma, and I won't. I'll protect you, the both of you."

You turn to Ciri, tears in your eyes, "Ciri, you're a brave and sweet girl," you say, placing a hand on her head, "but don't make this anymore difficult then it already is." "But (y/n)-" "this is my decision, Ciri," you say sternly, "I'll be okay. Daemon won't hurt me, not as long as I have Aemma in my arms."

Meanwhile, the fight continued.

Daemon was pushed to the ground by Eskel as he and Geralt have their swords pointed at the prince. Daemon looked towards the keep to see Triss was still focusing her spell on Caraxes. If Daemon could take out the sorceress, the dragon would be back under his command once more.

Daemon got on his knees, putting his hands up to signify his surrender.

Geralt and Eskel still kept their defenses up as they slowly approach the prince.

Noticing the dagger by Eskel's side, Daemon quickly stands and grabs it, stabbing the man in the side.

"Eskel!" Geralt rushes to his brother's side as Daemon makes a run for it. Geralt was about to go after the prince, but Eskel was doubled over in pain.

The white hair witcher looked to see exactly where Daemon was running towards.

"Vesemir!" Geralt calls out, getting the elder witcher's attention, "he's going after Triss!"

Vesemir stopped fighting the dragon and ran after the prince.

Triss' nose was starting to bleed at this point, but she stood her ground and kept focus on the spell.

"Triss!" she hears Vesemir calls out.

Sure enough, Triss looks up to see Daemon about to stab her. The sorceress quickly dodged, but the sword braised her side, forcing her to falter in pain.

Vesemir ran to Triss' side and helped her to her feet.

The spell quickly dissipated and Caraxes shook off the effects, almost as if he was never under the spell's influence.

"We might want to fucking run now," Coen suggests.

Too late.

Caraxes growled and went after the witchers. One got snapped up in the dragon's jaws while the rest ran for their lives.

Daemon stood in triumph as Caraxes approached Geralt and Eskel. The prince walked towards the dragon and stared into both the witchers' eyes, ready to finish it all.

"STOP!!!"

Daemon and Caraxes both turned around towards the keep to see you by the entrance, the baby in your arms.

Daemon stood there, speechless. He felt himself start to walk towards you.

Before you knew it, Daemon stood in front of you, staring in awe at the bundle in your arms. "Please stop this, Daemon," you say, voice broken as you fought back your tears, "This is the reason you came all this way, isn't it? You came for me...and for Aemma."

"Aemma?" Daemon looked into the bundle to see your daughter's face, "you...named our daughter after the late queen?"

You nod, fighting the urge to shove Daemon away as he reached a hand to touch Aemma, rubbing her back.

"She is mine," you hear the prince whisper, "the blood of the dragon courses through her veins."

You look up to Daemon, staring into his eyes with a hard look on your face.

"Spare the witchers," you sternly tell him, "and we'll go with you. Please, Daemon, swear to me no further harm will come to them, and I'll swear to go with you back to King's Landing, or Dragonstone, or wherever it is you wish to take us. Just please, stop this madness."

Daemon looked to his daughter, then turned his gaze back to you. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, "you have my word, Little Lark. On the gods of Old Valyria."

You exhale, still annoyed by his pet name for you, but relieved that you were able to end this.

"(y/n)!" you hear Geralt call out, as he helps Eskel back to the keep, "what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," you say, letting a tear run down your cheek.

You feel Daemon place a hand on the small on your back and escort you towards Caraxes; the prince giving the witcher a knowing and triumphant look as he did so.

The witchers, Jaskier, and Triss could only stand and watch.

Ciri walked out of the keep, to see you and Daemon walking away.

"(y/n)!" she calls out, tears in her eyes, "don't do this!"

The young girl runs after you, but Geralt stops her, "Ciri!" he says. Ciri struggled, tears falling down as she watched Daemon help you up on Caraxes.

"No..." Ciri cries softly as Daemon mounts the beast behind you on the saddle.

"NO!!!!!"

The ground began to shake. Triss, Jaskier, and the witchers cover their ears from Ciri's screams. Caraxes roared in agony. You hold Aemma close to you for protection. Behind you, Daemon covered his own ears, looking to see where the source of this power was coming from.

For one reason or another, the chaos surrounding Ciri started to cause the witchers to pass out, the injured ones first.

Caraxes managed to protect you, Aemma, and Daemon by raising a wing to form in barrier in front of you.

"CIRI! STOP!!" you shout out, but it didn't do much good.

The keep was starting to crumble from the impact.

Triss stepped away from Vesemir, summoning what strength she had left to cast another spell to subdue Ciri.

It worked, but the spell also backfired, hitting Triss and Vesemir, causing them to pass out; the spell ricocheted towards Caraxes, who had lowered his wing, and hit you and Aemma.

To your surprise, you barely felt a thing. You look to Aemma, but it didn't seem anything different happened to her either.

Daemon leaned over your shoulder, concern for his daughter taking over.

Ciri, still disoriented from the impact of the spell, groggily got back on her feet. Seeing the everyone else was down, and the dragon had not yet taken off, she runs to you and Daemon.

Both you and Daemon could only stare at the young girl, shocked and speechless, even Caraxes seem to stare at her in shock as well.

"You want to take (y/n) and Aemma away from here, you're taking me too," Ciri states with authority.

---------------------------------------

Some time later, the witchers started to come to.

By the time Geralt regained consciousness he saw his brothers walk back to the keep, many of them exhausted and wounded.

Inside, Vesemir tended to Triss' wounds while Cone took care of Eskel.

Geralt walked in and approached the elder witcher, "Where are (y/n) and Aemma?" he asks. "...Gone," Vesemir says somberly, "as is Ciri."

"What?!" Geralt's eyes widen, "she...no, no, no," he shakes his head in denial.

He runs outside to calling out for Ciri, shouting into the mountain.

The witcher fell to his knees, not able to come to terms with the fact that not only was the women he loved taken away, but now his ward was taken from him as well.

Geralt turned his gaze to the west. He was going to do everything in his power to travel to Westeros, and bring you, Aemma, and Ciri back home.

Chapter 12

Masterlist

#geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x reader #ciri #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd #daemon #daemon targaryen #lambert #eskel #triss merigold #vesemir #caraxes #The Lady of Larks

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jaskiersongbird · 2 years ago

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#the witcher #witcher 3 #ciri #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandilion #lambert #eskel #triss merigold #yennifer #fringilla vigo #poll #witcher ciri #geralt

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finleycannotdraw · 2 years ago

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inspired by me having the same conversation with several people about the lack of hugs in this game. geralt, toxic masculinity is not your friend.

tell me in the tags who you’d make geralt hug because I’m going to make art (and cry) about it

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winters-mistress · 8 months ago

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Raindrops and Roses

"Here, girl." Vesemir says, placing a wooden plate upon Ciri's lap. The dog in her lap shifts, hid weight a conofrting presence. Icy blue eyes snap in Vesemir's direction, and Thunder growls at him. He's a breeding stud, and one of Ciri's favourite dogs that are here in the Keep. Hunting dogs, they tell her, a soft of wolf shepheard cross, but all Ciri sees are enormous fluffy beasts who she adores. He'd been napping on her ever since she'd returned from lunch, and she had been comforted by the weight and the warmth of the fluffy black and white dog.

The girl looks up from her camp of an old mage's settee settled by the fire, piled with blankets and furs and pillows, her skin pale as she looks up at the oldest witcher.

He reminds her of Eist, warm and strong and commanding and reliable, although Eist definitely wasn't as prickly as the old witcher was. The Skelligan jarl never handed out chores or lashes or scoldings in the way Vesemir did, but her beloved grandfather never lectured Mouseack or Calanthe the way he did Geralt, Lambert and Eskel when he felt they were treating her unfairly or too harshly. It wasn't often, and the quiet talking to's during pillowtalk the Skelligan had with Calanthe never produced the same results as the venomous lectures or whip lashes that the eldest witcher gave out to his pups.

Both men are strong and wise and raggedy and trustworthy and loyal, and Cirilla's heart aches with how much she misses him. The way he would tuck her into bed and curl around her when she had a nightmare, dump blankets upon her little head or rub his knuckles against her temple, tell her stories of his homeland and sneak her cookies and tartlets after one of the nannies had sent her to bed without supper when she had snuck out to play knucklebones or throw rocks in ponds. She misses him horribly, but there is an echo of him in the old wolf that tells her that he will be just as instrumental in healing her hurting heart as much as his pups would.

Geralt is her echo of Calanthe, strong and brave and wicked with a sword. Parental and forceful, antagonistic with her when she needs it just as much as they were gentle when the times for love came. Protectors in their own rights, a strong pillar coming in quick after grief.

Eskel is her echo of Mouseack. Magical and eerie, spiritual and gentle with a gruff exterior. Mouseack's imposing height and large beard spooked off as many people as Eskel's bulk and scars, thick, large hands that are scarred and powerful are the same ones that brush her hair back and wrap bleeding cuts and kiss her hair and light up her room with beautiful images when her ghosts threaten to tear her apart.

She cannot pinpoint who Lambert stands in as just yet. Perhaps a mix of Eist and Lazlo? Eist, who would teach her all the dirty tricks of knucklebones and rook and all the drunk card games, and Lambert, who tells her each and every dirty trick he has with a blade and at the card table as he taught her gwent. Lazlo, who would keep her in line when she would run off with her group of little companions scolds her just as much as Lambert does when she edges too close to poison ivy in the woods or in the caves below Kaer Morhen when the two of them go fishing one afternoon. He is rough and gruff, but he sits outside her room whenever she's woken up from a nightmare, gives her an extra slice of bread and slips her a couple sips of Rivian cherry liqueur whenever Geralt wasn't looking as the witchers hit the bottle.

She loves them all, as gruff and snappy and imposing and scarred as they all are.

Ciri comes back to earth and looks down at the plate Vesemir places in her lap. She doesn't understand why he's feeding her at first, they've had lunch two hours ago. Thick slices of chicken with warm bread and green wild vegetables, as well as some lovely strong and hard cheese and a couple berries Eskel hadn't useful for the pies the day before.

She still thinks about that hunk of cheese and bread, slick from the freshly churned butter that melted into the thick slices. Her mouth waters at the thought.

It's honeycomb. She realises, looking down at the plate. Two large and uneven hunks of the stuff, dripping and slick with honey, and four cookies with dollops of strawberry jam in the middle. The dog snuffles, uninterested at the food, and closes his eyes again.

Her eyes widen at the treats, and she looks up at the old wolf.

"Uh-" he scratches at the back of his neck, an uncharacteristic show of nerves. "I know our tonics and herbs fucked up your-" he points at her stomach underneath the dog and the blankets, and she wishes she hadn't. She'd forgotten about the pain for a few minutes, warm from the dog, while her back was similarly heated from hot waterskin Eskel had gotten for her that morning when she'd woken up in a panic, her sheets slick with blood and horrible cramping in her abdomen.

The witchers ran in, swords at the ready, one after another, and she couldn't find the words to stop their fears, blinded by tears and shaking with the pain.

She remembers when Triss was here and she'd gotten her cycle, when it came to light that the tonics they had her on were fucking her up good and proper. Her bones refusing to heal right, blood thinner than it should have been, the nausea and the headaches and the vivid nightmares and the aches and pains all coming to light, as well as the lumps Triss had found inside her after an examination.

They'd wear off in time, and she had thrown all the bottles of tonic and tea leaves in the fire after slapping them all silly. Verbally and physically.

She'd left for now, promising to come back at the end of spring with word of Ciri's pursuers, and warned all the witchers to never, ever, ever give any type of supplements to the girl again, otherwise she'd rip their balls off and shove them down their throats.

It's only been a month, Ciri supposed, Triss said it would take a while for the cysts to heal. She'd done all she could, made sure they wouldn't rupture, but she was no surgeon who could ease them out, and all they could do was wait for them to come out on their own.

But good gods, this is horrific.

"-the breadseed poppy's milk'll help the pain. But I thought these would make you feel better, try and make the next couple days a bit more bearable." He looks so earnest that it makes Ciri's heart heart a bit.

They hadn't meant to hurt her, hadn't realised the effects the supplements were happening. All they saw was her endurance and muscles were improving, and they all felt awful when Triss beat them all to Ciri's shaking doorframe as the girl screamed in pain.

Kaer Morhen should never hear a child scream like that again, not when it's seen so many.

They'd all apologised, seeming to be beating themselves up and be in worse shape than Cirilla herself had been. Lambert drunk himself into a stupor, Eskel had run -just like those first couple weeks when he couldn't separate the two granddaughter's of Kaer Morhen from each other- and Geralt had gone to slay one of the beasts in the caves wearing too few armour. And Vesemir had slapped them all and brought them to the girl so they could apologise and promise never to do it again.

All the pups think that suffering barters suffering, it seems.

"Thank you." She whispers, touched. These remind her of the honey cookies and strawberry tarts of her childhood, and her heart hurts with the memory and aches with the love she feels. "I-thank you."

Vesemir gruffs and pets her hair like he would the dog upon her legs.

"Eat up, girl. Need all the strength you can get right now. Then take a rest, 'll get Eskel to drop off one of those books you like whenever he and wolf get back from their hunting trip. Lamb's experimenting with some powder he found, so don't be surprised if the keep goes to shit and I have to dig the whip out again."

Ciri giggles, and Vesemir cracks a smile.

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quinemajo · 1 year ago

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I made fanart for "A Hoard of Witchers" Witcher fanfiction

#the witcher #digitalart #quine #fanart #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #lambertxaiden #lambert #eskel #vesemir #yennefer of vengerberg #ciri #triss merigold #aiden of the cats #aiden witcher #digitaldrawing #a hoard of Witchers #dragon!jaskier

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finnyphcntom · 2 months ago

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notorious.

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Chapter One : The Word Hate

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Did he over exaggerate? Yes. But something inside of him just.. felt weird when Dandelion was shamed upon. Geralt wasn't that bad of a dude, especially to Dandelion.

Lambert hated to say- yes, hated, that word again. He hated that he actually enjoyed Dandelion's presence.

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'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : oh but id lovee to convince you. maybe we can get a lil tipsy and ill go home with you, yeah handsome? ;)'

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Lambert was... notoriously known, for many things. What things? Well, the list is long, but here is the simplified version;

Being a bitch.

And then there was... well, thats about it.

He hated, hated, just about... Well, all? Of Geralts friends. Eskel would always say, "hate is such a strong word,"

Well no shit. He knew that, used it for a reason.

Speaking of hate, he hates when they hang out.

He was rather tired of everyone hanging out without inviting him. Yeah, he'd decline with a 'fuck no' or 'i hate triss lol' but, hell, he still wants at least an invite.

But no one bothered to invite him anymore.

They act like he doesnt know, isnt aware, of these events. Hes heard them talk, all because hes 'too angsty.'

Be real. If they had an Aiden, and then said Aiden died, theyd he angsty too.

Which, he will say, Geralt does have his Aiden.

Dandelion.

Lambert hated to say- yes, hated, that word again. He hated that he actually enjoyed Dandelion's presence.

And do you know what he hates even more?

That hes jealous.

He hates that he's jealous, and hates that he doesnt know what over.

Over Geralt? Maybe.

Over Dandelion? Maybe.

The fact that Dandelion gets invited to hangouts? Maybe.

Oooor the fact that Geralt, who treats Dandelion like shit, gets to keep his best friend. And he doesnt. Bingo, baby.

Well, okay, maybe it was a mix of all four.

But no, he heard of this party that was happening at Yennefer's house. How could he not? Kiera informed him alllll about it.

And another thing he was known for; not only being a bitch, but a petty one at that.

He was going to show up at that damn party.

~~~~~~

Lambert expected many things in his day. To fold clothes, deal with shitty customers, fold clothes again, to fix registers because somehow no one else knew how to do that, and then to again, you guessed it, fold clothes. Oh, and deal with shitty customers.

And then, he would go home around 3pm, just to clean horse shit and feed the goats on the farm. Only sometimes would he find holes in his perfectly good jeans.

But what he didnt expect? His phone to light up with a text. Ever since losing his girlfriend, he hasnt had a single text, other than from Eskel.

Eskel was a family man. Soft, sympathetic. He thinks he would have a little bit more trouble lying and hiding stuff behind his back. He thinks any of these people who are hosting these parties, throwing the- his phone dings again.

Oh, right. He was so used to a lonely phone that he forgot it went off.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : hey lambert, i know we dont really talk but what time is that party tomorrow? ive got a performance that day and want to arrange an uber ^-^'

Holy fucking shit? It had to be Dandelion. No one else in the group was talented enough with music to perform it.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : also!! how come u never go? :('

That was the second message.

Did Dandelion not know?

What does he do? He hated to say that his heart was racing. Why was his heart racing? It was just Dandelion. Just a rising celebrity with like seven degrees- from Oxenfurt no less- and his brothers best friend.

His heart was fucking racing. Does he be cool? Does he be mysterious? Should he even answer?

No, no he had to answer.

The few times hes talked to Dandelion have been.. amazing, actually. Of course, Dandelion had an issue with talking to strangers, and also, well, sleeping with strangers, but that was fine. Lambert felt like Dandelion enjoyed talking to, well...

Lambert.

Not Geralts brother, not a bitch (which he will admit he is,) not a depressed, angsty man who practically lives in his room at the farm he grew up on. Which he was.

His phone dings again. Shit.

Lambert grabs his phone off of his car mount this time, sitting in the parking lot of his shitty retail job at Cavill's Combat.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : oh shit my bad i probably shouldve clarified. this is dandelion im sorry'

Be chill Lambert.

'lambert : heyy yeah no youre good lol'

The multiple y's were cool? Right? Showed he was calm. One Y was boring, three was excessive. Right?

'lambert : as for the party, i have no clue thats a geralt question.'

He decides not to answer the second question. For now.

He puts his phone back on the mount and his car in drive, pretending like he didn't flinch at the sound of the bluetooth connecting.

His phone dings again, and he cant answer, but he does peak at the message.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : well i wou .. geral ... mad ... ignoring me ...'

That was all he could see for now. Quit frankly, that was all he needed to see.

Did Geralt ignore Dandelion whenever he was mad?

My brain was shut off upon hearing the first Hollywood Undead song start.

~~~~~

When I arrived home, I was bombarded with questions. Eskel was that type of man.

"How was your day at work?" He said from the kitchen, where Lambert was trying to sneak on by.

"Long." Lambert said. "Henry wasnt there."

His boss. Whenever Henry was gone, Lambert had to pick up all the shit- as an assistant store manager.

"Didnt have to fix anything today though, right?" Eskel said.

What a fake fucking bitch, Lambert thought.

"So... do you want me to fix you something to eat?"

He heard it, but didnt register it.

Being the odd one out was quite the funny thing. He lost his best, childhood friend of 14 years in his sophomore year of college to suicide.

He drops out of said college. Decides to start therapy; ends up getting sent to a psych ward.

And now hes working at some shitty fucking retail job; and still working at his adoptive fathers farm.

Yeah, life was fucking great. A ball of fucking sunshine.

Eskel was a doctor. Geralt was a successful Butcher, working under their adoptive father.

And he was a depressed man with a shitty retail job.

"Hello? Lambert?"

Without thinking, Lambert grabs the nearest item which just so happened to be a decorative vase, squeezing it tightly...

"How are things since you ended it with Kiera?"

and throws it.

Right at Eskel.

He's rather lucky it misses. Shatters all over the ground instead of on Eskel's mass.

"You're fake. Did you know that? You're a liar. You're a fraud. Stop with the fake fucking persona that you care about me."

And with that, he has no choice to storm away.

~~~~~

In his room, hes able to check his phone again. The text from Dandelion was sitting there, menacingly.

'lambert : does geralt always ignore u when hes mad at u?'

With how busy Dandelion was, you werent expecting an immediate response.

But you get one.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : typixally he tellsme to fuck off and rhats how i know hes mas at me'

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : u should go :( ive never seen u there, i know u dont like me'

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : but i got a few tricks up my sleeve to convince u too ;)'

It takes Lambert a bit to decipher Dandelions absolutely awful typing. For a man with an english degree, he is sure as hell bad at English.

Lambert kept reading the, 'i know u dont like me.'

Who the fuck told Dandelion that? Because Lambert has never, not once, discussed any sort of dislike for Dandelion.

If anything, Lambert actively defends his name. He remembers all the times Geralt spoke about ignoring Dandelion, called Dandelion annoying.

Lambert would always stick up for him.

Were there any good reasons why? He had a bunch, personally.

One, and the biggest reason, was that Lambert would kill in cold blood to be able to talk to his best friend again.

Two, is that Dandelion was a good person with good morals. And incredible talent. Dandelion deserved love and praise, not hate from his closest friend.

Three, he was oddly drawn to Dandelion. He didn't know why.

Did he over exaggerate? Yes. But something inside of him just.. felt weird when Dandelion was shamed upon. Geralt wasn't that bad of a dude, especially to Dandelion.

But it's common decency not to talk shit about your best friend when the person you're talking to lost theirs to suicide.

Kind of inconsiderate, Geralt.

'lambert : lol who told you that? i like you'

He suspects it was Triss. Maybe Yennefer had assumed? Lambert didnt really like anyone, it was a safe assumption. But Geralt knew- knew Lambert actually at least tolerated Dandelions presence.

He even told Geralt that he wanted to be Dandelion's friend. That Dandelion reminded him of Aiden. He opened up to Geralt, surely his own family wouldn't do him dirty like that?

Dandelion didnt answer, and Lambert didnt know why, but it disapointed him.

'lambert : i gotta know what those tricks are though, care if i ask for a little more convincing? ;)'

Lambert was going to shit his pants.

First, he double texts. Which is fine, because Dandelion like... quadruple texts. But then he had to hit on the man.

It was playful, right? It wasn't gay. Playful. A game.

Why was his heart racing again?

He was straight anyway.

~~~~~~

Eskel was full of concern at the dinner table when Lambert didnt show up. There sat Geralt and Vesemir, but Lamberts seat was eerily just.. empty.

"Lambert skipped his farm work today," Vesemir said, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes, before grabbing salt and shaking what seemed to be half the bottle in it. Taking another bite, he seemed satisfied.

"He didnt respond to my texts at all. Read every single one, too." Eskel said. "And he..."

Eskel did not want to throw Lambert under the bus. Not when it seemed something was seriously wrong.

"I had to pick up his fucking slack," Geralt said. "Seriously, this kid needs to grow up. We all work in jobs we don't like. I don't like slaughtering pigs and looking at blood, and I'm sure that Eskel doesn't like performing surgery. But we aren't babies about it."

Geralt was chewing into his food like a rabid animal, clearly angry. The steak that was on his plate was massacred, cut up and stabbed.

The walls at Kaer Morhen were pretty thin. The farm itself was nice, but the house wasn't in the perfect condition. It was pretty, but old, some of the rooms half-finished.

Therefore none of the men were surprised or so much as even flinched when Lambert yelled, seemingly speaking to his T.V screen and taking his anger out on Overwatch.

90% of Lambert's free time was spent on video games. It used to be with his girlfriend, Kiera, but she slowly started avoiding him.

He hardly noticed the change. It was gradual; slow, but eventually he caught on. She wasn't the same.

For his own sake, he left her. He will admit, he loved her, but it wasn't hard. She messaged him once every few days.

"He broke up with Kiera, Geralt." Eskel says. "And now hes having a rough time. Maybe we should cut him some slack."

"Don't really care. Shouldn't of been as toxic as he was." Geralt said.

"We should try to understand Lambert. He comes before a girl, Geralt. Put those events with her aside, it's clearly driving a wedge between the three of you."

They could hear Lambert; which means Lambert could hear them.

Toxic? That was funny. He devoted everything to that girl. She ran a small business he would fund- which typically took his full paycheck from Vesemir. Other than that, she didn't really work. He paid for everything.

Toxic was funny.

"Lambert was too much stress on her. Shes a girlfriend, not a therapist. Girls don't like emotional guys, I cant help that." Geralt says, sharply and angrily.

"Lambert hardly talks about emotions." Eskel corrects.

"Sure as hell corrects me all the damn time about them. Sick of him calling me ungrateful and shit. I cant control his losses." Geralt said, with a tone that ended the conversation there.

~~~~~~

Toxic was funny. Really, really funny. Was it toxic to correct your brother on his own toxic behavior?

Lambert didn't understand.

Geralt. A man who ran everything in his life with his dick, not his brain. Who cheated on women, who verbally abused his friends. Who ignores his so called "best friend" because he's mad.

Thats actually not really that bad, but whatever. Lambert was mad, and petty, and wondering why Dandelion hadn't answered him.

Why was he thinking of that? Not okay, Lambert. He's busy. Probably recording music and getting yelled at by his directors.

Toxic was funny, when Lambert was so loyal. When Lambert tried his best to fit in, he just genuinely never did.

Toxic was so, so funny.

His mind ran off, to a different place, one where theres grass and tulips and roses and fuck- Dandelions.

Dandelion.

Would Dandelion prioritize Lambert over Geralt? Sure, they'd talk. But when he's mad at Geralt. When Geralt's not around. He would be a rebound for a best friend.

Just like he was to Kiera.

He had just won a match when his phone dinged and lit up three times.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : hi ! sorry had to finish up recording a song for my album. stupid director :(

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : oh but id lovee to convince you. maybe we can get a lil tipsy and ill go home with you, yeah handsome? ;)'

Lambert was kicking his feet, giggling, and squealing like a high school girl. Well, his face was stoic, but mentally he was there. Mentally he was going insane.

He had never been hit on deliberately like that. Like stated before, he was the odd one out. With Geralt and Eskel his brothers, he was known as the ugly one of the family.

He was surprised when Kiera wanted him. Him, out of the three. He had made the move, god forbid a woman make a move on him. But she still accepted- still chose him.

She used to fuck with Geralt a couple years back, back when Geralt and Yennefer would cheat on each other. He always had girls left and right. Kiera, Yennefer, Triss, and boy, did he have a shit ton of one night stands.

He wasn't surprised when Kiera got distant. It hurt at first, but he realized one thing- thats life. She lost interest.

When people normally got to know him, they would see Geralt and run. They'd lose interest in him, all of the sudden. But Geralt would never take them from him though, he wasn't that bad a person.

And he wasn't a bad person either. But Geralt's best friend currently hitting on him? It shouldn't make him feel giddy inside. It shouldn't make him so happy that it felt like someone had chosen him over Geralt.

He couldn't help but smile.

But it was playful. It was all playful.

He couldn't help but feel his smile drop, as he went to read the last message from Dandelion. His face contorted in anger; wanting to lash out all over again.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : it was geralt. glad to see youve changed ur mind tho! <3'

#geralt x dandelion #dandelion #lambert witcher #lambert #lambert x aiden #aiden witcher #witcher eskel #eskel #vesemir #triss merigold #yennefer of vengerberg #lambert x dandelion #lambskier #jaskier/dandelion #geralt x jaskier #jaskier

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