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wherethewordsare · 4 years ago

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I’ll Stay with You

Hey everyone, a little up front, this is a major character death fic and nearly 4k long. Be advised. Content warnings include: Bloody and Injury, Fatal Injury, Major Character Death, and Implied misuse of potions. Please be advised before reading! Thank you!

There had been no warning. Only the sound of a sword being drawn above him woke Jaskier from an already fitful sleep. He just managed to roll out of the way, Geralt’s name already on his lips.

A firm arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him down to the ground as a volley of arrows whizzed overhead, close enough to ruffle his hair. His heart hammered as they stood, each taking defensive positions.

It hadn’t been the first platoon Nilfgaard had sent for his witcher and it wouldn’t be the last, but Jaskier would die on his feet before he let anything happen to Geralt. His own short sword connected with flesh and he yanked it back again before swinging for the next soldier. His form had gotten better and he had learned to fight, not just slash and hack under Geralt’s tutelage.

He wasn’t a witcher though. He wasn’t able to hear the notch of a bow and the release of an arrow as it flew through the throng and buried itself into his thigh.

Jaskier cried out but kept his feet. He still fought though he was growing faint and the hot wetness that was soaking the outside of his trousers was too much too fast. They needed to get away.

“Geralt!” He yelled and the witcher was there, his arm wrapped tightly around Jaskier’s middle, pulling him close.

“Hold on,” Geralt breathed against his shoulder. Magic vibrated in the air around them as Geralt let loose an aard, sending soldiers flying back from them and then another wave of magic as Jaskier broke the talisman around his neck.

A one way portal dropped them into another clearing miles north of where they had been. Jaskier fell to the ground, gasping as his fingers fumbled for the arrow that was still buried in his leg.

“Geralt, fuck, help.” He shook as he looked down. There was far too much blood. Even Geralt seemed to go pale as he looked down at the damage. Most of their packs were back where they had been ambushed. The only thing left to them was what Geralt had grabbed, Jaskier’s own pack with only his notebook, a spare shirt, and a salve for minor cuts.

“Hold on, Jaskier, hold on.” Geralt moved quickly, making quick work of the spare shirt, tearing it into strips and tying above the wound. “Here, take my hand,” he whispered, his voice gentle, his eyes wide with fear.

“Geralt- Geralt, dear heart. Listen…” Jaskier swallows and takes Geralt’s hands, lacing their fingers and squeezing as tightly as he can. “If I don’t make it, if you have to go on-”

Before he could finish his thought, Geralt pulled the arrow from his leg in one smooth motion. Jaskier screamed through clenched teeth, his body shaking from it. Geralt was quick to bandage him up, all the while murmuring softly to Jaskier.

“There’s an oversized bed with your name on it at the keep, you just have to stay with me,” Geralt said, his eyes never leaving the wound.

Jaskier took back Geralt’s hand after it was done with the bandages and squeezed it again, this time barely having the strength to press down into that firm palm.

“Always, dear heart, always going to stay with you.” He licked his lips and gave a wet laugh. It was now or never or he was going to go to his very early grave regretting it.

“I know where we are. This is the tail end of the path into the Blue Mountains. We’re so close I can smell Eskel’s goats.” Geralt was worried. He only talked like this with sick children and shriveled old women he couldn’t save.

Jaskier only swallowed and nodded. They set camp that night and in the morning began the long and painful trek into the mountains.

Three days. They had been on the move for three days. Every hour, Jaskier could feel his strength leaving him and every hour he tried to make Geralt face him, to hear the words he needed to say before…

Jaskier sat against a cave wall, shivering as sweat soaked through his shirt. His leg had been itching like mad since he had woken up and he feared that there had been more to that arrow than just steel. He wondered if Geralt had smelled it on him, if that was what was causing the Witcher to climb as quickly as they could into the mountains, to where there might be safety.

He looked across the small fire where Geralt cooked two winter-thin hares. He looked haggard with the closest thing Jaskier had ever seen to true fear on his witcher.

“Geralt?” He croaked, his voice cracking.

“Hmm?” Geralt didn’t even look up, seeming to instead find anything else to look at than Jaskier’s fading body.

Jaskier gave a sad smile and weakly patted the bedroll next to him. “It’s going to be cold tonight. Why don’t we have those for breakfast and you come get some sleep?”

Geralt looked up at him then, his face drawn into something he couldn’t interpret but took the rabbits off the flames and nodded.

He crossed the small space and slipped in next to Jaskier, pulling him gently down until they were tucked in the bedroll, his arms winding around the bard with barely a word. He felt rigid and unsure under Jaskier’s hands as he shifted, careful of the wounded leg.

Jaskier pressed in close to Geralt’s chest and timed his breathing to the sound of the witcher’s heartbeat under his ear. Geralt, for his part, wrapped his arms around Jaskier and held him close, burying his nose into his hair. He thought with a faint chuckle that he must have reeked but Geralt didn’t seem to mind, only pressing in closer.

Sleep came for Jaskier sooner than he thought it would. He did not dream, nor did he really notice the pain. All he could feel as he drifted off were warm, though chapped, lips pressing to his forehead and words he couldn’t quite catch.

They sounded like “Stay with me”.

When morning came, Jaskier couldn’t explain what he was doing standing near the entrance of the cave, looking in where Geralt was still huddled with his back to him. His head felt foggy like he couldn’t quite remember what it was he was doing.

“Jaskier?” Geralt called suddenly, “Jaskier!”

“I’m right here,” Jaskier took a step towards Geralt and found that his legs felt sound under him.

“Jaskier…” Geralt sat up, leaning over something in front of him, his shoulders shaking. “No, no no, you fucking idiot, no. Not like this, Jask, please.” There was panic in Geralt’s voice and he was on his knees leaning down.

Jaskier stood frozen behind him as he watched over Geralt’s shoulder, where he, Jaskier, lay, pale and blue-lipped.

Geralt leaned down, trying to breathe life into his body, Jaskier's name a chant on his lips between every curse and promise he could make. Jaskier touched his own lips as they seemed to tingle for a moment but then the feeling was gone.

Geralt only pressed against his chest a few times but seemed to quickly give up before gathering Jaskier into his arms, his nose pressing back into his hair.

“Jaskier, no. I’m sorry, I’m so… I…” There was a choking sound echoing in the cave and Jaskier realized it was broken sobs as Geralt only held his lifeless body closer.

“Geralt, dear heart, I’m still- You don’t have to be sorry, Geralt. You’re safe, that’s all I could ask for.” Jaskier came around the other side and dropped to his knees, his hands reaching out for Geralt as he sat there, rocking back and forth on the frozen stone floor. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. We weren’t supposed to end like this.” He wanted to scream.

“You were supposed to stay, Jask. You were supposed to stay with me.”

“Always,” Jaskier promised, “I’m always going to be here. I’m not going anywhere, Geralt. I love you, I’ll stay.”

Geralt laid his body down gently, bringing the bedroll they shared over Jaskier’s face. “I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I got you killed.” He looked away, swallowing, tears streaking down his face as his eyes slid right over where Jaskier’s ghost knelt in front of him. “I love you. I’m sorry I never told you.”

Jaskier was sure if he still had a heartbeat, it would have skipped right before he shattered into a million pieces. There was nothing left for him to do but to keep his promise. He followed Geralt from that cave, watching as Geralt cast an aard that closed the entrance, burying Jaskier inside, his face completely void of any emotion as he did so.

The rest of the journey to Kaer Morhen was quiet, Geralt barely stopping to eat or sleep until he had finally reached the keep. Jaskier trailed behind him in the halls, catching the looks that Geralt missed from his brothers, from Vesemir, from Yennefer when she showed up with Ciri not three days later.

He followed his witcher into his rooms and watched as he drank himself into a stupor that still couldn’t bring him sleep.

“You don’t have to do this to yourself, Geralt. I’d die for you a thousand times if it kept you safe,” Jaskier whispered. He couldn’t brush back the silver hairs that fell into Geralt’s face as he slumped over his writing desk.

He looked down at the book that was open and recognized it as his journal. He was sure he’d blush if he could. It was a page towards the back that Geralt had opened to, where Jaskier had done a rough sketch of Geralt grooming Roach. It hadn’t been his best work, but he kept it with him anyways.

“Oh, you were never meant to see that,” he winced, sliding up onto the desk beside Geralt’s outstretched arm. He reached down as if to grab his hand and sighed when his fingers only managed to slide through it without so much as a twitch.

“Should have protected you, should have saved you. Always losing you,” Geralt slurred, his eyes closed. “Always losing the ones I should have protected.”

“Oh, dear heart,” Jaskier leaned his elbow onto his knee, wiping a hand over his face. He wondered how long he would be like this, not that he was complaining. He had promised. He was still going to follow his witcher.

The years slipped past them, Geralt witchering, Jaskier following. The only difference seemed to be that Geralt had finally found it in himself to start talking to Jaskier, only when Jaskier couldn’t respond.

That first season out, Geralt found a contract on a notice board.

“Looks like a cockatrice, Jask,” he murmured quietly, reading over the paper. “They’ll swindle me for sure, always with fucking cocatrices.” He gave a small smile looking up. “You know, the only time they didn’t was when you’d come flying at the alderman like a cockatrice yourself, all color and spit and barbs.”

“You always stopped me though.” Jaskier leaned against the board, his head resting on the worn wood as he watched Geralt fondly. “I worry you’ll never see a proper payment again unless you find another bard.” The idea twisted something where his chest used to be. Geralt travelling with anyone else always seemed to do that, even before his untimely demise. “But at least now I can follow you into battles without you having to worry about me getting hurt, eh?”

Jaskier followed Geralt like he always had, trailing behind him as he met with the alderman, to his room at the inn, watching as he checked over his potions.

“Come back in one piece.” Jaskier winced at the old habit that hadn’t seemed to die with him.

“Stay out of trouble while I’m-” Geralt turned and frowned at the empty room. “Right then.” He only growled and slung his swords over his back before stalking back out of the room.

They had stopped on the edge of a ravine and Geralt looked down the craggy face, scowling. He downed his potions without a second thought and began the climb down.

And then-

Jaskier was suddenly back in the room at the inn, Geralt with his back to him, grunting as he curled in on himself.

“What the fuck just happened?” Jaskier asked. He came around the other side of Geralt. There was a nasty cut along his arm but it wasn’t anything Geralt couldn’t handle, he knew.

“Bollocks! Really!? Finally, a way to follow you into battle and, what? I can’t? Why?” Jaskier threw his arms in the air in frustration.

Geralt made a low sound, the needle shaking in his hand as he stitched his arm. His eyes kept flicking up to his potions, lined across the low table. Jaskier looked him over, watching the last of the toxicity fade from his veins.

“You know, I keep asking why am I here, but I’m starting to wonder.” Jaskier tried to run his hands through the muck that still clung to Geralt’s hair, sighing as his fingers simply faded through him. “Am I here because you’ve chosen to let me haunt you?” He clucked his tongue. “Foolish witcher, let me go. You don’t need to punish yourself.”

“Hmm.” Geralt stood, crossing to the basin to wash away the remaining blood on his arm and hands.

Jaskier climbed into the bed and waited for Geralt to take his usual position beside him. He sang quietly as his witcher drifted off into his usual restless sleep, Jaskier’s name never far from his lips.

And so it went for several seasons, Geralt fighting battles Jaskier could not witness, only able to linger beside him when the nights grew quiet and Geralt would try to drown himself in women and liquor and the desperate pace of travel.

After one fight, Jaskier returned to find Geralt hunched over his potions, muttering to himself as he pulled one from the bag with surprisingly shaky hands.

“What are you doing? Did you not kill the beast?” Jaskier was kneeling in front of him, unable to reach out, unable to be heard. He looked between the bottle and Geralt’s face and frowned.

“I see,” he whispered softly.

It had been a long time at this point and Jaskier was realizing that the only time he was not with Geralt was when Geralt didn’t think of him, so far only when he gave himself over completely to his witcher senses and instinct.

“Does thinking of me hurt you so deeply, Geralt?” If he were able to cry he would. Instead all he could do was look on as Geralt slowly uncorked the bottle. “I do not blame you for wanting to outrun your ghosts, but please. Not like this.”

Geralt brought the bottle to his lips and for a moment it felt like his eyes had flicked to Jaskier’s, wide and wounded. He pulled the bottle away, corking it and shoving it back into his bag.

“You’d think me a coward, I know.” Geralt pulled out his flask instead, taking a hard pull of the White Gull he kept with him constantly now.

“Still the bravest man I know.” Jaskier smiled sadly.

As years went on, Jaskier noticed he was starting to lose time. Slowly there would be a day missing where he started with Geralt in one place and ended up somewhere else completely. Usually when he would appear again, Geralt was already settling into a room or brushing down Roach, idle things that let the witcher’s thoughts wander.

“Would you have written new songs by now? You’d be what, sixty?” Geralt hummed. “You’d hate old age, vain as you are- were.”

“Oh, back to this are we? Haven’t been insulted in a while. Though kind of you to say sixty. I think we’re coming up on eighty easily, dear heart.” Jaskier murmured fondly, leaning against the stall to watch Geralt work.

The time between these moments was clearly growing. Every time he saw Geralt he looked more worn, more weary. New scars were cropping up between his visits. He especially hated when he came back to find Geralt sewing himself back together after a particularly bad fight or when he was being chased out of various towns.

It felt like that was when he thought of Jaskier the most, when there was no one there to defend him. No one to care for him. He showed in the moments Geralt felt most alone in the spaces Jaskier used to fill. His gaunt face still holding the same disappointed scowl it always did when villages turned on him. Jaskier knew it made Geralt feel like a monster. It filled him with a rage so powerful, it nearly vibrated the medallion on Geralt’s chest.

“You’re not, Geralt. I know you’re not! I wish you listened to me then or could hear me now.” Jaskier pleaded, pacing in front of the witcher, his arms thrown wide. “You’re still a hero.” He would have wet his lip the way he used to if he could feel it. “Still my hero, witcher.”

“Maybe they’re right. I just bring death wherever I go.” Geralt murmured as he set up camp.

Jaskier felt himself slowly fade, flickering as Geralt knelt for meditation, every breath blurring his vision until the void took him again.

It was dawn or maybe dusk, but all Jaskier knew was that it had been a long time since Geralt last thought of him. There were too many scars along his wiry arms where his sleeves were pushed up, his feet dangling into the water of a stream. He sat on the edge of a rock, his head in his hands.

Jaskier went to say something and found that he couldn’t, his mouth opening and closing but no sound came forward.

“A hundred years,” Geralt swallowed. “A hundred years and I’ve forgotten the sound of your voice.” He sounded wounded, his voice cracking with sorrow and age. “I’d give every single one of them back if I could just… remember.” He pressed his palms over his eyes and shook. “The world keeps changing, and you’re still gone and I’m still here.”

Jaskier dropped to his knees beside Geralt, his hands reaching out to touch the man that would not let him go.

It was his hands that caught his attention. They were barely shadows at the ends of his arms. Jaskier looked down in silent panic as he realized he was fading. Geralt was forgetting him. A mixture of relief and agony tore through him. All he wanted to do was scream but all he could do was sit there in silent horror as he watched Geralt fall to pieces.

Rest, witcher. He thought, swallowing down the silent tears he was no longer able to shed. Rest, my love, your path is almost at its end. Do you know all the good you’ve done?

Geralt took a steadying breath, looking up and out over the river, his once brilliant yellow eyes dulling around the pupils.

I’ll stay, Geralt. I promise. As long as you’ll have me, I’m going to stay. Jaskier silently promised. He leaned forward as though to press his forehead to Geralt’s shoulder. He could have sobbed when the world tilted and he simply passed through him, unable to even comfort him from the other side.

Beside him Geralt took another breath before pulling his feet from the stream. He turned and gathered his swords and once more, there was nothing.

Time had lost meaning. There had only been brief fleeting moments where Geralt seemed to remember his bard, unable to perceive the ghost that followed him still. Jaskier’s own memory was starting to grow fuzzy. Why was he here? Why did he want to protect this man sitting alone by the fire? Where was his voice?

He remembered having a lute and a book of songs and an amazing adventure filled with heroics and heartbreak, with destiny and death. He could remember the taste of wine and the smell of sea salt and the feel of a calloused hand cupping his cheek as he laid in a cave decades upon decades ago.

Jaskier stood in the door of a dusty stone room, the window overlooking a mountain range he could not name.

“Toss a coin to your witcher,” came a voice, cracked and ancient and so very very tired.

Jaskier followed the voice to a pile of deteriorating furs. He knew that face, scarred and weathered as it was. He knew that song. Something in him flared as he reached out with almost solid fingers.

“Geralt?” He whispered.

The pile rose with a shaky breath and then the man, the witcher, his witcher, drew no more breath.

“Oh dear heart, you took so long.” Jaskier chuckled sadly. “I’m so glad you thought of me. I’d never be able to live with myself if you died alone.”

“Can’t live with yourself anyways,” came a rumbling voice from behind him.

Jaskier whipped around and gasped. Geralt stood only a few strides away. His body whole again, the scars faded to fine silver lines, like threads of moonlight caught under his skin. Around him was a warm glow and it called Jaskier home like a beacon.

“Geralt!” Jaskier stood frozen on the spot.

“You stayed.” Geralt hummed, taking a small step forward.

“You asked me to. Besides, what was I going to do, let you go on without me?” Jaskier laughed, his arms itching to reach out, to see if he could just…

“Stubborn,” Geralt growled but there was no heat to it as he stalked closer.

“Yes you are, dear heart. Come here.”

“Two hundred years, Jaskier.” Geralt took another step, his chest seeming to heave.

“You took so much longer than I thought you would.” Jaskier shot back but he was grinning.

“Jaskier.” It was the same old warning bite that Geralt used when he was treading on thin ice.

“Hello.” He was beaming. The room around them had been dim when he appeared but now it seemed to glow.

“Hard-headed.” Geralt surged forward, his arms wrapping solidly around Jaskier, lifting him easily as he buried his face into Jaskier’s neck.

“Are you going to kiss me, witcher or just keep throwing-”

He was cut off when Geralt pulled back just far enough to crush their mouths together, warm and perfect and bright as the sun.

“Absolute bastard.” Geralt smiled as he pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth.

Jaskier laughed, throwing his arms around Geralt’s neck. “I’ve missed you too.” He felt tears, actual tears slide down his cheeks as he clung to Geralt. The room around them seemed to vibrate as they clung to one another, filling with a warm light once more before falling forever dark again, the wind whipping through where they once stood.

They say deep in the Blue Mountains, if you are brave enough, there is a keep that once belonged to the witchers of old. For many years, they said it was haunted by the ghosts of all the ones the witchers had lost.

They say Jaskier had stayed. He had stayed and waited, doing in death what he had done in life; following his witcher. That only when his witcher followed was he able to finally leave, hand in hand.

But that is only if the stories are to be believed. The ghosts of the witchers have long since departed, only staying as long as they were needed.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cw: blood and injury #cw: fatal injury #ghost jaskier #lonely geralt #cw: main character serious injury #cw: violence #cw: blood #life of a witcher #geralt feels guilty #promises kept #sad geralt #bittersweet ending

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king-finnigan · 4 years ago

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7. “Is that blood?” “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “You are literally bleeding.” + 42 “Darling I love you and all, but please step out fo the kitchen.” ❤️❤️❤️❤️🐟 ahdjdjsgdk sorry

Ah shit i forgot the ship sorry! Jaskel cus im a huge eskel slut

A/N: what a mood. I, too, am an eskel slut

Eskel comes home to loud music coming from the kitchen, the clattering of pots and utensils barely audible beneath all the noise.

He frowns as he shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack and depositing his laptop bag against the wall. Next is the tie, his fingers plucking the knot loose as he makes his way deeper into the apartment, the noises growing ever louder the closer he gets to the kitchen.

He tosses the tie on the couch, undoing the first button of his shirt to let himself breathe and rolling up his sleeves when he notices something on the floor, right in front of the doorway that leads to the kitchen.

He steps closer to look at it and discovers that it’s flour. Huh.

He smiles and shakes his head, carefully stepping around the powder before making his way into the kitchen. There, he finds his boyfriend at the counter, more flour in his hair and on his back somehow, elbow-deep in some sort of batter that looks like it belongs in a biohazardous waste disposal.

“Why is it green?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and Jaskier looks up, blue eyes sparkling at the sight of him.

His boyfriend quickly turns the music off, the silence in the kitchen suddenly deafening, but Eskel’s barely notices it. All he has eyes for is the small trickle of blood that’s run down the side of Jaskier’s head, concern rising in his chest as he crosses the distance between them in two long strides.

“Is that blood?”

Jaskier bounces on his feet impatiently as Eskel cradles his head in his palms, turning his face this way and that to look at the wound. “Yes, but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-”

“You’re literally bleeding.”

Jaskier scoffs. “Pish-posh. It’s already healed.”

Eskel sags in relief when he realizes that Jaskier’s right, the wound’s already closed up, the blood trail long dried. He shakes his head, looking up at the mess that used to be their kitchen. There’s bits of green dough on the walls and ceiling - somehow - and flour on the floor, a long line visible in the powder that immediately tells him that that’s where Jaskier slipped and fell, probably hitting his head and causing the wound in the process. There are several dirty utensils on the countertop, a cabinet door ripped off its hinges, a bent spoon hanging from the handle of the dishwasher and... half a carrot on the windowsill?

All in all, it’s an absolute mess.

“What were you even trying to make?” he asks, slightly flabberghasted.

Jaskier bounces on his feet again, a grin spreading across his face. “A cake! For our one-year anniversary next week!”

He sighs, though he can’t help the soft smile that tugs at his lips, can’t help but press a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s pout. He cradles his boyfriend’s face in his hands, thumbs catching on flour and dried blood when he runs them over his skin.

“Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen. Go take a shower or something- there’s flour in your hair.”

Jaskier’s grin grows sultry, eyes shining like the morning sun. “Will you be joining me?”

Eskel sighs again as he looks around the kitchen. “No, I think I’ll be busy for the next couple of hours.”

(send me prompts from this list so I can practice writing rarepairs!)

#also don't worry about combining prompts! it was very fun to write this #audience with the king #king writes #jaskel #fish #yes the first half of this thing is just an excuse to write about eskel taking off his tie and rolling up his sleeves #what of it #drabble #Anonymous

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eskel-loves-lilbleater · 3 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Fluff, Humor, Polyamory, Winter at Kaer Morhen (The Witcher), Kaer Morhen's Fanon Hot Springs (The Witcher), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, for real, this is just an excuse to give eskel the love he deserves, no beta we die like renfri Summary:

Jaskier is given a mission.

He's never been so happy to comply.

Contains frankly disgusting levels of sweetness, some banter, and a perfectly reasonable amount of titty worship. Read at your own risks.

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Fic Rec: The “warning” about disgusting levels fo sweetness is all too accurate. So sweet and prefect, Eskel being looked after so nicely. I am all for him getting all the love!

Writer: @maya-the-yellow-bee on Tumblr :)

#eskel #eskel fanfic #eskel witcher #witcher eskel #witcher #the witcher #jaskel #eskel x jaskier #jaskier #jaskier witcher #AO3 #fic rec

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marbienl13 · 3 years ago

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***The dragon has struck*** Good thing those beacons are meant to light up! Lambert’s so proud, it only took Eskel one little absentminded flick fo his fingers. Uhm - he totally meant to do it. Yup! :3

#the witcher #render #sbui #eskel #lambert #troublemakers #the beacons are lit

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eredins-a-king-aint-he · 3 years ago

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Fo the witcher asks, game 2,5,6 and general 5,6,7

Replying under the cut so I don’t clog up anyone’s dash~

Game:

2. Which game character do you vibe with most?

Probably Eskel? Like he’s calm and down to earth and funny and I would probably enjoy just hanging out with him, just chillin and having a beer or something

5. What is your favorite Gwent deck?

I like the Monster deck, though I don’t play much (I’m terrible at card games lmao)

6. What is your favorite Gwent card?

Gaunter O’Dimm, of course 😈🖤

General:

5. What witcher school do you think you would be from?

Ooh this is a fun question!! Probably Bear? I’m kinda short and stocky and built for long distance movement, happier to build for defense, etc. I would be a tiny witcher tho, no one would take me seriously cause I’m 5’2 rip

6. Which character do you see yourself in and pretend you don't?

Hmmmmm probably Lambert. I love him as a character but he’s very gripey and angry and bitter and so am I but I don’t necessarily like to be reminded of that😆

7. Which character would you want to be like?

Ooh hard one🤔 Honestly, I’d love to be like… more crafty/clever but not act like it? So like either Dijkstra or Letho, both of whom are smart as fuck and super crafty in their own ways but don’t really betray that about themselves if they can help it, because acting unthreatening/stupid benefits them

Idk being craftier would be nice, it would probably help my writing😂

#thank you for the ask!! I love these #cedar answers #asks #ask game

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wordsablaze · 4 years ago

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7~ i’m awake but still sleeping

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: it’s been a while bc i misplaced my motiviation (and forgot to crosspost) but heyyy...

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @blueboobutterfly @havenoffandoms @lasaga666

previous chapter

Jaskier almost falls asleep on the way back.

Eskel feels it several times, feels the way his breathing evens out for a moment or so before he softly nods himself awake again. He doesn’t know why Jaskier doesn’t want to fall asleep but he’s not about to interfere so the two of them stay practically silent as they return to town.

Once they reach the stables, Eskel clears his throat. “Jaskier?”

Unfortunately, Jaskier had apparently just started to doze off again and starts so badly he overbalances and topples off the horse, landing with a harsh thud.

“Oww,” he moans, snapping Eskel out of his guilt.

Within seconds, he swings himself off Scorpion and offers Jaskier a hand, which is actually rather unhelpful because Jaskier has his eyes closed. Shuffling back a little, he clears his throat again. “Are you planning on getting up any time soon?”

Jaskier laughs weakly as he looks up at Eskel. “Can’t I just stay here for today?”

Eskel frowns, glancing over him. “You’re going to freeze out here.”

“I wasn’t being serious, darling,” Jaskier giggles, pushing himself up into a sitting position and crossing his legs, “but it’s good to know you’re capable of taking me seriously.”

He’s not entirely sure what that’s meant to mean so Eskel just offers Jaskier a smile and holds his hand out again. “Come on, let’s go.”

This time, Jaskier takes it, wobbling himself upright and taking a second to regain his balance before letting go of Eskel’s hand as if it were burning him. But Eskel pointedly ignores the strange sadness that flickers through his heart at that thought because it’s illogical to assume Jaskier would want to hold his hand anyway.

“Aren’t you going to secure Scorpion?” Jaskier asks, raising an eyebrow.

Eskel chuckles. “You don’t need to tell me what my job is, bardling,” he says before doing exactly as Jaskier had prompted, deciding that he can come back for their bags once they’ve had lunch.

He guesses that Jaskier feels the same about prioritising food because he doesn’t say anything until they get to the inn, at which point he straightens up a little and smiles. “Could we request a bath, lovely?”

The woman in place of the innkeeper raises an eyebrow at them, probably because they’re still soaking, but nods. “I’ll get someone to bring one up. Don’t get my bed wet.”

Jaskier nods seriously. ��Of course not, we would never even dream of it,” he promises, leaving both the woman and Eskel to wonder what sort of dream that would be.

Either way, Eskel follows Jaskier up, both of them all but stumbling into their room. Jaskier makes a beeline towards the bed before groaning and changing his mind to sliding down along one of the walls, settling on the floor with his legs outstretched.

Eskel frowns at him, yet again wondering if there’s an injury he should know about. “You okay, Jaskier?”

Jaskier looks up at him with a strange expression. “Aside from the almost drowning?”

Eskel snorts. “Aside from that.”

There’s a small pause before Jaskier nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just, uh, thinking of what rhymes with ‘drowning’, and actually I might use ‘frowning’ since you’ve been doing a lot of that,” he teases.

As if proving Jaskier’s point, Eskel frowns at his words.

Which Jaskier picks up on immediately, giggling softly. “See, there you go again. Keep at it and I might have to sing about the frowning witcher’s adventures. Just a warning, though, metaphors about facial expressions are pretty challenging to get right and you’d be subject to amateurs saying things like-”

“I really don’t want to know,” Eskel interrupts, dreading to think about it.

Jaskier winks mischievously before going quiet.

As he does, an awful, bitter scent of something dark and decaying fills the room. Alarmed, Eskel makes to ask Jaskier if he’s upset about anything, but said bard grins before he can, springing gracefully to his feet. “Here, let me help with your armour.”

Eskel steps back instinctively and Jaskier falters, his smile fading. “Or I could not help you with your armour, of course. That’s always an option and I will very easily take it, no harm done. I… uh, sorry. I’m going to go… check on the bath.”

“Wait-” Eskel starts, but the door is already closing behind Jaskier, the dark scent fading along with his presence. So he just sighs and, albeit reluctantly, gets himself out of his armour, placing it in one corner as he waits for Jaskier to return.

It’s strange, he thinks, how quickly he’s taken to finding empty silence unsettling. He’s never been fond of pointless noise but a distinct lack of Jaskier makes him question how much he actually likes the silence as an alternative.

And he’s not sure exactly how long he spends questioning that but eventually, Jaskier’s voice drifts into their rooms as he re-enters, followed by two women who place a steaming bath down on one side before leaving, exchanging the softest of whispers with Jaskier before they do.

Jaskier’s smile falters again as he sees the pile of armour but he brings it back before Eskel can ask anything, gesturing to the bath. “Well, go on, darling. The water won’t stay warm forever.”

“Don’t you want to go first?” Eskel asks quietly.

But Jaskier shakes his head. “No, no. I’d burn, and a burnt bard is no good at all. The water is perfect for you so you need to go first.”

“But-”

“And of course, I need to wash that lovely hair of yours!” Jaskier interrupts, then bites his lip. Eskel resists the urge to ask anything and waits until Jaskier exhales softly. “That is, uh, if you still want me to do so again?”

If only Eskel were a bard so he could explain how much he truly wants that. But he’s not so he just nods, and thankfully Jaskier gets the message anyway.

Somehow, Jaskier’s fingers moving through his hair feel even better than last time. It’s barely past midday but Eskel could fall asleep right in the bath, that’s how soothing it is to have Jaskier take care of his hair, take care of him.

“Eskel?” he hears Jaskier whisper, promptly realising that he had actually almost fallen asleep. Again .

Slightly mortified, he clears his throat and sits upright. “Thank you.”

Jaskier makes a face. “For what?”

“For uh, for letting me use the bath first.”

But Jaskier just squints at him as if he’s being stupid. “You’re the witcher. You killed the siren. Of course you get the bath first.”

Guilt-ridden realisation pools in Eskel’s stomach.

“Wait, what?” is all he manages, staring at Jaskier in disbelief because surely he can’t think he doesn’t deserve a bath just as much as Eskel when they’d played a relatively equal part in this particular contract, can he?

But they can’t have this conversation when he’s literally sat naked in a bath so he just shakes his head and stands up to get dressed, only realising his mistake when Jaskier all but squeaks and springs to his feet, his face flushing.

“I’m going to go… soap,” Jaskier blurts, disappearing before Eskel has finished cursing.

Once more, Eskel is left staring at a closing door. He sighs heavily and gets dressed, but that doesn’t help because then he starts wondering where Jaskier is going to get spare clothes from.

When he finds his thoughts drifting back to his newfound distaste for silence, he sighs and leaves their room, hoping that Jaskier won’t hold anything against him. When he doesn’t spot Jaskier either performing or at any of the tables, he walks over to the woman from earlier. “Have you seen m- the bard that was with me?”

The woman raises an eyebrow again, folding her arms. “And why should I tell you when it took you so long to try and find him?”

Eskel inwardly marvels at how Jaskier has managed to worm his way into this woman’s heart within approximately one conversation and sighs. “I didn’t know I was meant to, he said he was going to find soap.”

She snorts. “Well he didn’t do a very good job then.”

Eskel stiffens. “Is he okay?”

Glancing over him from head to toe, she gestures behind her. “We let him stay in the kitchens, it’s not as noisy and it didn’t seem like he’d make it back to a room on his own.”

Red flags could not be flying any faster in Eskel’s mind as he frowns, heading to the kitchens himself. Most people shuffle out of his way as he makes his way to the back wall, where Jaskier is slumped in the corner.

Cursing none too quietly, he kneels down beside him, gently pulling away the blanket someone has draped over him. “Jaskier? Jaskier, hey, open your eyes for me.”

Jaskier groans, half-heartedly pushing Eskel’s hands away. “Just give me two minutes, I’ll be fine.”

“You need to tell me if something’s wrong, do we need a healer?” Eskel asks, checking over Jaskier himself and frowning harder when he finds nothing obvious. What good can he possibly be to this bard if he can’t even keep him alive and well?

Jaskier blinks himself upright and shakes his head. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m just- I’m just tired.”

Eskel can literally feel his frown deepen; he can’t fathom why Jaskier would insist on washing his hair if he was truly this tired because really, it should have been the other way around.

Someone makes a strange noise of disbelief behind him, at which point he realises he’s said that out loud and instantly stiffens, almost regretting his life choices. Almost, because the sleepy smile he gets from Jaskier is most definitely worth a second round of being mortified.

“Need to find more oils if you want to wash my hair,” Jaskier whispers, yawning.

Eskel’s not entirely sure if his heart melts or skips a beat or does some unholy combination of the two but regardless, he forgets what the whole concept of replying is for an entire minute.

An entire minute within which Jaskier chuckles softly and lets his head fall forward to rest on Eskel’s shoulder. “I think it was the siren.”

Pretending that he’s not positively delighted to learn Jaskier is comfortable enough to lean on him again, Eskel focuses on the siren. “Did she do anything to you?”

“Tried to drown me?” Jaskier offers, and Eskel ever so slightly wants to throw himself off a cliff for asking such a stupid question.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t a very good que- wait. She only tried . She couldn’t even get you to stay quiet,” Eskel says, mostly just reminding himself because he’s pretty sure that resisting a siren’s lure has to be incredibly taxing.

Jaskier lifts his head up with seemingly great difficulty. “I’m not very good at staying quiet. But it’d be bad for business, really, wouldn’t it? What use is a quiet bard? Well, what use is a bard to a witcher at all? But that's- I mean, never mind witchers, nobody wants to listen to a quiet bard when they’re drunk or, or… what’s the opposite of drunk?”

Eskel blinks.

It seems they have a lot to unpack from Jaskier’s exhausted rambling but there’s a time and a place and in the corner of a kitchen just after having killed a siren doesn’t tick either of those boxes. And besides, he’s far too busy wanting to deck Geralt to answer any of Jaskier’s questions.

“You need to rest,” Eskel settles for, pulling Jaskier upright with him and wrapping one of Jaskier’s arms around his shoulders so he can support some of his weight.

Jaskier hums. “I thought you were washing my hair.”

This time, Eskel glares at the few people who laugh, shaking his head when they step out of his way with guilty expressions. The woman in charge out front nods at the two of them, albeit not without noting the way Jaskier is so heavily leaning on him and raising an eyebrow for the third time.

“Thank you,” Eskel mutters, because it looks like she’s expecting him to say it.

She looks almost surprised but offers him a small smile. “Meals are free of charge if you need them before you leave.”

“Too kind,” Jaskier manages to mumble before Eskel can.

Getting up the stairs is unexpectedly easy because Jaskier seems to regain his energy for long enough to reach their room, where he hesitates. “Gonna get the bed wet. She said not to,” he whines.

Eskel sighs, unable to understand Jaskier’s priorities. “She won’t mind, you’re not really that wet anymore.”

And he’s not, even though his clothes are still an uncomfortable step ahead of damp. The blanket that’d been given to him seems to have absorbed most of the water because it looks as if he’d been caught in a light spell of rain rather than dropped into a lake.

“She won’t be mad?” Jaskier asks, leaning on his shoulder again, the lingering scent of decay weakening a little as his voice fills with hope.

Eskel shakes his head. “She won’t, I promise.”

“I just need a few minutes then,” Jaskier mumbles, all but collapsing into the mattress and proving that he definitely needs a lot more than that.

Eskel can’t imagine the sheer amount of willpower it would require to resist a siren’s words for so long and overcome them well enough to negotiate an escape. By all means, it shouldn’t even be possible, but Jaskier is unlike any bard he’s ever known.

“Take all the time you need,” Eskel replies, but then frowns. “Aren’t you going to change out of those clothes first?”

Jaskier makes a face that manages to convey how much he dislikes that idea even with his eyes closed.

Eskel finds himself chuckling at that, which seems to briefly snap Jaskier out of his exhaustion. He blinks up at Eskel and bites his lip before hesitantly clearing his throat. “Would you, uh… I mean, did you bring your bedroll this time?”

Was he meant to bring his bedroll this time?

Jaskier groans weakly at Eskel’s confusion. “What I mean, darling witcher, is to ask whether you’re- well, I’m still damp and I rather like to avoid being a nuisance because that’s a title reserved for the likes of Valdo and I-”

“Jaskier, I don’t care if you’re still damp, if that’s what you’re worrying about,” Eskel interrupts, but as softly as possible because he doesn’t want to feed the awful scent that’s still lingering around them.

Jaskier smiles softly. “So would you- I mean, do I get the privilege of your company once more?”

How he’s managing to articulate so well despite his eyes drooping, Eskel has no idea. But what he does know is that he’d be an utter fool to go and fetch his bedroll. So instead of replying, he simply lies beside Jaskier, hoping he hasn’t misread things in some way.

And he hasn’t, judging by the grateful look in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Jaskier murmurs, curling towards him, already drifting into sleep.

Eskel exhales softly as their arms brush but nods. “Truly a privilege on my part, bardling.”

He’s still unsure what to do about this darker, decay-scented aspect of Jaskier’s personality but that’ll have to be addressed another time because, even though he’s not too tired himself and he was rather hoping for a good lunch, it’d be a crime to leave the room when Jaskier so clearly needs the rest and wants him to stay.

After all, delayed meals and damp clothes are an easy price to pay for being able to take care of his favourite bard.

i do apologise for the shady lore and ooc vibes but it's the best i can do for now :p hope everyone's had a good start to september xx

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

#hurt jaskier #jaskel #jaskier x eskel #insecure jaskier #caring eskel #soft eskel #post rare species #healing #hurt comfort #angst #angst and fluff #the witcher #fanfic #fanfiction #jaskel fanfic #netflix the witcher #canon whomst #my writing #tmypicta

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crocro-dyle · 5 years ago

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IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING I CAN'T SLEEP SO HERE SOME SOFTNESS

I CAN'T SLEEP BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT ESKEL STOPPING AT A VILLAGE, FOR PAYMENT ONE OF THE FAMILLY OFFER HIM A BED FO A FEWS NIGHT, FOOD AND A LITTLE MORE STUFF.

The family is small and sweet they got a soft little girl maybe 5 maybe 6 he can't really tell, everything is fine exept that the kid is staring at him.

A lot.

Since he got there, when the father showed him his bed, when he's talking with him about the monster, when they eat dinner.

She's there staring at his face and he feel so bad, because he can see that those big eyes are staring at "it" , they're not staring at his face, not at his hair, even less at his eyes but they are staring at his scar.

He know it's big, it's scary, people don't really like it and that it show how much of a monster he is and know that what that little girl may be thinking or that she may find it disgusting.

So he say nothing, he stay silent, he try to hide it from her gaze, always looking away from her, hiding it being his hand. But it's start to itch, it's itch so much like everytime he remember it's here, ugly and scary, crossing his face.

And he start to scratch a it, trying to make the itch go away and hide it better with his finger, until a little pull on his sleeve make him leave his thoughts look a bit down, and here she is again.

Wide all too innocent eyes looking at him before her little voice goes "does it hurt?"

Does he ears right ? Esekl probably freezing on the spot has she go

" Daddy got one too on his leg and he said that sometime is just hurt again event if it's old"

Can you see the scene, can you see Eskel probably confused face as he slowly nod because what can he say to that? What can he do ? Lie as he already feel the itch comming back and his finger scratching his skin?

And most of all why is this little girl smiling at him? Why did she pull out a chair, that she can hardly standing on it to be at eyes level with him? Looking though him has she is saying with the most joyfull voice.

" I KNOW HOW TO HEAL THAT !!"

Before taking his hand away with her little one and giving him the sweetest and biggest kiss she can on the scared flesh crossing his cheek before saying so proudly, a wide smile showing a few missing baby teeth.

" A magic kiss! Daddy say it always work to get the pain away ! With it, it will never hurt you anymore now!"

Before leaving a way too stuned Wicther has she get down from her chair running to join her sibiling to bed.

After that never again does she stared at him, offering him instead the widest smile and sparkliest eyes he ever saw.

And from that day on she was right. His scar, it never hurt, it never itches again because each time he was thinking about it all he could get was the memory this sweet little girl and her soft magic kiss.

I WANT SWEET ESKEL WITH SOFT CHILDREN NOT BEING SCARED OF HIM OR HIS SCAR!!!

(If any of you got more prompt and Eskel with soft children idea go on i want to read them!!)

Sorry for the all so shitty writting, know you know why i only give idea and don't really writte anything 8")

#the witcher #witcher netflix #eskel #witcher eskel #writing prompt #witcher prompt #soft eskel #SOFT WICTHER

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ao3feed-geralt-jaskier · 4 years ago

Link

by poselikeateam

Sequel to “The Essence of Belonging” — Now that Geralt and Jaskier are together, Geralt invites him to Kaer Morhen. Just how long will it take the other witchers fo figure out what his bard really is?

Words: 1894, Chapters: 1/12, Language: English

Series: Part 12 of Higher Vampire Jaskier AUs

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Eskel (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher), Vesemir (The Witcher)

Additional Tags: Jaskier | Dandelion Being a Little Shit, Vampire Jaskier | Dandelion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Parent Vesemir (The Witcher), Lambert Being a Little Shit (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Asshole, but in a funny way, Geralt being a little shit, Good Friend Eskel (The Witcher), Family Bonding, Mating Bond, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Banter, Old Married Couple, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg is So Done, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Friendship, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, POV Alternating, Mind Meld, but only vaguely, Developing Relationship

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #netflix the witcher #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #geraskier

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permanently-exhausted-bitch · 4 years ago

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The Beacon Activation

Also available here on AO3

Thank you @dapandapod for helping me figure this out!

RATING: Mature

PAIRINGS: Geralt/Jaskier, Geralt & Cirilla, Geralt & All Other Witchers

SUMMERY: Unknown to humans, the witchers have a what's known as a Beacon. The beacon is activated when something comes up that needs all witchers from all schools to stand together. It has never had to be used. Until now.

The Beacon is activated. The witchers are coming for their swallow.

It was secret to all surviving witchers of the sackings that a spell could be activated and witchers from all schools would come together in an emergency. So when Cirilla was kidnapped by Nilfgaurd, Geralt decided to use The Beacon.

No one but Geralt and Eskel knew that Geralt was a very powerful mage as well. Many witchers thought Geralt's lack of powerful signs was a side effect of the extra mutations but that wasn't true. He kept them weak to not hint off that he's a powerful mage.

So, when Geralt felt Cirilla's tracking spell activate in Nilfgaurd, Geralt opens a portal close to where he scensed Eskel. To his luck, Eskel was drinking with Lambert. Geralt stepped out of the portal to see he was just outside of a town.

"Come on, Roach. Let's go see Eskel and Lambert. I can hear them in the tavern." Geralt mutters and spurs Roach forward. He arrives then to the post outside then goes inside.

"Another witcher! What brings the majestic White Wolf to these parts." The barman asked curiously.

"I'm here for my brothers." Geralt said before walking past him to greet Eskel and Lambert who had stood up. Geralt pulled Eskel into his arms and pressed his nose against his neck.

"Geralt's what's the matter?" Eskel asked worriedly.

"Nilfgaurd has the pup. I came to get you both so we could activate The Beacon. I'm sure we don't need the backup but I'm sure the others from the other schools will want a piece of the army that took our Swallow." Geralt said quietly. Eskel nods but Lambert looks at Geralt in confusion.

"How are we gonna activate it? Will Yennefer help us? The beacon was made when mages still resided in Kaer Morhen. None of us, except maybe Eskel, has that kind of power." Lambert said quietly. Eskel looks at Geralt who sighs and nods.

"There's something Eskel and I should probably tell you. Follow me." Geralt said nervously, before leading them out to the horse post.

They got their horses and Geralt led them to a clearing where Geralt sighed and looked at Lambert.

"So, Lambert, there's something you should probably know about me. Before I say anything, I just- please don't think I didn't tell you because I don't trust you or love you. I haven't even told Vesemir. Eskel and Yennefer are the only ones that know and Yen only knows because she read my mind. Eskel helped me through it as children. Jaskier doesn't know, Cirilla doesn't know although she might be able to sense it, even if she doesn't know what it means. Anyway, I just don't like people being afraid of me or see me as less than a witcher. I-" Geralt started to ramble but was cut off by Lambert's hand over his mouth.

"Geralt, I know you like dick. It's fine. Just get to the point." Lambert said tiredly.

"It's not that. This is probably more that that. Truth is, I'm not just a witcher, I'm also a very powerful mage. My birth mother was a sorceress. I got that gift. My signs are even stronger than Eskel's but I always toned them down during training so I wouldn't be taken back again for more experiments. If they knew I could move things with my mind, they would have tried to take me for a third round. They would have tried to figure out how to recreate my powers in other witchers and more boys would have been subjected to experiments. I couldn't let that happen to them and especially you. I read their minds. They were going to try and take Eskel back for more experiments. I used a very powerful Axii that they had no hope of overcoming and made them forget about their plans for him. I used Axii on 5 different Master witchers at the same time, Lambert, I broke through their walls in seconds. I had them all under my spell and they never knew it. And I was 15." Geralt said quietly, looking down at his hands as he levitated a dagger in front of him before flipping it with his mind and sends it soaring across the clearing and into a tree, only for it to reappear in his hands a second later.

"Fuck. So you didn't tell them so Eskel and I wouldn't go through the extra trials? If that's the reason, why would you have kept this from me? Geralt, you saved my life, and Eskel's." Lambert said quietly before moving his horse over to Geralt's and pulled Geralt to him in as much of a hug as he could manage.

"I was scared." Geralt said quietly before hugging Lambert back. After a few second, Lambert pulled back with a determine look.

"Come on, let's go save our little pup." Lambert said, making Geralt nod with a chuckle while he opened a portal to the Kaer Morhen gates.

Inside, Lambert goes and gets Vesemir while Geralt goes to the beacon room while Eskel stables the horses.

Inside the Beacon room, Geralt familiarizes himself with the equipment and when the others arrive they see Geralt standing in the room with his arms outstretched and a potatent smell of ozone as they all felt the chaos pulsing from him.

While Chanting in elder, Geralt puts one hand on a stone and the other stretched out in front of him before suddenly they see all their medallions lifting up.and Geralt's face appears above them in a cloud of magic mist.

"My witchers brethren of all schools, I have activated the Beacon in a plea to help us wolves rescue our little cirllia. Nilfgaurd has taken my daughter, your niece. I ask you all to aid me in storming the gates of Nilfgaurd to save our Swallow and to teach the kingdoms of the continent why they wouldn't go after someone who is under the witchers' protection. So, whose with us?" Geralt asked with a smirk. Using the chaos surrounding them all he hears almost 50 witchers respond with enthusiastic agreement.

"I thank you. I will open a portal to Kaer Morhen courtyard for all of you. We'll discuss our strategy here." Geralt said before taking a deep breath and looking at Eskel.

"Eskel, place your hand on my shoulder. I just need a little more energy. Lambert can you go get the dining room cleared out for about 50 witchers and Vesemir, can you fo get the gate open. I'm going to open the portals to the outside of the gates. Then have a few witchers go hunting so we have some food for tonight and tomorrow. I'm gonna start opening portals but I'm running out of energy. If I pass out, just lay me down somewhere I'll only take a few hours and a good meal to regain strength." Geralt said tiredly as he lets out another pulse of chaos as Eskel crowds in front of him and presses their foreheads together. Eskel closes his eyes and presses his hand to Geralt's cheek and hip.

While Lambert goes to the dining room Vesemir walks out to the gates to see a single portal open and witchers come out in groups. Vesemir waits until the portal closes and then looks around ar the group.

"Coen, Adian, Terrent, Gabriel, can you please go hunt for our dinner? this is a very unexpected gathering and we don't have enough supplies. The rest of you, follow me, show you to dining room the barracks. Most of our rooms are unusable so you'll all have to sleep where the apprentices used too. I apologize for the state of the keep, us wolves try and keep it as clean and safe as we can but with only 4 of us, it's difficult. All of you are free to uar the courtyard and training equipment if you please during your stay." Vesemir said as he guided the group inside.

Eskel walked in with a semi-conscious Geralt hanging off him. Eskel sits Geralt down and sits beside him then lets Geralt lay down. Once Geralt was asleep in Eskel's lap, Letho speaks up.

"So, I think I can speak for all of us and ask how the fuck Geralt was able active the Beacon and portal us all here?"

Eskel brushes his hand through Geralt's hair and looks at the group of witchers who have settled themselves around the room.

"Geralt's birth mother, Visenna, is a sorceress. Geralt has alway been a mage and mutations just made the connection to chaos stronger." Eskel said before looking at Vesemir.

"He said he kept it a secret because the Masters who did the experimental trials figured out that my signs are stronger and was planning on bringing me back for extra trials. So at age 15, he heard their plans and put 5 Master witchers under Axii at the same time and made them forget about their plans for me. He saw the future in one of his dreams, He saved mine and many other witchers' lives, including Lambert's." Eskel said nervously. Vesemir looks at Geralt in shock and pride, however before he could say anything, four other witchers walk in with 5 large elk.

"We got dinner!!" Aiden cheered!

Later that night, over dinner, the witchers worked over the strategy for their invasion and rescue. And once, the plan was in place, the witchers sharpened their blades and looked to Geralt who was now fully energized again and was fully armoured. All the witchers then make their way out to the stables

"Brothers, Nilgaurd has mages so I can't risk portaling straight into the castle but I can let us off a couple hours ride away. Let's go get our Swallow!" Geralt yelled, making everyone raise their swords and roar in agreement.

Geralt opened a portal and kicks Roach into a gallop and lead the witchers out of Kaer Morhen.

Pasty, as old as she was, had seen a lot in her long life. She had lost her husband and her sons to her Emperor's conquest for land and power, so she hoped and prayed that the war would end soon. She didn't realize that her prayers would be answered mere hours later. Patsy was tending to her little shop when suddenly the ground started to shake.

The villagers around her look around in shock and fear then suddenly 50 terrifying looking horses run through the village square, all of them were carrying heavily armed and armoured witchers. And they were heading towards the palace.

"Why are the witchers here? They've never been seen in one place before." Lana, her daughter in law croaks beside her.

"I heard rumors that they took that white haired female that they say is the daughter of the white wolf. I assume that right there, that was an invasion force. The king took the white Wolf's daughter, its known he's very protective of her. He probably gathered all the others and is going to breach the castle." Adam, Patsy's youngest son said shakily.

"Good riddance." Patsy sneers and hobbled back inside.

As Geralt and the others approach the castle, Geralt sends a telepathic message to Ciri through their bond and sends her flash images of the outside of the castle and his witcher brothers behind him. He smiles slightly at the thankfulness and love she projects back before frowning as she sends back images of a thought to be dead Duny

"He wants to take me, dad, to bed. He says our future son will be all powerful and will be his heir according to prophecy." her fearful voice fills his head. Geralt snarls loudly before looking at the others.

"THE EMPEROR IS MINE ONLY! he wants to rape Ciri for a prophecies all powerful son." Geralt yells making everyone growl and hiss respectively.

"We're coming Pup, hold on. We're coming up on the palace gates. Are you able to get out of your bonds?' He asks through the mental link.

"I'm already out of them, I've just been keeping my arms behind my back. They didn't think to check me for weapons. I have my daggers and I can still teleport. They don't know I already have training."

"Good girl. Don't go after Duny. He can have you defiled in minutes. Leave him to me. He's mine. I saved his life at your mother's betrothal feast, I would like to correct that mistake. As soon as he leaves the room, portal yourself to my location. I have a sword for you, it was going to be a birthday present but you need it now." Geralt sent back as they arrive at the gate.

Geralt summons a strong blast and the doors blow off their hinges and rattle the entire castle as they fall.

Emperor Emhyr was sitting across from his daughter, trying to convince her to let him breed her when suddenly a loud expression rocks the castle. Cirilla states laughing manically and grins at her birth father.

"You pissed off the wrong people, Emhyr. You've sighed your own death warrant!" She crows in laughter as the sounds of screaming, roaring and laughter wind through the castle walls.

Suddenly a terrified and heavily injured guard barges in.

"SIR! Witchers! An army's worth. And they're pissed." The man pants before collapsing. Emhyr looks at Ciri who smirks but gets up and runs out the door, leaving Cirilla alone.

"Finally! Coming to ya dad!" Ciri sends Geralt before standing up, stretching a little and the disappearing in a flash of green light. When she arrives, she is standing next to Roach and Geralt is holding a sword. He hops down off Roach and hugs her tightly before handing her the sword.

"Wow, it's a shame it'll already see its first blood." She said, obviously not sorry at all. She and her dad, move with fluid grace as they fight back to back as soldiers run at them.

Then suddenly Geralt senses other magic and puts Cirilla behind him and throws up a shield that covers all the witchers. He looks over to see a shocked and fearful sorceress.

"Impossible! Witchers cannot control chaos!" She cried.

"That's partly true, I'm the only mutant mage. And I'm a damn powerful one." He said before baring his fangs and shoots a spell at her to transform into a dandelion. She tries to block it but he's too powerful for her and sudden a small dandelion sat on the ground where she stood.

"Why a flower, wolf??" Lambert called from his left.

"Because of this!" Geralt replied with a grin and walked over, picked up the flower and held it to Roach, she knocked happily and ate it from his hand.

The soldiers and witchers gape at him as the court silences. The witcher had just fed Nilfgaurds most powerful sorceress to his horse and did it with a smile on his face. One by one, soldiers suddenly start dropping their weapons in surrender, thoroughly terrified at that display of magic.

Emhyr tries to run to a back entrance in the throne room when suddenly the door way in front of him glowed with a barrier. Emhyr looks to see a bloody but uninjured Geralt stalking through with an equally bloody and uninjured Cirilla by Geralt's side and with dozens of witchers filing in behind him.

"Tsk tsk tsk. I saved your life, Duny. And you kidnap and try and rape my daughter. Is this how you repay me?" Geralt sneers with a nasty smirk.

"She's my daughter, Witcher." Emhyr says coldly.

"That's where you're wrong, Geralt is more of a dad than you have ever been. Where were you when I was grieving my parents, where were you when I learned to play the harp? Where were you when I was lost in the woods for months, where were you when I was learning to sing? Where were you who I scraped my knees when I fell down some stares? Where where you when my kitten died and grandmother and Eist were to busy to help me calm down? ..mhmm. you were here. Hiding and planning my rape and probably subsequent murder. Geralt is the one who helped me learn to survive, to live. He taught me how to fight, he taught me what real love looks like. I was having a terrible nightmare a few months ago. Almost brought Kaer Morhen down with my screams. And dad helped me breath again and he told to bundle up and meet him outside. That he had a tradition to show me, an ancient witcher tradition. And when I for out there, he threw a snowball at my face. We had a snowball fight in the middle of the night and after, I fell asleep with a smile. He put away old rivalry and forgave old betrayal to bring all of the witchers together to rescue me. The wolves, cats and vipers have never been in the same room before without beating eachother bloody. Geralt is my dad, Vesemir is my grandfather, Yennefer of Vengerberg is my mom, Master bard Jaskier is my papa and Triss Marigold is my sister. The witchers of the continent are my uncles. I have my family. And you, emperor asshole, are not my family. I exercise my right to renounce my title as heir and princess. I renounce you, Emperor Emhyr var Emreis. I am not your daughter." Ciril rants before looking at Geralt with a smile.

"Let the record reflect that I, Geralt of Rivia, claim Cirilla as my own. She is now Cirilla of Kaer Morhen, our little swallow." Geralt said before picking Emhyr up with his magic and tearing the man's head from his body with a sickening pop.

Geralt takes the head and guides out the witchers and they mount their horses again. Geralt pulls Ciri up in front of him and lead his brother out of the castle gates. They walk to the town center and toss Emhyr's head onto the ground infront of a crowd.

"Let it be known that anyone who hurts who is under our protection, the consequences are severe. Good luck to you all." Geralt before urging Roach down the road. Geralt opens a portal and puts them near Ban Gleán. They trot along quietly, revealing in the victory and the relief that Cirilla was safe but then Geralt heard strumming, familiar strumming. Geralt looks forward to see Jaskier walking in front of them.

"Jask!" Geralt yelled, making Jaskier look up and stumble in shock. He runs to Geralt's side and let's Geralt dismount Roach, leaving Ciri in the saddle.

"Why the hell are you all traveling together and soaked in blood?" Jaskier asked worriedly as he checks Geralt for injuries but Geralt just chuckles and pulls Jaskier to him.

"I'm okay Jask, we're all okay. The blood isn't any of ours. Nilfgaurd took Ciri, so we brought down Nilfgaurd." Geralt said as he nuzzled against Jaskier's neck and jaw.

"Oh ok good I- wait. YOU TOOK DOWN NILFGAURD!!??" Jaskier yelled before looking at Ciri.

"Kiddo, I thought we taught you better? How on earth did you get taken?" Jaskier asked worriedly.

"Papa, I'm an 18 year old woman. Even with training, I can't take down 20 men by myself. I took 7 down before they got me though. And I bit one guy's finger off. He wouldn't go near me again when I was there" Ciri said smugly.

"That's my girl." Jaskier said before rounding on Geralt.

The witchers behind them couldn't believe it. This little bard was ranting and raving and shouting that he should have been there, and how he could have made a beautiful song out of it and how dare Geralt not tell him that Ciri had be kidnapped. This bard scared them a little at his lack of fear but the sheepish smile on Geralt's face would surely result in teasing for years.

However, as the bard, continue to rant, one thing became evident. The white wolf had been tamed but he was not soft nor slow or weak, but instead, ferociously protective, loyal, and loving to those he loved. Yet, he was brutal and unforgiving in his vicious attacks if those he loved were threatened.

Jaskier isn't his. He is Jaskier's.

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