#good king jaskier

[spielzeugkaiser]

hi, first off i really love your art. the h/c and warmth really hit me where i live and your illustration style is fantastic. lately i've been obsessed with the post where an unwell milek thinks geralt will leave him behind. was that an ingrained insecurity, assuming his super-witcher dad wouldn't have time for a sickly human kid?

[MASTERPOST] - Ahh, thank you for the ask! Yes, this scene.. I actually saw this a bit differently! It's not about Milek fearing Geralt will leave him behind, he actually wants him to. They need to find his Pa!! I think he often feels like a burden; Jaskier knows this, but Geralt isn't aware of this yet. Milek just wants to pull his weight, especially with Jaskier. A little sneak peak to their struggles regarding this:

Meanwhile Jaskier continues to struggle with his omega status.

[thelostgirl21]

That moment you realize that, technically, Radovid is more of "elven blood" than Ciri herself is...

I've also noticed that Radovid would never have been Prince, much less King, if it wasn't for Falka's rebellion.

Since I didn't put all the children's names in the family tree (only those that inherited the throne), basically, what happened is that Radovid III and Vizimir I were brothers, and Radovid III inherited the throne after their father, Radovid II, was lost at sea.

When Radovid III died of meningitis at age 49, his son, Vridank, became King.

King Vridank had a daughter, named Falka, with Beatrix of Kovir, but divorced her when he fell in love with Cerro, and sent her and their daughter back to Kovir.

King Vridank and Cerro then had two sons together:

- Prince Heltmult, and

- Prince Denhard.

They also adopted Riannon, the daughter of Lara Dorren and Cregennan of Lod (Ciri's ancestors).

So, normally, after King Vridank's death, Prince Heltmult or Prince Denhard should have inherited the throne (depending on which one was the eldest).

But Falka murdered her father, Queen Cerro, and the two princes during her rebellion, and caused Riannon to go mad (plus, she was already married to the King of Temeria at the time).

So, the still living uncle of King Vridank, Vizimir I, inherited the throne from his nephew at age 52, and went on to rule until he was 96!

And King Vizimir I is the ruler that Vizimir II and Radovid V both descend from.

Then, there's also the whole story with their father, King Heribert, having chosen to marry a noblewoman against his father's wishes, with the clerk having documented the union as a morganatic marriage.

So technically, had that note on the marriage documents been respected, Prince Vizimir II and Prince Radovid V should never have been allowed to inherit the throne...

But their mother apparently did something to that note to make it look like it was just some scribble on an old dusty document or something...

I don't know if either princes were ever told of it, though.

Could you imagine Radovid finding out, and showing up with the documents proving that his father and mother's morganatic marriage was meant to prevent any child of hers from inheriting anything from their father and going "Sorry! According to this I can't be king! Bye everyone! I'm out!"

[kaedix]

I was tagged by @roseofcards90 to share 9 songs that have been on repeat lately! Thank you!!

I'm tagging @ruleofexception @sabraeal @bubblesthemonsterartist @meibemeibelline @ccprovolomies and anyone else who wishes to join! ❤️

[artistsfuneral]

Some unedited Court Jester Jaskier/King Warlord Geralt thoughts

Okay so. Jaskier is one of many children, not the oldest, not the youngest, not fit for a more religious position (they've tried, Jaskier was sent back within days) he's smart, and talented when it comes to the arts, but also a troublemaker of the worst kind, so not particularly made for marriage either. What does one do with a child like that? Send him to King Henselt as a personal gift. A court jester. Jaskier is probably around 15/16 at the time. Very much an "adult" and ready for the task that's actually so much more complicated than it sounds. Yes, a court jester mainly exists for the king's amusement, but there's also so much more. He's a 24/7 available companion, shadowing the king at all times. He's there in the throne room, sitting by the king's feet, whispering jokes and his opinions/advice into Henselt's ear. He makes fun of the nobles that he knows are up to no good, ridicules them in front of the court and blatantly talks about secret information like it's kitchen gossip. He's valuable. He always knows what's going on. He's there in the throne room, he's there at the grand balls, he's there in the far back corner of the war room, he's there in the servants passageways and he's there, he's there, he's there......

Jaskier is also there, in the throne room, at Henselt's feet, when the witcher arrives. He sits there on a little stool in a colorful doublet like a little pet. He's juggling for Henselt's amusement, his king is easily bored by day to day politics and Jaskier needs to keep him happy if he wants to keep listening. The witcher distracts the king enough for Jaskier to be able to fade into the background, to stop juggling and listen. Tensions are high at the moment, Cintra is about to be swarmed by nilfgaardian soldiers and Redania is desperately looking for allies in the neighboring countries. Henselt prefers to sit on his fat ass and watch the upcoming war with a goblet of wine in hand. Jaskier though, Jaskier is invested. So when a witcher enters the throne room of Kaedwen Jaskier sits up like a dog who's about to be given its favorite treat.

Geralt of Rivia is his name. His accent is off though and he speaks of politics and monsters as if they were the very same. With the upcoming war witchers are retreating back into the mountains and they want their home and the surrounding lands to be owned by them (so legally not make them part of Kaedwen anymore) so they can remain neutral in the war. In return they are willing to provide their services for free to Henselt (which is really valuable atm bc there's a looot of monsters hidden in the forests and mountains) and Jaskier knows this, but Henselt... Henselt couldn't care less. Too arrogant and prejudiced of a man to give witchers what is essentially their own kingdom. So Henselt turns into a giant ass, belittling and cussing out the witcher who stands there in the throne room with his head held high, showing more dignity than any king and Jaskier suddenly understands that he has to sneak away.

He does so without anyone noticing, slipping through secret passageways and ends up waiting in a shadowy corner of the courtyard. He doesn't have to wait too long to spot the infamous white haired witcher and, hoping that the rumors about their hearing are true, quickly warns the witcher about the trap set out for him a bit down the road. The witcher stops dead in his tracks and Jaskier quickly asks him (he's still hidden away, Geralt can't see him) to do something like checking his pack so it doesn't look so suspicious and Geralt does so. Then Jaskier proceeds to very.... lightly suggest the witchers could just overthrow the king and take the castle, making all of Kaedwen their land. Henselt's army is currently stationed along the borders (thx to Jask) so there's really not many soldiers around.....

And the witchers do. Not like anyone is there to stop them.

And then the witchers take over the castle and they're keeping the servants alive and many decide to flee but some remain and work for the witchers now and Jaskier of course stays as well because who else would entertain the children that are too young to help with wotk but are also too scared of the many witchers suddenly living in their home to play like they normally would. And Geralt whos basically now the Warlord is drowning in work and then he looks outside and he sees the silly little court jester imitating some of the witchers in the courtyard, singing funny songs, making the scared huddle of children laugh and smile and-

[caffieneaddictt18]

Of Hearts and Swords

Premise: Reader drives Geralt crazy. Good crazy. He is drunk on the love they share and is completely and utterly infatuated with her. He would do anything for her. The moment she asks him for anything, to getting bread from the market to killing a man, he will do it for her. Anything for his she-wolf.

Playlist is by harleycao here on Tumblr

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4F3ldBxx0Da1SPlcmgu61H?si=9zbz8tnlQYaLXZWb8IWbLg

As you, Geralt, Jaskier and Ciri make your way to the next town, you start to notice Ciri growing tired and falling behind.

"Ciri!" You stop and beckon the girl over. Ciri stops and looks at you before running to you and your stallion, Orpheus, a gift from Geralt.

"Is something wrong?" Ciri looks concerned. Her hand rests on the hilt of her sword and a stony look starts to set into her eyes.

"Nope. Just figured you would want to ride Orpheus," You say and slide down for Ciri to mount him, "so hop on." You try to help Ciri get onto the saddle but fail, as she is now a strong young lady.

You turn to Geralt, who you see is also stopped and staring at you, making sure you are okay. "Geralt, dear, will you please help Ciri into the saddle?" You politely ask your husband.

Geralt, as though he had already heard your question before you said it, got off of Roach and quickly got to you, gently laying his hand on your hip. "Of course, darling."

Geralt, as a Witcher, does not take much effort to do anything except kill monsters, so lifting Ciri is like holding a couple of grapes.

However, he knows you... He knows you watch him. He knows you like to admire your husband... And he will gladly appease. So, even if Ciri feels as light as a feather, he flexes his arms while lifting her and making it look effortless.

As he situates Ciri on the saddle, he glances at you to see you watching him in rapture with a flush on your cheeks. He smirks while finishing strapping her into saddle.

Once he is done, he gives you a look of burning passion and struts toward you before scooping you up in a tight hold before sitting you on Roach. "Are you stable?"

You reach out and place a gentle hand on his cheek, "I am very stable, my darling. Thank you."

Geralt takes your hand and gently kisses it, before taking Roach's reins and leading the way to the nearest town. ______________________________________________________________

As Geralt leads the group into the market, with you perched on his horse, he can't help but think of a time where you two met. It seemed to happen not so long ago...

Geralt was hired as a king's escort for a war. Another stupid war... but it's good money.

Not nearly good enough for some of the shit he does for these bastards but good enough..

"Geralt!" A king beckons the man with white hair over. Geralt trudges over. "Our war advisor will be coming today to assist. If you have any questions or need anything, she is the one to ask." The old king claps Geralt on his shoulder.

She? Who could this 'she' be? He has never heard of a woman war advisor.

Then the clopping of hooves fell upon his ears. Geralt turns around, prepared for a fight, just to let his hand fall from his sword.

A woman was riding this horse. A horse of pure-blooded war and terror, but a soul of harmony and immenseness sits upon it.

A woman... bearing a symbol of a star encircled in a ring of metal, carrying two swords on her back and in a suit of armor seemingly not from this sphere. Her armor was a cloth, but it seemed to be threaded with a strong fiber-like metal.

As she approached, Geralt could see where else the encircled star was branded upon her, as if she owned the symbol. On her swords, the symbol was on the hilts. All her jewelry carried the symbol. It seemed to hang around her as much as she seemed to own it.

"Lord Lokinafir, I apologize for my tardiness. I was scoping out the lay of the land to get a better understanding of our situation." The woman dismounted from her horse and strode confidently towards the king. She bowed with a slight curtsy, resting her balance on the tips of her toes behind her.

"Of course, War Advisor. Would you like a map to draw out the lay of the land?" The king seemed to be eating out of her hand, even kissing her hand politely. He didn't even bother with the inappropriate flirting.

"No need, sire. I have something better." The woman smirked and waved her hand. A map of the land, complete with actual ridges and hills, spread out upon all of them. On each side of the map were the two armies, colored in red and white while the map was colored green.

"Soldiers!" Her voice seemed to boom and call attention to the mass of men, all with pent up testosterone and a thirst for blood, "Come!"

Her voice beckoned them to come surround the map and pay attention, even through the red haze of blood thirst. "This is the land we are fighting on. While we are at a slight disadvantage because of their size of army, we have the advantage of the land. That is all we need for a great offense. And the best offense comes with a greater defense." The map spun right in front of Geralt eyes and he faintly saw the symbol again on her palm and under the map before it faded to almost nothing. When he looked at it again, the land had changed. Their side was filled with rocks and had fallen at the opposing army's feet.

"While they stumble over themselves trying to climb out of the rocky terrain they will face, we come over our side of the hill and lie in wait with our swords pointed towards them..." The map changed again. The red soldiers had climbed over each other and finally over the rocks, while the white army laid in wait just at the middle to the bottom of the hill holding their spears towards the slope, "they run and with their momentum, impale themselves!" Suddenly, some of the reds started charging down the hill while the whites ran through the red soldiers with their spears, backed by other white soldiers to prevent themselves from falling and hurting anyone else.

"While they stall at the top of the hill, unsure of where to go, we volley them with catapults and mortars. Archers, this is where you are needed." People from the top of the hill the white soldiers have to climb over are catapults and mortars being fired off, killing most of the red soldiers. Archers back the mortar and catapults up, at least injuring the rest, causing a pitiful retreat from the red soldiers.

As she dissolves the map, Geralt knew...

He had to get to know you. ______________________________________________________________

You look back upon Jaskier, who mounted your horse once you also noticed him limping from blisters on the backs of his heels, and Ciri, hoping nothing has gone wrong. As far as you can tell, everything seems to be fine.

This immensely pleased you.

You looked upon your husband, dutifully scanning for any threat to your little family and leading the way.

"Geralt." You get the Witcher's attention as he still guides Roach and in turn guides Ciri, who is riding Orpheus. "Would you like to join me on Roach?"

"Do you want me there?" A deep, soft and gruff voice permeates the air and settles deep in your chest.

You take in a deep breath and nod, seeing a flash of yellow; knowing he is watching you. Your reaction. Your responses.

Geralt swiftly made his way to the saddle and mounted gracefully, with you still in the front, but now he has taken the reins.

On the ride to the town, Ciri asks Jaskier, "So... how did they meet?"

"Why are you asking me?" Jaskier questions Ciri. The girl is like a daughter to Geralt and Y/N. They'll tell her, anyways.

"You know everything about Geralt, don't you? You're the bard." Ciri accentuates, desperate for answers, tries to fluff Jaskier's feathers and get him to tell her.

Jaskier, feeling his ego grow, smirks and says, "You want to know how it goes? Fine." Her acts all perturbed at her poking but really is excited to tell a story.

"During a battle that no one has heard of, she showed up like a goddess riding on the wind. Geralt was immediately enraptured by her...

______________________________________________________________

"You're a mage." Geralt bluntly remarks, walking up the woman preparing her steed for battle.

She pauses. "Yes. And what of it?" The woman resumes brushing her horse.

"Well why not be safely in a castle? Tending to a king and being an advisor?" Geralt, not understanding the complexity of mages, asks.

"It wasn't for me. Besides, this is better money." The woman smiles and moves towards the head of her horse.

"You wouldn't need money if you were a mage for a king. What do you mean 'better money'?" Geralt is so confused. Why would she get paid? Are mages paid? Are some unpaid?

"I mean 'better money'. Mages do get paid, but it is typically a little amount because it is expected of them to live in the castle with the king and for the king to care for their mage, like a pet." The woman spat out the word 'pet' like it was sour.

"Ok... So if you didn't want to become a mage, why didn't you become a town healer? It's safer than this will ever be." Geralt rolls his eyes, not understanding this womans logic.

"Town's still get trampled over, plus as a mage, I could be chased out of town despite being there with all good intentions and purpose;" The woman looks longingly out at the soon-to-be battlefield, "War never goes out of style. After all..." Y/N looks dead into Geralt's yellow eyes, causing him to shiver, "everybody wants to rule the world."

______________________________________________________________

...and that day, she won the battle. Her horse died as a result, but Geralt offered for her to travel with him. He used the excuse of strategy, but he really just had developing feelings for her and didn't know how to express them. A few months later, Geralt had saved enough money from constantly killing monsters and bought her Orpheus. They kind of became a couple over time, and without notice. She has Geralt wrapped around her finger, and he would do anything for her." Jaskier finished his story, just glad he remembered the important bits.

"That's it?!" Ciri almost shouted. Jaskier was quick to shush her.

"Ciri, dear, are you okay?" Ciri could hear Y/N call from Roach. Geralt was glancing over his shoulder at the two, like he knew something was going on.

Jaskier gave Ciri a look before taking his hand away from her mouth, but not before she licked his hand, causing the bard to cringe at the ickiness. Geralt smirked at the scene.

"Just fine, Y/N! Jaskier is just telling me stories about you and Geralt." Ciri elbows the bard. 'Well played, kid.' Jaskier gives Ciri's under-the-bus throw a thought before smiling and agreeing.

"Which stories? We have lots~" Y/N's smirk can be heard from her voice.

"Just on how you two met. But I'm pretty sure he butchered it a bit, so can we trade, and you can tell me stories about you and Geralt?" Ciri smirks, looking at Jaskier. She knows Geralt would never let Jaskier even touch Roach.

"Are you okay with that, Darling?" Y/n leans into Geralt's firm chest, a feeling he secretly loves and will never tell anyone.

It is, however, apparent, as there was one time Jaskier tried to do a dance thing and fell into Geralt as to which the Witcher promptly stood the man on his feet.

A woman on the street once shoved Y/N out of the way to get to Geralt, and 'tripped', subsequently leading to her falling onto Geralt's chest. He swiftly moved to catch Y/N while pushing the woman away. Geralt didn't let Y/N walk anymore that day. Said that 'the hazard of tripping was too high'. Really, he just wanted to feel her against him.

Geralt looks at her and nods, knowing full well that he won't let Jaskier get on Roach. "Do it quick. We are losing daylight." Geralt said as he slows and pulls Roach to a stop.

Geralt hops off first and assists Y/N, helping her get off Roach and on Orpheus. Jaskier was quick to jump off Orpheus to avoid accidentally getting pushed off by Y/N.

As Y/N settled into Orpheus, Geralt strapped her in to make sure she fall off. Once he was content with it, he looked at her. "Thank you, my Darling." Y/N puts a soft hand to his face and gently thumbs his cheek.

Geralt smiles softly before heading back to Roach and giving Jaskier a glare when the bard tries to mount Roach. Jaskier purses his lips and backs off, submitting to his fate of walking.

"Can you tell me the story of how you and Geralt met?" Ciri, eyes shining in anticipation of heroic stories and funny tales of her father figure.

"Well, honey-girl, once upon a time..." Y/N's voice fades into the distance, away from the ears of squirrels and birds. Where the trees part and give way to civilization. "Seems we were closer than we thought." Y/N shrugs and gets off Orpheus, leading the stallion to the closest inn. "Maybe another time, dear." Y/N helps Ciri down and kisses her head softly before following Geralt into the inn for three rooms.

______________________________________________________________

Author's Cup of Tea:

So... tell me what y'all think. Even if you think it's bad, tell me what you did or didn't like. But for every bad there must be a good. please.my fragile heart cant handle it.

Have a great night/day!

[sammaggs]

1x02 Diefenbaker’s Day Off // 2x08 One Good Man // 2x13 White Men Can’t Jump to Conclusions // 3x01 Burning Down the House | Normalized

due South does a main character re-casting better than any other show on TV, and they do it by playing with television's own accepted meta-narrative.

Recasting a character has a long tradition in television, creating a viewership that knows and understands the storytelling short form at play. As viewers, we realize that sometimes actors aren't available to reprise a role (or simply aren't interested in it anymore); but, for the sake of the story, sometimes the show needs that character to come back. So we lean hard into suspended disbelief and just go with it. After all, the characters in the show accept the parareality of it—why shouldn't we?

Of course, the most famous example of a character recast would be the Dick/Darren disaster on 1960s sitcom Bewitched, when Dick York was unceremoniously replaced by Dick Sargent in the role of Darrin Stephens. ("The Dick Wars" would have gone absolutely insane).

it was... not successful

But they weren't the only ones to do it. Aunt Viv from Fresh Prince, Becky from Roseanne, Daario Naharis from Game of Thrones, Greg Serrano from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (pain, agony)—recasting characters but maintaining the fiction is a storied tradition in TV. New actor, same character; totally normalized.

And shows continue to do it, even today, with a—uh—similar dedication to fucking it up doing it poorly.

why must we be punished like this

due South even engages in this trope itself in season 2, when hard-hitting investigative journalist Mackenzie King is recast and they don't even try to find an actress who looks similar. In 1x02 Diefenbaker's Day Off, she's played by brunette Madolyn Smith-Osborne; in 2x08 One Good Man, she's been replaced by blonde Maria Bello, and nobody talks about it.

yeah i'm absolutely the same person, obviously

Everyone diegetically (within the world of the show) is just like, oh yeah, that's hard-hitting investigative journalist Mackenzie King. Totally. Only non-diegetically (outside of the world of the show) does the viewer go "No, that's not the same person." Internally, the fiction proceeds as usual.

So what would happen if, say, Samantha Stephens turned to Dick Sargent and said "You're not Darrin," when everyone else in the show continued to treat him as though he was? Or if Jaskier told Geralt that he knows he's not actually Geralt, and everyone treated him like he was delusional?

Or if Fraser, even, had recognized Mackenzie King as someone entirely different, and everyone treated him like he had a hole in his bag of marbles because of it? Of course that's Mackenzie King; even her boss knows it. No, she's never been a brunette. What are you talking about?

And that's exactly what happens in Burning Down the House.

the rays vecchio

Diagetically, everyone else treats Callum Keith Rennie's character as though he is Ray Vecchio. "Oh, good, you found him," says Det. Huey. Elaine, Franchesca, literally everyone else both at the station and outside of it treat Callum Keith Rennie Ray Vecchio as though he is David Marciano Ray Vecchio. They're acting exactly as any other TV character would in the face of a recasting: as though absolutely nothing had happened.

Except for Fraser.

Fraser's specific brand of parareal Canadian plot magic means that he's immune to the recasting blindness; he's acting as an agent of the viewer, voicing our non-diegetic concerns. Fraser is (as he so often is) a character with one foot outside of the narrative. He's just always been like this and he doesn't know why.

oh this man is infuriating and hot, fuck. shit.

And for a character who already thinks he is likely insane (he sees the ghost of his dead father! He communicates with his deaf half-wolf! He is instantly committed to a mental institution upon voicing the actual true story of his life!), this is very extremely distressing. Fraser thinks he's actually lost it this time, because everyone else in due South is acting like a TV character, and Benton Fraser is acting like a viewer.

This is so brilliant on so many levels. They just fully lampshade the damn thing. It allows our protagonist to speak for disgruntled or confused viewers. It engages at a postmodern level with television as a medium with a storied history (and due South is incredibly postmodern; nearly every episode is or contains a reference to another piece of media). It's written from the perspective of someone who loves and is knowledgeable about TV tropes.

And it gives us an entirely new Ray while still maintaining respect and loyalty to the original, something no other straight (lol) recast could ever do.

Genuinely one of the most clever, witty, well-crafted hours of television ever made. I could write essays about so many different parts of it. And I guess I will!!!!!!

It’s Burning Down the House week in our dS Stacked Rewatch!

[inexplicifics]

More snippet requests: Cats Among Wolves Cedric/Axel, Weird omegaverse war prize thing, Pirate Aiden & Prince Lambert

Cats Among Wolves Cedric & Axel:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning.

Weird omegaverse war prize thing:

The barbarian king sits on an unadorned stone throne on a low dais, glowering down at his court. He is almost as handsome as he is terrifying, with bone-white hair and glowing golden eyes and really remarkable chiseled features. He wears no mark of his rank, not even a circlet to bind back his hair, but Jaskier doesn’t think anyone could take him for anything but a king. His face is utterly impassive as he watches his warriors inspect their prizes.

Pirate!Aiden and Prince!Lambert

“Lovely, isn’t she?” Kett says after a minute. “She?” Lambert asks, wondering which of the sailors Kett means. “My Stripy Kitty,” Kett explains. “All ships are female.” “Why?” Lambert asks, frowning. It’s a boat. Kett chuckles. “Who the hell knows? Tradition, I guess. But she’s a beautiful bitch, my lovely Kitty.” “I know fuck-all about ships,” Lambert admits. “Want to learn?” Kett looks over to grin at him. “I bet we could make a sailor of you in a week.”

[catscraftsandcommentary]

I need Lambert/Milena in a Shrek AU.

Just imagine with me:

Duke de Roggeven insults a powerful wizard (we all know he would - he'd be lucky if it was only ONE) who then curses his daughters. All three of them.

(ETA: he pissed off Yennefer. Probably insulted her mixed elven heritage and/or her inability to have kids, so she went "alright. Let's see how you feel when YOUR daughters are inhuman and infertile monsters.")

By night, each of them transforms into a different non-human humanoid: Marta is a succubus (all her lust for power and a crown turned into a different kind of lust - and we'll pretend that succubi *can* live without sex, but they feel sick and hungry the whole time), Marika is an elf (still elegant and pretty, but inhuman enough to shock everyone - Marika didn't piss off Yennefer), and Milena is a witcher (Yennefer saw her strength and kindness and went "this suits you.")

Marta, of course, spends the entire time being FURIOUS at being some "sex obsessed half goat! I am the daughter of a DUKE! The ELDEST DAUGHTER! How dare she!" Marika isn't happy, per se, but she privately goes "it could be a LOT worse. I'll take it." Milena actually enjoys her new abilities - she's so strong! Her senses are much sharper! - and the eyes are rather pretty.

After being COMPLETELY HORRIFIED that his daughters (well, mostly Marta) are cursed to become non-humans by night, Duke de Roggeven locks them in a castle guarded by a dragon and then pretends that he's sent them abroad to stay with distant relatives.

Meanwhile, Marta is getting on EVERYONE'S last nerve with her constant bitching, Marika is trying to keep their lifestyle as pleasant as possible, and Milena...

Milena befriends the dragon. She thinks Villentretenmerth is fascinating, and when she learns that the three ladies who showed up to help the sisters are also dragons, she wants to learn as much as they can teach her.

(Marta refuses to acknowledge any of them. "I will not consort with beasts," she sniffs hautily, and locks herself in a private bedroom every night before sunset.)

So! Back in Redania, Duke de Roggeven has convinced everyone that Yennefer's line about "whoever breaks the curse will gain a treasure greater than gold or gems" means that they can gain literal treasure (and/or magical treasure) by rescuing and marrying his daughters, and not - to take an example COMPLETELY at random - their true love as a bride.

(Yes, true love is the cure. Of course it is.)

So the asshole king of Kaedwen hears about the supposed princess and holds a huge tournament - and Lambert shows up because "that fucker dumped a bunch of refugees in our mountains, the fucking bastard. Who does that?!"

Jaskier, being one of the refugees - and also a bard who can sense the potential for a good story - insists on coming with him. They 100% do the "Donkey won't stop singing until Shrek snaps at him to shut up - and then he hums" scene.

About five times.

(Geralt and Eskel either stayed home to help Vesemir manage the refugees or hang around the Kaedweni court to remind the king of his promise - and make sure he doesn't get any even WORSE ideas.)

(Lambert REFUSED to stay in Kaer Morhen when Vesemir was being bossy - "I get enough of him riding my damn ass during fucking winter, NO GODSDAMNED WAY." And his brothers very sensibly refused to let him stay in court longer than absolutely necessary because, uh, they've MET Lambert and they know exactly how badly it would go. So he gets rescue duty by default. At least the princess will be happy to get to Ard Carraigh and away from him. They send Jaskier with him to try to temper some of his, uh, Lambert-ness.)

Anyway! Lambert and Jaskier arrive at the tumbledown castle guarded by a dragon, and Jaskier is immediately like "oh how wonderful! How majestic! Look at that wingspan!" And Lambert is like "...remember how we're here to fight the bastard? We have to GET PAST HIM to rescue whatever noble bint got stuck out here."

Jaskier pouts.

Villentretenmerth finds all this terribly amusing, especially since he recognizes a witcher when he sees one. So he sticks his nose in their camp and asks (rumbles) "what makes you think that even a witcher can defeat the greatest and oldest of dragonkind?"

So Jaskier introduces them - as dramatically and fancily as possible - and states that they are here to rescue the princess.

Milena creeps out from Villentretenmerth's wing. "We are the daughters of the Duke de Roggeven, and there are three of us. I hope you will still take us home?"

Villentretenmerth sighs. This girl. Always getting underfoot. "I will let you take the ladies with you - but you must convince them to leave freely. If they refuse - now or later - I will take them back."

"He sent THREE girls to some remote fucking castle? Fucker. Yeah, I'll take you all. Jask, let's find 'em and get out of here."

So Milena leads them up to the tallest tower where her sisters spend their day. I can't decide if I want Marta to do the whole "sleeping beauty waiting for a kiss" thing (assuming that JASKIER is her princely rescuer and Lambert is just there as a guard.) If she does, she'll get a rude surprise when Lambert shakes her awake and tells her to pack anything she's taking with her, they're LEAVING.

So the guys get the ladies and lead them out - pretending to ignore the hissing and squabbling that said ladies are doing behind the men's backs - and are unhappily surprised AGAIN because not only are their rescuer(s) NOT a prince and his retinue, they don't even have HORSES.

The dragons, of course, are watching this with amusement...and no little relief at getting rid of Miss Complainer the Eldest.

I'm gonna say it takes less than two days for Marta and Lambert to have a truly nasty fight. She wants a horse. A private carriage, really, but she'll SETTLE for a horse. Purebred, obviously. And fashionable new dresses, and BATHS, and food cooked in an actual KITCHEN, and a private bedroom from sundown to sunrise, and...

Lambert is just like "look lady, I don't get any reward until I deliver you, I don't have the coin for any of that, and I wouldn't waste on stupid fucking luxuries if I did."

This does not go over well. At all. There are very angry words shouted about his lack of preparation, decorum, breeding, proper dress...the list is endless.

Lambert gives exactly zero shits.

Milena is watching the fight with interest - she finds him FASCINATING - and Marika is mostly trying to stay out of it. She agrees with Marta on most of the points - their tower-castle was reasonably comfortable, certainly more so than this long hike back to civilization - but also, freedom.

If only they were returning home instead of to a strange country...

Which is about when Villentretenmerth - as the human Borsch - walks into their camp, accompanied by the three dragon woman who have been tending to the sisters. "Marchionesses. Wolf. Bard. I warned you I would take the ladies back if they wished to leave your company."

"The TOWER is better than staying with this BARBARIAN," Marta sniffs. "And Father arranged for marriages for Marika and I already!"

(She knows she gets the crown prince - and she knows that Kaedwen's king is a murderous asshole. Being queen doesn't count if she's not alive to enjoy it...and she won't have allies there to help her plot regicide. She's ambitious, not stupid.)

Somehow, it works out that Borsch and his friends take Marta and Marika back while Lambert and Jaskier continue to Kaedwen with Milena. There is ABSOLUTELY a scene where Lambert is out hunting when bandits try to attack the supposedly unguarded noblewoman and bard, and Milena thoroughly kicks their ass.

Lambert runs back just in time to be HELLA aroused impressed at Milena. Jaskier is already composing an ode to her.

They arrive at Ard Carraigh. Stuck up knights send for the king, who pretends he's a decent person long enough to carry Milena off on a fancy horse. Half an hour later, just as Lambert is moping about losing his new friend, his brothers arrive and go "quick, where's the lady? We have to get out her out of here!"

A very confusing but short explanation-argument later, Eskel and Geralt are chasing after Lambert as he storms the royal palace BY HIMSELF, because like hell will he leave Milena to that monster!

The confrontation is absolutely the most dramatic thing Ard Carraigh has seen in decades, with the witchers storming in just after Milena is crowned but before she can kiss her new husband...

...whom Lambert immediately punches in the face. "HOW MANY WOMEN HAVE YOU KILLED?!? HOW MANY, ASSHOLE? Did you even bother to COUNT THEM?"

Everyone gasps. Eskel and Geralt keep the guards back with drawn swords.

"NO MORE! I *WILL NOT* let you murder Milena for your sick fucking games!"

The king tries to splutter something, but Lambert takes his head off before he can get it out.

And then the sun sets.

And Milena...changes.

Scars from her training with the dragons, greater muscles than any noblewoman should have, and her eyes...

She shrieks - not at the king's death or the witchers' violence, but at her own secret coming out. She's hidden it for so long, and so carefully...she'll never survive this. The Kaedweni court will turn her out, if they don't execute her with her (very briefly) husband -

And then Lambert takes her hand.

"Milena? Are you...okay? Did they hurt you? What happened?"

"I'm CURSED! My sisters and I are cursed - for years now!"

He looks at her. "Y'look fine to me. It suits you."

"Really?"

"I wouldn't lie to you. Never have, never will. And I think you look - good. Really good. The dress is kinda silly - "

Milena giggles. She thought the same thing, when her maids were lacing and buttoning her into the massive thing.

"But YOU are gorgeous. Always have been."

"You still like me? Even..."

"As mutated and scarred up as I am? I'd have to be a fool not to. You're the bravest, strongest, most amazing woman I've ever met."

And she kisses him. She has to, can't hold it back.

(Cue the curse breaking - and leaving her as a witcher.)

Obviously there's cleanup, but Milena IS the queen, and is suddenly betrothed to the man who killed the murderous previous king - so it works out.

And then Villentretenmerth comes back.

[spoonietimelordy]

This article is a bit spoilery but god it's a good read!

Screenshots of the interview under the cut

1. We got labels, jaskier is Pan.

2. Joey going all Tolkien here, laying out all of the universe's queer history. Was not expecting less 😎

This was cute as hell, I need an audio recording 😊

If Joey "allergic to social media" batey come fight you on twitter it means you've done some bad fucking things. But like, king move.

On a final note I cannot wait to see their story, I am so hyped you have no idea, I'm certain it's gonna be brilliant.

[buckera]

The thing about the whole radskier plotline and the expected betrayal and the whole stern king thing is... that I trust Joey.

Whatever will happen will not be any version of 'bury your gays' or 'my gay romance turned me evil'.

They both clearly have feelings for each other and whatever will happen will not be simple, but I highly doubt that Joey "7k words dissertation on authentic queer rep" Batey would let them do something that shitty to the characters and their romance.

He called them 'star-crossed lovers' which to me implies that circumstances will separate them, probably their loyalties lying elsewhere will make it hard on them and sure Radovid was probably there to distract Jaskier, but he wouldn't do that without a good reason.

Anyway all I'm saying is - it's gonna hurt, but I trust that it'll be handled delicately and also having my fingers crossed that they'll leave enough doors open for an on-and-off relationship for these two and for Hugh to come back in the upcoming seasons.

[greisekinderschar]

Alright, guys, it’s been more than six months but it is time for a Radskier meta essay on why their storyline isn’t as badly written as many people say. (Includes spoilers)

Is it rushed? Yes. It’s a side-story of a side character and actually Jaskier’s first side-story on the show. Is it cliché? Yes. When I first watched the season I was terrified about where their story would be going, knowing what happened in the book and knowing how mainstream media treats queer storylines. (I did not know about Joey’s deep involvement in the writing until later.) But once I knew how it all ended, I was entirely sold. Of course, that’s a question of taste, Radovid just turned out to incorporate so many tropes I am obsessed with, but I am trying to say that compared to the overall writing of the show, their story is not particularly badly written, which blew me away considering it’s a queer storyline in a mainstream medieval fantasy show.

Yes, they gave Jaskier a queer story for the sake of having a queer story. That was another reason I was very anxious about it. But what they (read: Joey, and let’s be honest, Hugh too) made of it is so exciting to me.

Here’s the thing about them ageing up Radovid and making him Vizimir’s brother. I have seen people complaining that they could’ve introduced an OC instead of changing source material like that. But to me, the fact they chose Radovid makes it so much more than a queer storyline for the sake of having a queer storyline. He’s the prince and later the king of Redania. He is entangled in the greater scheme of things. He is /on/ the same chessboard as the main characters. Turning him into Vizimir’s brother rather than son is way less forced than introducing an OC to be Jaskier’s love interest. Because he is more than Jaskier’s love interest. He is the King of Redania, played by Dijkstra and Philippa. Also, he cannot be killed off.

As I already said because it’s obvious, their story is rushed. That’s just the fate of side stories in TV shows (that are not masterfully written, lbr). But to me at least it is amazing how much they managed to convey in these few scenes.

You have Jaskier’s role as a spy for the Redanian Intelligence. That begins his own side story where he has a role of his own, that has nothing to do with Geralt. He meets this guy who actually appreciates his music and openly flirts with him, showing that he is desirable, something new to the character of the comic relief (although he is the romancer but you know, we never saw it on screen, also this time he is being romanced). He is suspicious, because he knows the Intelligence is not to be trusted, and the Prince of Redania is kind of the enemy. But he is also Jaskier, and his interest is caught. Besides this interest, Radovid’s suggestion to bring Ciri to supposed safety is right up Jaskier’s alley, because he is one to rather avoid battles if possible. He ponders on whether it is a possibility.

Later, he uses this vague connection to Radovid to have some agency of his own. He negotiates with him about Rience without discussing it with Geralt. He’s following his own plan, checking out the possibilities. He’s like alright, this guy at least pretends to be into me, let’s see if I can put that to good use to help Geralt. He sweeps Radovid off his feet with his ballad, and then Radovid says things that blow Jaskier away. He speaks of his talents, of determination to get to know more about him, of how Geralt should be grateful for his loyalty and friendship. Jaskier, the comic relief, has never heard this before. He’s Weak and he’s Wanting™️. But he still knows that he is Jaskier, easily fooled by romance, and that there are great things at stake. At the same time, Geralt is also treating him with more respect to make the decisions harder on him. But Radovid stays on his mind, he doesn’t know what to make of it and discusses it with Vespula, and she knows. She sees what’s going on.

Then, Radovid shows up while he is looking after Ciri. He is still suspicious. But Radovid is different from the last time he saw him. He is scared and he is vulnerable, and Jaskier can see that the mask is gone, and that what lies beneath it is not a villain. He is still cautious, until Radovid sings him his own song and he cannot take it any longer. He is giving in, and he struggles still as he does, but he is Jaskier. He’s Weak and he’s Wanting™️.

The next morning, he is not surprised. Of course, stupid Jaskier got himself fooled by some pretty eyes once again. Of course such blatant desire and affection for him could have only been a lie. He never knew romance like this and he does not hesitate to believe it was simply not real.

But then, he finds Radovid surrounded by his dead guards, alone. The people he was supposedly scheming with left him behind, so he was not all that involved, maybe he really was their puppet. He’s scared and he’s full of regret, he’s a helpless prince in the middle of the outbreak of a war, but he’s telling Jaskier to not waste more time on him because he knows he fucked up beyond redemption. But he’s Jaskier. He has endless capacity for forgiveness. And now that their plans had failed and Radovid has no more reason to lure him in, he’s still begging for a second chance. He still wants to be with him. He wants to prove himself to him, even if that means leaving the court behind. Jaskier has other priorities right now and he’s still hurt, but if there is a chance that this affection he never knew before was real, he is taking it.

And Radovid? He’s the spoiled prince brat, underestimated by everyone (just like Jaskier), and he’s riding that wave, because he does not really care about state affairs. He likes Jaskier’s music, and when he sees him he thinks he’s hella fine. He has his fun and at the same time tries to show Philippa he’s capable of more than she thinks, but he was not expecting that Jaskier would blow him away like that. That he would challenge him (the Prince), that he would be honest with him, that he would see through his act and by doing that NOT underestimate him. Radovid is Vibing and he decides to enter Dijkstra’s and Philippa’s game until he realizes he Fucked Up with his arrogance and being a prince is actually worth shit. He knew everything going on in the castle is pretense, but he was not prepared for this level of violence. He is terrified when he meets Jaskier, and Jaskier is good to him. And, again, honest. Unlike anything he had known up to now, the courtly schemes that had only recently culminated to him being scared for his life. He is still a spoiled brat prince and wants to be with Jaskier very badly, so he Fucks Up again. It is that last mistake that makes him understand his faults. But when he sees that Jaskier still does not hate him, he is determined to fix it, and he will do anything. Fuck being a prince, I will leave everything I know behind to show this man that my feelings were true.

Jaskier changes this man’s entire life and Radovid is willing to do everything for him. Yes, the idea to just go off and find him WHEREVER was kind of idiotic, but that’s the beauty of these two. They are both smart and idiotic at the same time, and they let their actions be led mainly by emotions, which sometimes adds up to the idiocy of it all. But Jaskier has more experience, and Radovid learns from him how to be less selfish, he grows as a person through knowing him.

So yes, the love-betrayal-redemption story is hollywood cliché, but it fits the characters and leads to interesting character growth. And honestly, as a queer woman I enjoy seeing some queers having a cliché storyline in a mainstream media piece. Geralt and Yennefer had a similar story. It raises the queer love story to the level of the hetero story. They struggle and they suffer just as much as anyone else, and they have something that connects them, a story that has potential to be continued in an interesting way. They don’t just exist as the obligatory queers, and their storyline isn’t inherently queer either, to a point where it feels like they’re only queer so Jaskier’s love interest can be the gods forsaken King. (At the same time, the story has queer coded themes, like having to pretend to be someone else, but the way it is portrayed, it can be relatable to non-queers as well.) The cliché of it all does not feel more cliché than other storylines on the show (to me). Its not queered cliché, it’s just a story, and I love that.

Also, Joey and Hugh have actual chemistry. And - and no one really argues with that - immense talent that filled these few scenes with so many layers in the first place. We owe it to Hugh that Radovid is not just a romantic interest, but a layered, flawed character (although Hugh attributes it to the writing but he’s too modest).

The last thing I want to say is that I feel we are generally overly critical of queer storylines, which is not a bad thing per se, because we know how many harmful storylines there are, but I struggle to see how this one is harmful in any way. You have to relate them to the straight romances. The straights will just randomly smile at each other and then they will date, but no one complains about it being rushed.

I am obviously not saying everyone has to ship them, I genuinely do not care. I just think it’s unfair to drag their storyline when it is nothing but normal that they didn’t have enough time for an elaborate story, but they (meaning Joey and Hugh) put a lot of work into making it a good one regardless, an effort no one would have put into a straight love story, because they would not have had to.

[thelostgirl21]

Dijkstra: You want to help? Go back to sucking on the royal teat until you're just drunk enough to forget this terrible tragedy. And keep your mouth shut. Because, next time, it could be your head in a box.

Radovid: Okay but, when you're saying 'royal teat', does that include other ranking nobles?

Dijsktra: What?!

Radovid: Well, the Queen just died, obviously; and technically, the only other royal left besides myself is my brother, and that'd be just weird... And I really can't suck on my own teat! So, would, say, a Viscount - especially one that has tits so spectacular they'd deserve their own Kingdom, and would make any Crown Prince blush - be considered 'royal enough', hypothetically speaking, in that scenario?

Dijkstra: *Pinching the bridge of his nose, mumbling.* Just... get out of here.

Radovid: *Sets out to go maliciously comply with the assignment.*

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 65

Masterlist

Chapter 64

Quick A/N: I know in the book, there was contention between the historians about whether or not Cregan Stark had a half-sister by the name of Sara Snow (if you read Fire and Blood, you know what I'm talking about), but for the sake of this story, I'm going to say Sara does exist in this universe.

-----------King's Landing: Maegor's Holdfast--------

Jaskier had never felt such relief in his life the moment he was led out of the dungeons and freed from his bonds. The Bard rubbed his wrists where the chains previously were, part of him wondering if his sister had managed to escape or not. He hadn't been given any recent updates on your whereabouts, so he was understandably concerned.

Although, if the fact he was released from the dungeons so suddenly without so much as an interrogation, the chances that you had escaped didn't seem all that likely.

Actually, right now, panic may have begun to settle when it occurred to Jaskier of the possibility that he might be led to an execution with no trial. 

"Greetings, Viscount," a male voice caught Jaskier's attention, making the man yelp and almost jump back in surprise. Larys Strong leaned against the wall, an undecipherable look on his face. "You really should not be sneaking up on people like that," Jaskier scolds, "you'll give someone a heart attack one of these days. You look familiar, have we met before?"

"Not exactly," Larys admits, "but I believe we share a mutual acquaintance in your sister." Jaskier put two and two together when he remembered his last visit to King's Landing, "You're that one fellow who helped bring Geralt here when he got lost somewhere up North. Lord Strange." "It's Strong, actually," Larys corrects, "Larys Strong, Lord of Harenhal at your service."

"Right," Jaskier says, "Larys Strong. I don't supposed you were the one who pulled strings to release me from my former lodgings."  "Much as I would like to take credit for such, I'm afraid that was not my doing," Larys admits, "That was accomplished by the Lady of Larks. It seems she has found a place in court once again. His Grace, the king has appointed her personal troubaritz to his children."

"Oh...ah, deja vu," Jaskier said, realizing the cycle was repeating itself, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say we've both gone back in time." "There is more," Larys continues, "the king has also seen fit to appoint you a position in his court, Viscount...as the court jester."

"What now?" Jaskier says, dumbfounded, "Court jest- are you shitting me?! I am not...I am a lot of things, a lover of people from lowborn and high, a composer of many famous songs and ballads, a member of a spy network for at least two different kingdoms, and an occasional drag performer. But this?!"

"If you allow me to further speak, I believe I can offer some reprieve from your new demeaning position," Larys offers. "What kind of reprieve, dare I ask?" Jaskier frowns a bit. "You mentioned you had experience in spy work," Larys explains, "and what better way to spy on the court inconspicuously then when you play the role of the royal fool?"

-------------meanwhile in the nursery-----------------

"What song would you like me to play for you, sweet prince?" you inquire of Jaehaerys as soon as you stepped into the nursery with Alicent following behind. "Wait one moment please," Jaehaerys says as he runs up the stairs.

You stand there waiting expectedly for the prince to return.

"Lady (y/n)," Alicent speaks up, gaining your attention. "Your Grace," you address back. "It is...good to see you again. I couldn't believe my own eyes seeing you, being back here of all places." You were silent for a bit before you answered the queen, "it is good to see you as well, Alicent, if we can be familiar with each other for the moment."

Alicent nods, giving permission.

"What is this I hear about my daughter turning traitor?" you ask, those words Otto spoke still ringing in your head.  "You...don't know?" Alicent frowns a bit, to which you shake your head. "I haven't seen Aemma since she returned to Westeros from the Continent," you admit. "She did tell me you were alive," Alicent admits, "but I must confess, I...had trouble believing it was so. I heard what befell you six years ago. I was sadden when that news reached my ears when it happened...and to hear you survived..." "To be fair, a lot of my friends and loved ones on the Continent had a hard time believing it as well," you say with some humor, "even my own brother couldn't believe his eyes."

Alicent made a small smile at that. She then proceeded to catch you up on the most recent events, from the passing of King Viserys, to the crowning of her son, which if you weren't already aware that Aegon was now king, you would've gone wide eyed from hearing that particular news. "So...Viserys saw fit to name his eldest son heir then?"

"It came as a shock to me as well," Alicent admits, "he spoke those words to me in the night before the Stranger came for him. It was what he wanted."

You fought the urge to give Alicent a rather incredulous look. For as long as you could remember, Rhaenyra was the uncontested heir, even when Viserys had more children, at least two of them being sons, and this was something Aemma had confirmed to you before the two of you parted ways. The fact that Viserys never changed the line of succession even after all this time- after two decades have past- and then for him to suddenly change his mind at the very last minute on his deathbed didn't make any sense to you.

But you keep those thoughts to yourself. You've seen first hand the lengths Otto was willing to go to use you as a hostage against Aemma for apparently saying similar thoughts out loud.

"And Aemma doesn't believe otherwise?" "I tried to reason with her," Alicent assures, "but she wouldn't listen. She still has it in her head that Rhaenyra is meant to sit the Iron Throne." "Where is Rhaenyra?" you ask. "Probably still on Dragonstone I wager," Alicent answers, "Along with...Prince Daemon." Alicent noted the way you went rigid at the mention of that name, "So it is true..." you heard her mutter.

Before you could ask her what that meant, Jaehaerys came down the steps with Jaehaera behind him, "it's the Lady of Larks," the boy whispers to his sister with excitement, "I told you she was here."

"Who is this?" you inquire of the prince, "this is my sister, Jaehaera," Jaehaerys introduces. Jaehaera first approached her grandmother, while still keeping her focus on you. "Go ahead, sweet girl," Alicent encourages. Jaehaera approached you, making a small, shy smile as she reached a hand to you, which you accept.

"So these are His Grace's  children," you state, "who is their mother, if I may ask?"

"Lady Lark," a strange voice catches your attention. A young woman with long blonde hair walks in the room, a baby in her arms, "you came back to us." "Helaena," Alicent tells you, which made you look at the woman in shock. "Helaena," you say back, "you really have grown. You were just a child last I saw you." "And now I have a children of my own," Helaena says with some pride in her voice, "you've met the twins. This here is Maelor, the youngest. Look, Maelor, it's the Lady of Larks." Maelor reached a tiny hand out to you, which made you smile.

"Will you sing to us now, Lady Lark?" Jaehaerys asks with glee.

"Alright," you nod. You take a seat nearby. Jaehaerys was quick to climb up onto your lap, clearly eager to hear you sing up close. You go along with it and begin to sing, hoping it wouldn't take long for the children to fall back to sleep. You decide to go with a simple ballad composed from a troubaritz whom you know resides in Novigrad (not exactly a song you overly enjoy given who the song was about, but you had hope it would get the job done).

As you hoped, the children slowing started nodding off, their eyes growing heavy as they began to fall asleep. Alicent surprisingly felt her own eyes become moist as you serenaded her grandchildren; it brought the dowager queen back to a time when she was still a girl, younger than Helaena, when she would sit beside Rhaenyra when you entertained the two with your songs.  It brought her back to a time before she was queen, when she was still young and innocent. When she was still known as the Lady Alicent. 

Things were so much simpler back then, and a considerable part of her wished it was that way once again.

What nobody in that room knew was that outside the nursery, Aegon stood by the door, listening to you sing to his children. Through the crack in the door, he could see the way you held his son while you sang, how your voice, sweet and gentle, brought great comfort to Jaehaerys and his siblings. He saw the way Maelor fell back to sleep in his mother's arms, comforted by your song, how Jaehaera leaned into her grandmother from feeling the same comfort. Even Helaena and Alicent looked much relaxed as your song filled the air, as if they could forget everything else that was going on right now.

He wondered if this was how you acquired your sobriquet as the Lady of Larks.

Aegon leaned against the door frame, careful not to put too much weight into it, also feeling like he could lose himself in your soothing siren's call, and he began to wonder if you sang similar songs to him back when you held residence in this place 16 years ago. Aegon felt an odd sense of peace in this moment...something he couldn't even remember the last time he ever felt, if indeed, there even was a last time. 

At last, the children were sound asleep. Once the same children were placed back into their beds, you deigned to speak to Alicent once more.

"If you would indulge me my curiosity, your Grace, where is your other son Prince Aemond?" "You met him?" Alicent asks with shock. "Back on the Continent," you confirm, "Aemma introduced me. He seemed...quite a studious young man. And though he tried to hide it, he seemed quite taken with Aemma, almost like he were smitten with her." "More than just smitten," Alicent admits, "Aemond was in love with her. He...he wanted to marry her." "What?" "He wanted to take Aemma to wife," Alicent repeats, "and I had given my blessing as I had once before...but that was before Aemma left for Dragonstone."

"Where is Aemond now?" "He should be in Storm's End by now," Alicent tells you, "treating with Lord Borros Baratheon to assure the man's loyalty and support for Aegon as king. And...Aemond was given explicit orders by my father to offer himself to take one of Borros' daughters to wife, whomever he will choose."

---------Winterfell--------------

"I trust you are enjoying the tour so far, princess," Sara Snow inquires, getting Aemma's attention off the cold momentarily.

Aemma pulled the fur cloak closer to her body, doing her best to retain whatever warmth was left as she was given a tour around the grounds of Winterfell, courtesy of Lord Stark's half-sister, while Jace and Cregan were off hunting in the nearby woods.

After receiving a proper welcome the day before, by the Lord of Winterfell, Jace and Aemma were shown to the guests chambers, which to Aemma's relief, were warmed up with a roaring fire going in the hearth and hot food and tea had already been brought to the tables by the servants. And also to Aemma's gratefulness, a hot bath was being prepared while she partook in her meal.

Definitely a luxurious upgrade compared to her winter lodgings in Kaer Morhen. Despite the cold exterior of the North, it seemed the halls of Winterfell were designed to be the complete opposite: warm and inviting.

The company was a bit of a mixed bag in that regards; some were warm and accepting to have a Targaryen prince and princess grace these halls, while others were a little more standoff-ish, only giving the bare minimum of courtesy. Cregan was surprisingly the most inviting of the welcoming committee, seeming to have found a kindred spirit in Jace of all people. Aemma, however, wasn't sure what Cregan thought of her. The Lord Stark had saw fit to observe the social courtesies and place a chaste kiss on Aemma's wrist after Jace introduced her to the man, as was expected. Apart from that, there wasn't much further interaction between her and the man whom she was to consider as her potential betrothed. 

Once inside the halls of Winterfell, Cregan then introduced Jace and Aemma to his half-sister Sara Snow, who seemed to take an instant liking to Aemma. Aemma was a little put off by this initially, but she found herself warming up to Sara, especially when the woman volunteered to offer Aemma a tour of Winterfell itself and around the grounds while the men went off hunting the next day. The two had much to bond over, one of the big ones that they were both base born, though Aemma found herself privileged in that she was declared true-born by the king, an opportunity that has yet to be presented to Sara.   "I like it so far," Aemma assures, still shivering a little as she pulled her fur cloak closer, grateful this part of the Northern ensemble was offered to keep warm, "I am, however, not so overly fond of the weather, if I am being honest." That statement had Sara giggling in response, "typical Southerner can't handle a little late summer weather." "I'm actually not a complete stranger to the cold but...this is summer weather?" Aemma frowns a bit, "I dare not even begin to imagine what winter is like in this part of the world." 

"Let's just say that once the winter does arrive, which it will, it will cover all you see," Sara tells her, "and all memories of warmth will be long forgotten."

"Is this a warning for if and when your Lord brother does consider Her Grace's offer to take me to wife?" Aemma ponder out loud, which she took note of the way Sara frowned at that statement. "Oh forgive me, I didn't mean to cause offense," Aemma hastily apologizes. "You do not wish to marry my brother?" "To be candid, your brother is as of now, one in a long line of men who have been considered as a potential marriage prospect," Aemma admits with some humor, "At this point, I'm just starting to make bets with myself with how long this betrothal would last. Also, to be even more honest, I'm not so sure Lord Stark even wants to marry me. He hasn't exactly made it known if  he even desires such a prospect." Sara was silent for a bit before she spoke up, a somber tone present, "Try not to take it so personally, princess. You have to understand. Cregan he...the loss of his lady wife, the late Arra Norrey, it still weighs heavily on him at times. Despite increasing pressure from his counsel to wed again, he has been reluctant." "He loved his lady wife," Aemma says in realization. "They were childhood friends," Sara tells her, "they grew up together. It was practically a match made in the Seven Heavens, as you Southerners would say." "I see," Aemma nods in understanding. It was similar to how she felt about Aemond. The two had also grown up together, were close friends, and if Destiny had been kinder, the two could also wed...if only certain recent events hadn't happen.

"If it's any consolation, princess, it did come as a surprise to Cregan that the Queen would offer you as a potential match," Sara changes the subject, "you...have garnered a reputation of sorts even as far as Winterfell." "Oh?" "The daughter of the Rogue Prince by a Continental troubaritz, the famed Lady of Larks," Sara explains, "And then the same princess disappeared for the last six years without so much as an explanation, only to reappear so suddenly. Princess Aemma the Wayward, is what I have some of the Northern lords refer to you as."

"I see," Aemma felt her face grow hot for some reason, not realizing her disappearance to the Continent would garner so much interest even all the way up North. "I don't suppose...you would like to indulge me of your little adventures," Sara asks. Aemma made a small smile, "Well, if you must know, I spent those lost years on the Continent, my mother's homelands." "Well you tell me more?" Sara presses, "I've heard some tales of those lands. That they are full of monsters...and witches." "I suppose I could tell you more of their lore," Aemma offers, "provided you can tell me more of the North. I do hear this place is...quite different from much of Westeros. A place filled with ancient magic, and of course I've...I've always wanted to know more about the Wall." 

So the two women exchanged stories and bonded further during their walk. Aemma had also deigned to introduce Sara to Cirillia, and also taught the Snow woman how to play Gwent inside the hall, which admittedly took Sara some time to figure it out, but with enough practice, she soon became well versed in the game.

Right around the time the sun was setting, Jace and Cregan had returned from their long day of hunting, and having brought in a bounty of birds and a couple deer, one for each presumably. Both men had smiles on their faces, even Cregan who still held an air of stoicism as he approached Aemma and Sara. 

This time, Aemma took note of the way Cregan eyed her medallion. For a brief moment, he seemed fascinated by her memento, and she was wondering why this was so. Had Cregan seen something similar at one point in his life perhaps?

Aemma brushed it off when she and Jace returned to the guest quarters to ready themselves for tonight's supper of fresh venison stew and fire roasted birds. "So, I take it you enjoyed your little hunting excursion then," Aemma comments. "More or less," Jace nods, "Lord Stark allowed me the honor of making the first kill when we spotted the first stag." "How nice," Aemma nods, "sounds like you and Lord Stark have gotten on quite well. Mayhap you should be the one to be betrothed to him instead."

Jace laughed a little at that statement. "No seriously," Aemma deadpans, "I have yet to break Lord Stark's icy exterior. Has he even taken an interest in me? Actually, is he even interested in marrying again?" "Well...I can't say for certain," Jace admits, "but he may have asked a question or two concerning you. I made sure to put in a good word for you where I could." "Gee, thanks," Aemma deadpans again to which Jace had to stifle a laugh. 

Jace noted the look on Aemma's face. Thinking back to what his mother told him, he spoke to his stepsister once more. "....mother did express a sense of urgency of securing an alliance with House Stark. We shouldn't lose sight of that." "I'm well aware of that, Jace," Aemma says through slight gritted teeth, which took Jace off guard. "Sorry," she says.

"Aemma...is there something you want to say?" "What makes you ask that?" "Well...you haven't exactly been yourself since coming back to Dragonstone...after speaking to your father when he dismissed everyone back in the council chambers." Aemma looked at Jace, wondering if Baela or Rhaena had said anything to him or Luke, if they deigned to disclose what she told her sisters. Additionally, she wasn't exactly looking forward to marrying anyone apart from the one she loved with all her heart, but she couldn't tell Jace that due in part to the fact the two of them were on one side of the conflict, the one man she loves is on the other side. If she were to say something, if she were to proclaim her love for Aemond, would Jace accuse her of treason?

"It's nothing," she assures her, "I'm aware of our objective, brother. I'm just not sure how to get to Lord Stark as easily as you have." Jace nods in understanding, having some idea of what he could- or more specifically what Aemma could do- to persuade Lord Stark to form a marriage pact with her.

The two part ways so as to get ready for supper tonight.

--------------- Meanwhile, elsewhere in Winterfell, Cregan had deigned to visit his son before readying himself for tonight's supper. He held little Rickon in his arms, the tot currently pulling strands of Cregan's dark hair, and then proceeding to poke at his father's face. Cregan playfully snapped his teeth at the intrusive fingers, causing Rickon to giggle in the process.

Looking at his son, Cregan could still bit and pieces of his late wife in Rickon, from his eyes to his smile. It still felt like only yesterday sometimes that Arra Norrey lost the fight to bring her child into this world.  It was a wound that would never fully heal, no matter how much time has passed.

When he had received word from Queen Rhaenyra that her eldest son and stepdaughter were making their way to Winterfell to treat with him, Cregan had been taken aback that Her Grace had offered Princess Aemma for a potential marriage pact should he make it official to uphold the oath his father made 20 years ago. While Cregan had every intention of upholding that same oath, regardless if a betrothal would be brokered or not, some on his counsel had seen it as a sign from the Old gods that he was meant to remarry, as this was around the same time said counsel was 'lightly' suggesting that Cregan considering marrying again so as to further secure his bloodline with more potential heirs. Sure, proposals from Northern ladies had been offered every now and again...but the fact he was given an offer for a Targaryen princess right around this time could not be seen as a sheer coincidence.

He didn't know Aemma all that well, and even among the Northerners, the wayward princess was considered something of an enigma. He knew she was the daughter of Prince Daemon with the Lady of Larks, whom the late Lord Stark had once said was the only good thing about coming to King's Landing, when he was summoned to swear obeisance to acknowledge Rhaenyra as the late king's true heir. Cregan had heard his father speak many good things of the Lady (y/n) and her singing which truly lived up to her moniker.  And Princess Aemma had reportedly possessed her mother's singing talent as well.

And, of course, there was the rumors that had spread to the North when Aemma disappeared without a trace, only to suddenly reappear six years later.

Still, Cregan wasn't sure what to make of Aemma. When the princess landed and dismounted her dragon, the first thing he took note of was her sword...and her medallion. The moment he caught sight of the silver necklace, Cregan felt himself flashing back to a moment in his childhood when he saw a similar trinket around the neck of a  strange man he discovered in the woods. A wounded man with hair, white as snow, and eyes like those of a wolf, and one who saved Cregan's life despite the strange man's injuries. From what little interaction they had, Aemma seemed like a honorable woman, and Jacaerys had nothing but good things to say of his stepsister despite her six year disappearance. Cregan found a kindred spirit in Jace, as the young prince reminded him much of his late younger brother, and Cregan was surprised he enjoyed himself hunting in the woods with Jace, forming something of a brotherhood between the two.

Cregan's contemplation was brought to a halt when the doors opened and his sister stepped in. "Am I interrupting?" Sara inquires, starting to make faces at Rickon as he made grabby hands towards his aunt. "Not at all," Cregan humors, "if anything, you saved me from this little pup's intrusive hands ripping loose strands from my scalp." Sara laughed and took Rickon from Cregan's arms. "I take you enjoyed the princess's company while I was away with the prince." "More or less," Sara nods, keeping her focus on her nephew before she turned to give Cregan a serious look, "I know you're not ready just yet...but I think if you were to cave into the pressure from your counsel...princess Aemma may not be the worst possible outcome."

Cregan was silent on that so Sara continued, "Well, if anything, I hear the princess has a talented singing voice. She could sing you to sleep every night. And to Rickon too." She boops Rickon on the nose, causing the boy to giggle. Cregan made a small smile at the interaction. His sister appears to approve of the princess...perhaps he should give her a chance as well.

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

The fire roared with life in the great hall as the food was served. Aemma and Jace sat at one side of the table with Cregan and Sara sitting on the other.

Much conversation was had, particularly between Jace and Cregan. Aemma had some conversation with Sara in between savoring the venison stew, made from the bounty of today's hunt. The mead and ale was served generously in between courses, which Aemma was grateful for, as it helped to warm her bones and would also aid in allowing her to sleep tonight.

"Princess Aemma," Cregan speaks up, getting Aemma's attention from her food for a brief moment, "your stepbrother tells me you have a gift for singing."

Aemma saw that certain look on Jace's face before she answered, "I have, on more than one occasion, been told that I have inherited my mother's gift for song, my Lord." "Your mother was the Lady of Larks, was she not?"  "She was my mother, yes," Aemma confirms, "you heard of her?" "My father was once summoned to King's Landing many years ago," Cregan explains, "he had the honor of listening to the Lady Lark's mysterious ballads and epics from her homelands across the eastern Continent. He said it was the only thing that made the journey to King's Landing all the worth while." "There are instruments here at your disposal," Cregan gestures to the musicians playing to entertain, "would you care to grace these halls with your voice, princess?"

Aemma noted a lute one musician was playing and thought of a Skellige based song she once learned during her time in Cidaris. So she stands and approaches, intending to oblige the Lord and his courtiers.

Aemma took the lute and tuned it some before she began her song:

As Aemma continued to sing, she kept her attention to the instrument in her hand, filtering out the stares that were she was surely receiving the moment she hummed the first note.

She didn't notice the way Cregan was looking at her at this moment.

Once Aemma finished, there was a brief moment of silence before the hall erupted with thunderous applause for her performance. 

Aemma resumed her seat at the table and finished what was left of her food and drink.

Conversation continued even after the meal was concluded, and Aemma found herself start to nod off a little, feeling tired from the long day she's had added with the amount of mead she's consumed with her meal tonight. "Princess," Cregan gains her attention, "are you well? You look as if you are about to pass out." "I'm fine, my lord," Aemma assures, "I may have overindulged with the ale tonight." Jace and Cregan both had humorous smiles on their faces from that explanation.

"Allow me to escort you back to the guest chambers then," Cregan offers. "I can do that," Jace says, "I don't wish to trouble you, my lord." "No trouble at all, my prince," Cregan assures, "you are my guests after all." "Much appreciated," Aemma says, allowing Cregan to lead her back to her rooms.

"You sang beautifully tonight, princess," Cregan complements as he led Aemma down the corridor, "I've never heard anything like it before." "Oh, it's nothing exceptional," Aemma says with modesty, "you should've heard my mother sing...my father once said hers was a voice so beautiful that the larks would stand silent to listen." "After what I heard tonight, I have some trouble believing your talent is nothing," Cregan lightly scoffs, to which Aemma smiled at the complement.

"You flatter me, my lord." "Not at all," Cregan assures, "...perhaps you would honor us further and grace these halls with your honeyed voice once again, and perhaps many more times after." Aemma looks up to Cregan, wondering if this was his way of implying he would consider the offer to take her to wife.

Aemma stopped in her tracks, which took Cregan by surprise. "Lord Stark," Aemma addresses, "I know...we have only met just each other. We are only strangers. Any marriage pact my stepmother the queen has offered would be nothing more than a political alliance should anything come of it." "Princess-" "I know about you and your late lady wife," Aemma blurts out, "uh, your sister told me. That the two of you grew up together, that you loved her, and...how much her death affected you so. I'll understand if this is not what you want, if you are not ready. I...I know something of what that feeling is like. There is someone I grew up with as well, that I love very much, and it would've been the greatest luck if we could've engaged in a similar union."

"...Are you referring to prince Jacaerys?" Cregan asks, tilting his head a little at Aemma's vague statement. "No, it's not Jace it's...someone else," Aemma tells him, "I would request that you don't ask me to elucidate any further." Cregan silently nods in understanding, "you are right, princess," he admits, "I am not yet ready to wed again. I loved Arra very much, we were nearly inseparable as children. She made a man of me. Her loss is a wound that will never fully heal."

There was another moment of silence before Cregan spoke again, "I had already intended to uphold the oath my father made to King Viserys 20 years ago, marriage pact, or none. Starks do not forget their oaths after all, no matter how much time has passed. But as Warden of the North, I still have other duties to oversee...Winter is Coming."

Hearing the words of House Stark uttered by the Lord of Winterfell, Aemma knew how serious those aspects of his life were at this point in time. "I understand," she says, looking to see she was now at the door to her chambers, "thank you for the escort, Lord Cregan. Goodnight."

"Princess, a moment," Cregan speaks, getting Aemma's attention, "I meant to ask earlier...that necklace of yours. Wherever did you get it?" Aemma was taken aback by Cregan's seemingly sudden curiosity for her medallion. She touched a finger to it before she answered, "it was a memento I acquired during my travels on the Continent. Why do you ask?"

"It...it looks familiar to a trinket I saw once when I was a boy," Cregan explains, "instead of a dragon, there was an engraving of a wolf." Now that peaked Aemma's interest, "where did you see such a trinket?" "Around the neck of a strange man I once saw in the woods," Cregan tells her, "at first I thought perhaps it was a daydream, but he was real."

"What made you think it was a daydream?" "I've never seen a man like him before," Cregan admits, "he...I wasn't entirely sure if he was human...or if he was a wolf wrapped in a human's skin. His eyes were an unnatural gold color...and his hair was white as snow." 

Upon hearing those words, it took a great deal of restraint on Aemma's part to conceal the shock she felt. Right on cue, she saw a moment into Cregan's past, back to when he was boy running in the woods. Cregan saw strange tracks, which he followed, and saw the strange man in question. To Aemma's shock and confirmation...that strange man was the White Wolf himself.

"Princess Aemma?" Cregan's voice brings Aemma back to the present, "Are you alright, princess, it looked as if you were going into some kind of trance."

"I'm...I appear to be more exhausted than I thought," Aemma offers for an excuse, "Again, I appreciate the escort, Lord Stark. And I am also grateful for the hospitality you have shown to me and Jacaerys. I must bid you good night now." 

Aemma hastily enters her chambers and closes the door before Cregan could have  a chance to ask anymore questions.

Chapter 66

[spielzeugkaiser]

A little S3 part 2 review! Spoilers under the cut.

- I quite enoyed it!! I had a lot of fun and I loved the last episode, they really turned it around there for me; I did have the feeling that at times the pacing was pretty off though? Maybe it was just me but for episode six Cahir coming around was pretty much without build up, some other things they lingered on, Riences and Tissias death was pretty fast, I felt a bit. Yanked around; like they didn't linger where I wanted them too but I saw a lot of shots of people running. Somewhere?? or Ciri eating Lizards 😂 (but I did watch it with my brother and he said it was his favourite episode because of the action, finally fight fight stabby stabby so I kind of see what they might have thought they needed to do there)

- Freya is getting better and better and Ciri really really grew on me as a character!! Her fight in the last episode, the build up of tension in the desert, that was g o o d. (Brother's comment: where are simon and pumba. I don't remember that scene from the lion king)

- JASKIER. MY LOVE. I love this season and it's an all time favourite because not only did he say 'he has to get back to his family' he was finally finally treated as such. By Geralt, by Yennefer, by Ciri (and included in the visions!!). Honestly that could have been my sole review because that is just the most important thing to me, what I always wanted from this show 😭 FOUND FAMILY. He finally has it 😭😭

- I know I called villainous Radovid (and. we might be getting there??) but his story is so much much more tragic that I ever thought it would be and I love it. I love the Radskier dynamic of Jaskier, of course not being able to stop to care, but also of Jaskier being distrustful and looking through him? GOD YES. THANK YOU.

- I thought Philippa would loose an eye or two but that might be Radovid once he finds out (that poor guy was desperate to get away, this is really tragic and. I dig it)

- uhhh Geralt?? Very good. LOVED his interaction with Jaskier, Milva and Yen this season. I still don't get how they want to pull of Liam?? There were a lot of, albeit silly, chances of them going 'oh it's the healing process' but they didn't? Which, hey. I HONESTLY prefer that they didn't do that. I said from the beginning simply switching them is by far less jarring. And it was a better send off for this season. I think they'll probably go some kind of 'deages because of the spell route'? The less they explain the better, probably 😅

- Yen was as gorgeous as ever. She is Ciris mom 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

- I loved everything about Geralt and Jaskier in Brokilon. I gotta say it again because it's just so true. Had me!!! From the beginning. This is the dynamic I always wanted to see 🥺👉👈

[dumbass---tm]

Lettenhove has been independent from Kerack for several years at this point, long enough that when the kingdom itself fizzled out Lettenhove kept its independency.

The King and the Queen were genuinely loved by their people, and they made sure that their domain was a safe haven for anybody who needed it. As the years passed, and the lineage continued, the kingdom grew a bit, but not by much.

The city's traditions are simple. Children tie their hair back with embroidered ribbons, and match them to their trousers or skirts. Teenagers trade their ribbons as signs of friendship or infatuation. Courting gifts are commonly personalised ribbons and bouquets or flowers.

The reason the small kingdom is so bright, so colourful, is something quite weird for this certain world. While most of the world frowns upon anything, ehm, queer, Lettenhove celebrates it.

It celebrates everything that people have to offer. It celebrates all the kinds of love that creatures experience. It celebrates the joys that people find after hard times, and celebrates the hard times people go through.

They welcome all and any creatures who won't harm others into their kingdom, and celebrate the diversity of their kingdom throughout festivals.

So, all in all, Lettenhove is a good place to call home, and Jaskier is more than happy that he grew up here.

okay so as anybody who looks at my page has noticed, ive fallen back into my witcher fixation.

now, if youre @nachtwaechterin or @atwerrundo you know about the au ive been brewing up.

so heres the formal introduction to (what is hopefully going to become a full fanfic) the extended pankartz family!

(i know that kerack stopped existing as a kingdom a few centuries post canon please ignore this thank you)

(as much as i like being lore accurate this is an au)

(were also ignoring season 3)

[joelslegalwhre]

Her Sweet Kiss

oh i would love to request one where the reader is the dragon queen (a bit like daenerys from game of thrones) and geralt is sent to kill her which he refuses in the end

(Requested on Wattpad)

pairing⁀➷ geralt of rivia x fem!dragon!reader

word count ⁀➷ 3.2k

summary ⁀➷ You're a golden dragon and the king sent Geralt to kill you… (I’m shit at summaries i’m sorry-)

warnings ⁀➷ spoilers for s1 ep6, violence, (short) mention of blood/wound, mention of killing someone, fighting, kissing, angst (not much)

a/n ⁀➷ As always pls tell me if I missed a warning! And if anyone knows why my “read more” messes with my text (it doubles the first paragraph) i’d be thrilled to know how to fix that🫢

Jaskiers song

🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷

Geralt came out of the cave, throwing some monster head right in front of the man's feet. You felt the fear the old man had of the white haired Witcher.

Geralt looked at him with a stern look, a little confused but still as if he'd rip the man's head off if he'd do anything stupid.

„I believe those are mine." He said in a low voice.

When the Witcher came down the small hill to his horse, the man hurriedly let the bag fall to the ground and ran away.

„This woman just killed a man with her bare hands for trying to steal your horse!" Jaskier shouted to Geralt.

You couldn't just walk past the men on your way to the village, already sensing the fight.

It really wasn't as dramatic as the bard told though, the man chose his fate when he chose to be ignorant and thought of himself as something better. Stealing a man's belongings, was the lowest another could do. And you didn't really want to have a bloody scene, so a snapped neck was the… well, best option.

The bard behind you was still in shock as he propped his hands to his sides and looked at the Witcher. Said one turned around and studied you with an intense look.

You just looked him straight in the eyes, a small smile spreading across your lips at his next words.

„Maybe she'll make a better travel companion, then." he dryly answered the bard, tilting his head to the side.

He put the bags back on his horse and turned around to you and the bard, Jaskier.

„Who are you?" he asked. You felt the curiosity he tried to hide as he asked.

„That is something you don't have to know." you answered sounding polite yet your answer clearly wasn't. But something about it made the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia as you knew, want to know more about you.

Normally he would just turn around and continue whatever he was onto. Not this time, though.

You smiled at Geralt. „I guess you'd like that back.” You threw one of his viles at him that had fallen out of the bag earlier. He caught it with ease, looking you up and down in surprise. Maybe there was even more to you than he could guess.

„Good luck with whatever you're doing!" you shouted, already continuing your way to the village. Jaskier's gaze followed you, his eyebrow raised, shaking his head.

„What the..." he mumbled to himself. Geralt on the other hand was completely thrown off by the way you behaved.

„Wait!" he shouted after you, his deep voice echoing through the air. Jaskier turned his head to Geralt. What had got into him? He never did anything like that, ever.

The strong white wolf, feared Witcher and butcher of Blaviken, shouting after a girl? Out of desperation? You clearly left Geralt completely and utterly confused.

The large door of the tavern opened, and Geralt entered, followed by Jaskier. "I'd like a fresh ale, thank you." Jaskier smiled at Geralt.

The tavern was packed, and the waiters ran back and forth in hurry. Neither of them wanted to wait that long. "Hmm." Gerald grumbled, but made his way to the bar anyway to order two mugs of ale.

"What.." the Witcher muttered to himself as he saw you. He had barely managed to banish you from his mind since you had left. As if in a trance, he walked away from the bar. "Witcher!" the barman called after him, who had already put down the two jugs. But Geralt no longer heard him, no longer wanted to hear him.

He followed after you without paying attention to anything around him. If the fabric of your orange dress hadn't had all his attention, it would have been easy to follow your irresistible scent.

You had already noticed Geralt when he entered the tavern with Jaskier. You led him to the back of the tavern, and opened a door that led into a corridor. Which contained several rooms to store food and drink or other supplies. With a light smile, you noticed that Geralt was still following you. Good.

Geralt didn't even look around as he pushed the door open, and it closed behind him. The voices became quieter, and he concentrated on the sounds of your footsteps. It smelled like old wood... and you.

You opened one of the doors. Not a moment later, you felt his presence close behind you. His breath on your neck and the strong smell he carried.

"I don't know why I can't resist you." he whispered in your ear, and his hair brushed your shoulder. "But I'm done trying to fight it."

You leaned your neck to the side and felt his lips, spreading feather-light kisses. No one needed to know about this encounter, you both agreed on that. He didn't need to leave any evidence behind to remember it. His hands grabbed your hips and urged you further into the chamber.

"Show me." you whispered challengingly. If he no longer wanted to suppress it, you wouldn't stop him.

Not a moment later, his lips met yours. Although there was so much desire in both of you, the kiss was anything but. It was breathtaking. It was gentle, quite in contrast to your desire. It was a sweet kiss. And it was so much more fitting than a wild or hard kiss. It was full of feelings neither of you would admit to.

His hands pulled you to him and your hands intertwined behind his neck. Never before had a kiss felt like this. But even in this kiss, you had to gasp for air at some point.

Neither of you moved. Geralt's hands still held you pressed against him as he looked down at you.

Something on your neck shone gold that he hadn't noticed before. It reached to your shoulder and disappeared under the fabric of your dress. It almost reminded him of dragon skin.

You knew what his gaze lingered on. "It's a birthmark," you whispered. He looked into your eyes.

"It's almost the same colour as your eyes." you added with a smile. His lips parted and closed again. Your hands wandered along his hair, and you twirled a small strand between your fingers. Geralt's gaze followed your every move before he looked you in the eyes again.

"I have to go now.” You whispered, standing on your toes and pressing one last kiss to his lips.

Geralt didn't open his eyes as you released yourself from his grip. Only when he heard the sound of jugs scraping over wood did he look up. With three empty jugs, you left the chamber and your footsteps echoed.

But what he only noticed now, how he could have missed it he didn’t know himself, was the wound on your arm. It looked like it had already been treated, but you still had a cloth covering it.

Geralt had his back to the door. But he couldn't help himself and took a step out of the door to look after you. With light steps, almost as if given wings, you walked along the corridor. But before you left, you looked over your shoulder at Geralt. You looked into his eyes and smiled.

Then you turned around and disappeared through the wooden door.

Geralt looked down at the floor and exhaled heavily. "Fuck." he growled.

When he returned to the table, Jaskier wasn't alone anymore. An old man and two worrier-looking women sat with him. Geralt's gaze went back and forth between the three and Jaskier. The table was set with pies, beer and wine.

"Ah Geralt, we were wondering where you've been." Jaskier announced cheerfully.

Geralt gave him a glance and sat down.

"What do you want?" Geralt grumbled.

„A short while ago, a dragon landed across the border in King Niedamir's mountains." the old men started, „I know what you're thinking. Impossible, dragons are so rare. But it's true. Locals spotted it and went after it in search of treasure. Of course, they succeeded only in wounding the creature. And angering it so righteously that it swooped down from its lair and set half a hillside ablaze.

„Hm."

„Dead sheep everywhere." he continued his story.

„Now, the King is in a blind. He's set to marry the princess of his rival kingdom, Malleore, which means it's bad timing to have a murderous pest lurking about in the mountains."

„What does this have to do with me?" Geralt knew exactly what this had to do with him, but the old man mustn't know that just yet.

„The king sent me to ask you to kill the dragon, dear Witcher.”

„You've wasted your breath." Geralt said. „I'll tell you what l've already told the king myself. he looked up, directly into the old man's eyes. „I don't kill dragons.”

What Geralt didn't tell him was that the king didn't order any dragon to be killed, he wanted the dragon queen dead. Shaking his head in disapproval, the old man sighed. „It's nothing I could do myself.” he chuckled. Geralt did not even seem to grin.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Jaskier interjected into the conversation. „Did you say dragon?" Geralt looked at him from the side,

„What people call green dragons', like the one we have here I suppose, they're the most common. Red dragons, less so. Black dragons are the rarest.” he explained.

„Gold dragons are the rarest." the old men stated.

„Gold dragons are a myth. For a gold dragon to exist, it would... have to be the result of... an accidental, unique mutation. And in my experience, mutations, they're intentional." Geralt said with a wry nod, "But it doesn't matter. Mutant or myth, gold dragons met the same fate as anything too different to endure. They died out." His gaze had turned to the table.

„Hello, Grandfather." you lean on the old man's shoulders from behind with a small smile. At the sound of your voice, Geralt's head shot up. Your eyes met, once again, and it felt like a storm was set free inside of you.

„Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Thank you so much. It's been very nice. Thank you for the wine and the pies, but as the man said, we really can't get involved.” Jaskier said with panic in his voice.

„Geralt, shall we?" he tried to ask the Witcher next to him. But when Geralt answered, his gaze lingered on you.

„l'm in.”

„Mother of. Jaskier sighed.

„What happened here?" Jaskier asked in shock as the two passed a mountain, completely burned down on one side. It was once, full of green grass and most likely many sheep.

„Dragons avoid people." Geralt murmured. „It should have left when they attacked.”

When they had reached the cave the dragon was supposed to be in, Jaskier stopped. „Uhm Geralt…" he breathed heavily. The Witcher turned to the bard and tilted his head slightly. „Wait here." he just said.

Ready to draw his sword at any time, Geralt slowly walked to the entrance of the cave. It was quiet, almost too quiet.

When he saw the dragons, even the Witcher stared for a moment.

He had expected one of the black dragons, or at least a red one. Not a green one.

The dragon laid there, one wing protectively in front of an egg. Behind the green dragon stood a black one protectively, but this one was male.

So he could hardly be the dragon queen the king wanted to get rid of. He came closer, still cautious, listening for any sounds. But when Geralt heard footsteps that could not belong to Jaskier, he drew his sword.

"Get. Away. From. Her." Geralt took a step back. He looked almost startled, surprise visible on his face.

"Hello again, Witcher." you said coldly.

"What are you doing here." It was no question, more likely a request to leave and not put yourself in danger. "Touch her, and I'll kill you." you threatened the Witcher.

The black dragon growled dangerously as you approached Geralt.

Cassius, your guard. He grew up with you in the Royal Court, back when everything was still there, nothing destroyed. He was not much older than you, and acted more like a brother than a guard most of the time.

When you heard his snort, you did not turn to him. "You can go." you said, still looking Geralt in the eyes.

Another growl. "I can handle this. Go now." He understood, this was an order. The green dragon was still lying in the same place when Cassius swept his wings and flew out of the cave through an opening in the ceiling.

"You should go., Witcher." Geralt didn't respond, instead he asked quietly in a raspy voice, "What are you?"

"Don't act like you don't know." You replied, almost a little hurt at the thought of what he would think of you.

Geralt took a step towards the dragon. And no matter what he wanted, no matter if he wanted to harm her or not, you could only see black and white at that moment. In seconds, you had a knife to his throat and were standing in front of him again. "Touch her and Jaskier will have to follow suit."

At that moment, as if you had summoned him, the bard came to the entrance of the cave. "Geralt, what is happening here? I have just seen a dra-" but he fell silent the moment he saw the Witcher with you.

Neither of you paid any attention to the bard.

Geralt turned so neatly that he had his arm around your neck and his hand took the knife from your hand.

"What on earth are you two doing here?" Jaskier stood there as if he no longer understood the world.

"Please." Geralt said softly, but that exactly was his weak spot. You ducked and twisted out of his grip, quick and swift enough to outwit the Witcher and his reactions. Quickly, you had your knife back in your hand. But instead of raising it to his throat again, you placed it at the level of his hip. Geralt looked at you, there was both astonishment and sadness in his gaze.

"Guys..." Jaskier called out to you.

You knew that Geralt would defeat you. Unless you threw him off his guard. He tilted his head, his lips opened and closed, just like he did in the tavern. And your next move was connected exactly with this thought. Geralt was still standing in front of you, he had thrown his sword on the ground when your knife had touched his throat, and there it still laid. He had no weapons except himself, which only confirmed that your idea would make him harmless for a few seconds. At least, you hoped so.

His lips had just closed again, and you didn't know if he would stop fighting or just start now.

Before he could do anything, though, you stood on your tiptoes, your dagger still at his hip. Your free hand reached for his neck and pulled him close enough to you. Then you placed your lips on his. The kiss almost captivated you yourself, and you had to concentrate to continue your plan. Geralt made a grumbling noise, surprised and completely thrown off balance. Just like you wanted. With all your strength, you broke away from him, breathing out heavily. Your lips trembled, it had indeed been a dirty trick. You looked at him apologetically and bit your lip. In the same movement, you turned to the dragon. You took a deep breath. Held it for a brief moment and then blew a protective wall of fire between the two of you and the dragon.

Your breathing became heavy and you swallowed. The fire made the golden scales on your neck glow. As you slowly turned to face Geralt, you could make out Jaskier at the entrance. You looked cautiously back and forth between the two of them. They couldn't hurt you. Their gazes, however, could.

"You're the dragon queen. The golden one." Geralt finally said it.

"The dragon queen?!" Jaskier commented in a shrill tone and shook his head disbelievingly to the right and then to the left."Damn.."

"Yes." your voice was no louder than a whisper as you looked the Witcher straight in the eyes. "But why did the king-" Jaskier started in a confused expression, but you interrupted him at the rage that boiled up inside you at the thought of the king, "King Niedamir hasn't even seen a dragon himself. He knows nothing!"

You walked out of the cave and Geralt followed you.

"No dragon has ever done anything to him. His men started the treasure hunts, they started hurting them,” your anger rose with each word, “He is just scared that he will pay for the things his men did to us." you said, one hand on your almost healed wound. "We don't start fights. But killing baby dragons, for treasure and gold?" You shook your head and tilted it slightly. "I can't let that happen."

You pursed your lips and closed your eyes for a moment, "The sheep- were just a warning. I never had the intention to do more."

Geralt had looked down on the ground while you told them everything. When you'd finished, his gaze found yours, and he exhaled.

You held out a small pouch to them, "Uhm, this is a dragon's tooth. The king won't know it's an old one." Geralt gently took the pouch from your hand, which was trembling slightly.

"Ehm, if I may-"

"It's not mine, Jaskier." you lightheartedly grinned at him.

"I'll tell the king we killed the dragon, and he'll leave you alone." Your gaze went back to Geralt, you nodded with a thankful smile.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Geralt?" you quietly asked.

"Ohhh, I see. l'I let you two alone. If anyone needs me I'll just.." Jaskier pointed at some rocks and turned around, walking away just far enough to let you have some privacy.

You wanted to say something about the kiss, but you decided against it. It wouldn't help either of you.

„Don't give up." your gaze became serious, and Geralt looked slightly thrown off. That seemed to happen around you more often than he liked. „She is out there. And you have to find her."

Carefully you took his hand and your fingers gently brushed over it.

„Please don't give up, Geralt. You and your child of surprise... are to safe us all."

Your gaze went to your linked hands. A sad smile on your lips as you let go of it. You exhaled. "Goodbye, Geralt of Rivia."

Geralt felt frozen in place. His back still in the direction you had gone. He didn't watch you go, he couldn't.

Jaskier's eyes widened as he looked past him.

„Geralt, you might want to see this." he almost whispered.

Geralt turned around. “What is-“ he grumbled but soon became silent at the sight.

The sight of a golden dragon flying away into the distance.

Geralt exhaled and looked after you until you were only a small point on the sky and then, gone.

The song about the charming girl, the one who was strong enough to fight and win against Geralt of Rivia, spread across the countries. Jaskier made sure it did.

The song about her sweet kiss.

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