#nilfgaard are mean

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 56

Jaskier's tears magically heal whatever they fall on. Whether he's blessed, or has fae blood, etc etc is all up to you Geralt learned when he had a certainly fatal injury and his bard cried over him, only for the wounds to miraculously lessen in intensity, to the point he could stitch them up and he'd be fine in a couple of days. The only issue is that certain enemies are getting word of Jaskier's abilities, and are now desperately seeking some way to steal Geralt's bard from him in order to use those powers for themselves.

[proheromidoriyashouto]

headcannon that Witchers are obligate carnivores and it means they can't just drink normal tea they have to brew that shit with bones in it or something or else it upsets their sensitive tummies.

like whenever Jaskier is brewing tea in camp and turns away for a second Geralt tosses in little bones he won't notice until its time to drink up and little pieces of white bone just plink into his cup. trying to get answers out of Geralt for something like this is a fool's errand so Jaskier just has to figure out why this is happening over time.

made all the more frustrating by Geralt getting miffed about Jaskier not eating the little bones and calling him wasteful and taking them for himself to eat. "the crunchy bits are the best part of tea."

but Geralt will not just call it soup. will not just ask for bone broth with herbs in it. it's "tea" and special "Witcher tea" when Jaskier won't let it go. and people think Jaskier is the dumb and pretty one of their pair.

but the other Witchers all do it to some degree, and if Jaskier wants a hot drink experience that doesn't taste wildy off and like shit he has to start just making broth or soups. crushed rosemary and garlic and a hefty helping of salt along with a big marrowy bone at least.

if he wants his own tea he has to brew it after Geralt is asleep or meditating or off on a hunt becaus he ALWAYS sneaks little bones or chunks of meat into it even when its only for Jaskier. he complains enough about it that Geralt buys a little tea pot Just For Jaskier that he promises not to mess with (but still does because surely the bard will die without animal fat and protein in every cup. Jaskier has to burst into tears for Geralt to stop in truth).

Geralt is delighted that tea is good now--he had no idea humans knew how to make a good Witcher tea! ah the bard has been holding out on him the strange little herbivore. glad he finally saw sense.

now if Jaskier would believe Geralt when he says he can't taste sweet things and stop trying to feed him pastry and wasting their hard earned coin on things that aren't even real. like sugar.

Ciri gets bit by a tick when she's on the run from Nilfgaard the first time and becomes deathly allergic to meat and it is SO upsetting to the Witchers. why even live.

[janjan-the-ninth]

There is no homophobia in The Witcher Netflix universe and I love this for us!

And I don't mean the Radskier kiss or Philippa and Eve having sex behind closed doors. I mean a far reaching lack of homophobia/persecution of queerness.

In s3 we have a dwarf woman casually mentioning her wife to the fucking emperor of Nilfgaard. And the tavern lady at the spy execution scene mentions out in the open to an emissary of the Redanian crown that she wouldn't mind a tumble in the hay with Yennefer.

Queerness appears to be an everyday occurance in the witcher netflix universe to the point that characters mention it without any fear to people who have power over them.

[blood-inthefields]

Summary of all my Yennefer/Tissaia fanfics so far...

♠ All we are (is dust in the wind) ¬ It takes four days for Tissaia to find Yennefer after the battle of Sodden.

♠ Pynk (is where it all starts) ¬ In which hot-shot lawyer Tissaia de Vries unknowingly walks into a strip-club and finds herself hypnotized by one of the dancers there. Not how she’d planned her evening to go.

♠ Get naked (i got a plan) ¬ The phone rang, drawing her attention. With a sigh, she picked it up. “Phil, is that you?” Distorted by the line, a muffled voice answered her. “Johnny got clipped.” Tissaia’s hand balled into a fist. “You know what to do,” she replied curtly. The line went dead. She hung up, ran a hand through her hair. A bath would do her good. And then she would go find Yennefer. 

1920s AU.

♠ I’m your sinner (and your whore) ft. JZXR7 ¬ Due to circumstances entirely beyond Tissaia’s control (Yennefer. Due to Yennefer), she’s found herself trapped in her bedroom with a human whirlwind during a minor pandemic.

She has decided, in all her collected wisdom as Rectoress, that the girl has ten minutes to stop talking before Tissaia takes drastic measures.

♠ Want you, yes i do (bet you never knew it) ¬ The first time that Yennefer considers throwing Tissaia on a bed is in Rinde.

♠ I’ll be loving you (til the end of the night) ¬ Tissaia comes home after a hard day at work to find that her girlfriend has a couple of surprises in store.

♠ The one where Tissaia is a freestyle dance teacher ¬ “It’s Tissaia,” Triss told her, concern evident in her voice.

“What’s with her?”

Now closer to the window, Yennefer leaned forwards and watched as her former mentor, way down below, was shaking her arms and upper body in very strange ways. Had the woman finally lost it?

♠ I will let you down (i will make you hurt) ¬ She feels the blade against her throat before she’s even done with her sentence. Tissaia remains calm, despite the cold metal piercing the skin ever so lightly. Something warm runs down her pale skin and she knows it’s blood. Still, her eyes never leave Yennefer’s.

“Why,” Yennefer begins, almost shouting, as she stalks forward until she’s all up in Tissaia’s face. “Why did you let them send me to Nilfgaard?”

♠ My immoral ft. thinkbucket ¬ What’s up preps, I’m Yennefer Fireball Darkness Purple Mist Vengerberg and I’m a teacher at Aretuza.

or, a parody of legendary fanfiction My Immortal.

♠ Didn’t wanna believe it (but now you are all I see) ¬ It’s on their third date that everything goes to shit. In hindsight Tissaia should have known crushing hard on the whirlwind that is Yennefer would mean her life would be turned upside down. However, she had never imagined it would land her in jail.

♠ And now the surface ripples¬ She’s been scouring the Continent, desperate for a cure for her barrenness when word reaches her.

Tissaia de Vries is dead.

♠Find my place (in the warmth of your embrace)¬ A look at some entries of Tissaia’s diaries about her ever-evolving relationship with Yennefer.

♠ Stay a while (and be mine) ¬  Post Sodden Hill, Yennefer and Tissaia are back at Aretuza. One night changes their relationship forever.

♠ After hours ¬ Could the torture be any worse? Yennefer wondered. It was bad enough to have to spend entire days with Tissaia stuck in a classroom together with noisy, dirty children but being around her after the day was over and the children and other teachers had left was pure torture.

♠ Wanna kiss you (til I lose my breath)¬ The woman is not just a powerful sorceress, she’s an absolute witch and Yennefer tries to hide but it feels pointless. One look from Tissaia and she becomes an open book.

♠ I will reach for you (when you’re feeling low) ¬ Set in 2.03 after Yennefer shows up at Aretuza and gives Tissaia a gay heart attack.

They know, they all know what Yennefer means to her, how long she’s spent trying to find her.

♠ I used to float (now I just fall down) ¬ Post 3.08. Petals descending from the ceiling. Yennefer knew right away it was Tissaia, from way above up in her study, honoring her fallen girls. She looked at them, admired how they fell silently to cover the freshly dug graves.

Then the pain came.

Sharp, burning, unexpected.

Yennefer gasped.

♠ For neither ever nor never (goodbye) ¬ Missing scene from 3.08. Drabble.

♠ This is a glove story ¬ Tissaia receives a gift.

♠ If you wanna go (then I'll be so lonely) ¬ When she finds Tissaia on the floor surrounded by her own blood, Yennefer’s first instinct is to run to her, so she does. Her knees sink to the floor and she wails, cradling Tissaia’s body, hovering over her as if to shield her from harm. But the harm is done, and Tissaia’s the culprit, and Yennefer curses her name.

♠ Sinking fangs (into pumpkin delights) ¬ It is Halloween and Tissaia's been invited to a party where she meets a bewitching stranger… one that could potentially bite her, if asked nicely.

♠ Somewhere in the darnkess (us together for a while) ¬

“You’re playing with fire, Yennefer,” Tissaia warned, a hint of regret in her voice.

The younger mage closed the small gap between them, gently but firmly grabbing Tissaia’s hands with hers.

“Maybe I've always been drawn to the flames,” she replied, her eyes never leaving Tissaia’s.

♠ Do not stand by my grave and weep (I am not there, I do not sleep) ¬

“What did she mean to her,” Ciri bluntly asks after a while. The question’s escaped her but now she can’t take it back. She wishes she could when Geralt remains quiet and a slight frown appears on his face. He doesn’t know, she realizes. Or he does not want to tell her.

And that, in itself, is the beginning of an answer.

♠ Oh, my lover (you made me feel like no other) ¬ Freshly divorced, British architect Tissaia de Vries embarks on a journey to Italy where she finds herself caught in a whirlwind romance with a beautiful and enigmatic young gondolier.

[stellanimarum]

@maasmuse​ whoops? 

Maggie sat in her quarters, hands wringing nervously together to try and ease her anxiety. She’d seen her husband be dragged away to gods knows where, but they just locked her in here, waiting for an audience with their commander who wished to set his sights on her. Would they kill her too? No - worse. Her Nilfgaardian was weak at best but she understood what they had said near enough. The commander She felt sick, her husband was a good if not dull man but like most...he was proud. Nilfgaard would not spare him. She knew that in her gut.  --- Unfortunately, she proved to be right when the commander decided a pretty noble wife even if they were northern would be a good prize. She despised him and every moment forced to meet with him. He hadn’t laid a hand on her yet but her gut knew he would. She wanted to run from this but where to? She’d either get caught or die or be harmed from some other means by herself. She was trapped here. All she could hope for would be him hurrying up the marrying process now that her courses had not arrived twice. For the unborn child’s sake, he had to think it was his when she was discovered. 

[essskel]

Francesca Findabair and her eternal symbology. Man. To Nilfgaard she’s the symbol of Elven alliance, to the Lodge she’s Dol Blathnna’s complacency and the encyclopedia of Ciri’s bloodline, to the elder races she’s the image of bourgeois betrayal of the oppressed common people, to the Elven aristocracy she’s a call to power, to her father she’s the failure of the liberal youth, to the scoiatael she’s proof of Nilfgaard’s final betrayal, she’s a metaphor for everything but she’s unable to act!!!! Even within the narrative she’s a means to deliver exposition and prompt emotion in other characters!!!!! She’s known for her beauty she lives behind a window she exists to be stared at and contemplated she’s nothing she’s everything!!!!!!!!!!!

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

“What do you want, warrior?”

The man soaked in blood grinned. His eyes were black, his skin was snowy, and the veins in his face and exposed hands pulsed with dark power; but he was no witcher. He couldn’t be. His grip on the silver-bladed sword was awkward, unused to the weight. He did not have the build of a monster-killer. If not for the magic, and the blood, he would look weak.

“I want my witcher, of course,” he rasped.

The lord scoffed and sipped his wine. “You cannot have him, and you will die if you continue this foolish quest,” he said flatly. “You may have cut your way through my men to reach here, but you are human. Humans cannot contain witcher magic. Do you want to die?”

The man laughed. It was a hideous sound, loud and rough and mad. The lord frowned, and squinted, looking closer. It was hard to tell, when the man was so far away, but…

The cup slipped from his suddenly cold hand.

“Yes,” the man soaked in blood said, his grin that of a madman who died a long, long time ago. “But it will be by his hand, and no one else’s. No one said I was human.”

“Jules,” the lord gasped.

“No. My name is Jaskier. Now give me my witcher, Father.”

~

Geralt pressed his fingers to his eyes again, gritting his teeth. He still wasn’t used to the hazy shadows where his vision used to be. Luckily the torturer was inexperienced; Geralt wasn’t fully blind. Yet.

His fingertips brushed gingerly against the raw, puffy scar at the corner of his right eye. He knew it was only a matter of time before they gouged the organs out of his head. He would fight, of course. He would kill. But his eyes were less important than--

The stench of blood. Metal and sweat. Rage. Witcher potions.

Linseed oil. Buttercups.

The sea.

Geralt attempted to stand, but his feet were still healing. His heart was beating too fast. He turned his head, towards the dim square of light that was the window of his cell. Surely not…

“Jaskier?” he whispered.

The lock clicked. The door opened. Geralt took a deep breath, and tasted the flat, salty-sweet tang of blood and offal. Under it was Jaskier, though—unmistakably his bard.

“Jask,” he repeated, and lurched to his feet. The form in the light gasped, then rushed forward to embrace him. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier and held him too tightly, trembling with relief. Alive. Safe. Maybe the gods existed. Maybe Destiny had taken pity on him.

But… why did Jaskier smell like witcher?

Pulling away, Jaskier pressed a vial and a sword hilt into Geralt’s hands. Geralt sniffed the bottle as his fingers curled into the familiar indentations of the leather grip. Swallow. Potent. Too potent. It would make him sick to drink it.

“I need you to kill a monster,” Jaskier said.

Geralt felt a feral grin spread across his face. “Give me a scent,” he replied, “And their head will be yours.”

Jaskier held a piece of fabric up to his face. Geralt breathed in deeply, and growled in hate and anticipation. He knew that scent. It was carved into his memory as deeply as the voices of his brothers.

“He’s wounded,” Jaskier told him. “Not enough to slow him down, but enough to cause upset. Can you smell him, Wolf?”

“I smell him,” Geralt hissed, popping the cork from the bottle of Swallow.

“He’s all yours, my dear. I’ll clean up the trash behind you.”

Geralt growled again, drank the potion, and darted around Jaskier. A monster to slay, for his bard. There was no task better suited to him.

~~\0/~~

Ten Years Previously

It was a fine thing, to be free and untethered. Truly he was meant to exist this way.

But Jaskier had tasted the stability of love, and now he could not be satisfied with the adrenaline of lust. So he waited at the inn for Geralt to finish his latest contract, instead of leaving for the nearest court or brothel—one and the same, truly. Full of rich men paying for the use of others’ bodies. And Jaskier was tired of it all.

Nilfgaard had fallen. Cintra had been restored. That didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters to clean up—both beast and man. Whilst Geralt specialized in the former, Jaskier concentrated on the latter. Like now, as he wrote a letter to a contact in Redania containing coded and magicked information. The old men who called this backwater village home were good at hiding, but their soldiers were not. Jaskier had seen them, and their weapons, and their fine steeds. And their sorceress.

She was good, but Yennefer was better. And with the entire force of her Lodge behind her, she could easily sway the woman to give up her lord and his sons. Jaskier allowed himself a small smile as he signed the letter with a tiny bird. Yennefer still wasn’t his favorite person, but only because she wasn’t Geralt. Other than that small detail, there was no one he trusted more.

With the three of them on the trail, Ciri wouldn’t have an enemy on the entire continent within a decade.

Not that she knew the extent of her parents’ goals. The last time Jaskier had seen Ciri, she had laughed that they were all too protective of her. She was a woman grown, with a wife and a place as a weapons-teacher. It didn’t matter how grown she was, though. Not to them.

Jaskier frowned. It was wrong of him to be so protective of her, when he wasn’t even her father. But he would still burn the world to the ground in her name. Was this how her grandmother had maintained her station? This blind loyalty that ensnared the hearts of the powerful until they couldn’t imagine a world without her?

Did it matter? They would root out every speck of conspiracy, to keep her safe. They would kill everyone they had to.

Jaskier pushed himself to his feet abruptly and paced the room. These thoughts, though frequent, and often quite logical, frightened him. He had asked Yennefer to poke about in his head to find any seed of madness in him, but she had said there was nothing other than what all men had. Jaskier had not been violent when he was younger.

When he was ignorant.

He sighed, and sat again. Nothing for it. He’d have to hope Geralt came back without wounds, so they could spar, or fuck, or both.

“I do so wish I understood what’s happened to me,” he murmured, leaning his chin in his hand. “There’s so much beauty and delight in this world, and yet the one thing that doesn’t move me is death. Hmm.”

“Is that so, little one?”

Jaskier shot to his feet and whipped around, his hand going to his dagger. In the corner was a shadow, undulating, covered in eyes of green fire. The lights of the candles and setting sun seemed to leech away into the inky dark of the shadow. The scent of ancient blood on cold stone filled the room.

Jaskier scowled and took his hand from the dagger’s hilt. “Mother,” he said dryly, and bowed. “Stop sneaking around like that.”

A wet chuckle, like a drowned person choking, and the shadow resolved into a tall, broad woman clothed in rags. She smiled, baring her fangs endlessly stained in blood. “But it is so fun, my dear boy,” she cooed, cupping Jaskier’s face in her sea-cold hands. “You are just as easy to frighten as your father. What funny creatures, men.”

“What do you need, Mother?” Jaskier asked. “We’re quite a ways away from the sea. A goddess of sirens should be with her people, in the waters.”

Her smile grew soft, her enormous wings mantling around them both as she pulled Jaskier into a gentle embrace. He hugged her back immediately, breathing her salty scent deeply. He’d missed her. Only a year, and he’d missed his mother, the daughter of Storms and Death.

“I need you to promise not to hate me,” she murmured.

“I could never hate you, Mother,” Jaskier replied.

“Not even if I granted your wish to know?”

“No. Your blood is in my veins. You know I want more than is good for me, always.”

She laughed again. “The sea takes, and takes, and takes, and gives but rarely. It is time I tell you.” She pulled back enough to tilt his face up to look into her eyes of storm-fire. Her expression and voice were gentle as she said, “My blood is in your veins. It is awakening. I am fading, and soon you will take my place, the lord of death at sea.”

Jaskier went cold. “Mother…”

“Hush. I am losing power. It is a cycle, like the tides. I Saw your coming fifty years ago, and that is why I seduced your father, married him in the way of humans, and bore you. Now you are coming into your own. You will take my place and feast on those who trespass in our beloved ocean. Do not be sad, my pearl. I am not dying. I will simply go where the ones before me went.”

“Mother.” Jaskier licked his lips, gathering his courage. “Mother, I can’t leave Geralt.”

His mother smiled indulgently. “You needn’t leave him. You can keep him in the depths, like my father kept my mother. You can even let your little sorceress friend visit once a moon. But you must come home when I fade. You must take up the chalice. There are too many humans who seek to tame the sea. They must remember why they worship us.”

“I’m not god material.”

“Neither was I. It comes to you. Don’t you feel it, my pearl? That jealous love. That lust for the blood of those who hurt those closest to you. That is the sea within you. Answer the call of the sea.”

[bomberqueen17]

snippet post

I'm in the editing mines, lol. But I was writing a Lu POV chapter and Morvran was acting funny so I was like ok I have to know why he's in this mood or whether I need to rewrite this, so I went in and wrote, just to throw away, his immediately-preceding conversation with Kalia, Ciri's household manager and a fellow Intelligence operative.

And this is something I'd put in earlier in the series, from Ciri's POV, but it seems relevant that Morvran is aware of it now. So I'm putting it here to preserve it, as this isn't a scene that's going to go into the main continuity anyway. And I wanted to post something as a proof of life, LOL.

Kalia considered that a moment, then snorted. “Morvran, it’s not like she’s going to marry someone else.” He glanced up at her, startled by her bluntness, and Kalia gestured widely with one hand. “You think any of the other candidates haven’t committed war crimes?” Morvran blinked, trying to determine whether he knew that for a fact or not. “Well,” he said. “Would any of them write up a report about them?” she asked. “Have any of them even made an effort to get to know her?” “Kalia,” he said, exasperated. “I’m not competing with the other candidates.” It wasn’t until he said it that he knew it was true. “I”m competing with her not choosing anyone. She doesn’t need me. She doesn’t need anyone. If she doesn’t find someone to marry she can just leave. And then we’ll have another fucking civil war.”

For a separate conversation I had to go look up the name I'd made up for Morvran's little brother and in so doing I wound up rereading most of the FFP series so I'm finding all kinds of shit I've already said in there. Ciri had the exact thought above very early on, before she even arrived in Nilfgaard I think. But she didn't say so. (And yes, i'd meant initially to have there be more suspense over the other candidates, but then I just didn't create any good characters, so that fell by the wayside. It's fine, LOL, I don't think anyone really needed that to be a side plot. There's still room for someone cool to pop up. We'll see if I get to it.)

As I was rereading, I remembered that I made a deliberate choice sometime during the pandemic: I realized that it would take longer for me to edit and cut down the story to make the pacing taut, and given the givens of what was going on in the world, I wasn't going to do that. I was just going to post the long sprawling story as it was. And I've stuck to that. So it's just. This long sprawl with all these meandery side bits, and as part of that yeah, some stuff is kind of repeated.

I know it's working for a bunch of readers, and it's working for me, but sometimes I'm like oh my god why is this so long why didn't i make myself a style sheet why didn't i edit anything down ever. So, LOL, if you've ever been like hmmmm this story is getting kind of long, well you're not the first to have that thought. I used to treat fanfic as like, "practice" for "real" writing (publishing original works), which is still a thing I'd love to do and may well someday, and I know nothing published as an original work is going to sprawl like this, and the worldbuilding would be all different, but you know, it's not like I'm not learning stuff from sprawling like this. It's been a fun ride and I'm not done yet. But that doesn't mean there won't be deleted scenes; I can't include this conversation with Morvran and Kalia simply because the pacing of the chapter works better starting with the other POV, and it's not worth trying to shoehorn in a flashback.

(This is also making me remember another decision I made in the fog of lockdown, which was that I had to stop replying to comments temporarily, because I had such limited time and realized I was spending it all in lovely conversations in the comments instead of writing more material, and while that wasn't bad per se, I really needed to tell the rest of the story. And I still haven't gone back to catch up on replying to comments and I feel guilty about that. So if you've left lovely comments and I haven't answered that's why, there's a three-year backlog at this point, and I've answered a few but it's not necessarily because they were the best, it's more that they came in during a moment when I had time, spoons, attention, and mostly, just happened to click through and do the thing and hit post. Alas.)

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 54

Masterlist

Chapter 53

"I'm so happy to have you here again, Aemma," you say, more tears spilling out as you continue to embrace your daughter. Geralt and Jaskier had run off to check to see how things were back in Loc Muinne, now that things had become utter chaos with the arrival of Nilfgaard's armies.

"I'm so happy to see you as well, mother," Aemma says, moving closer to you. You nuzzle her head, feeling her soft hair, but taking notice of its length, "your hair is a lot shorter than last I saw this," you joke, placing a loose strand behind her ears. "It has been 16 years," Aemma jokes, making you chuckle in response. "Yes it has," you nod, placing a kiss on her brow, "We have so much to talk about. So much to catch up on. I don't even know where to start."

Aemma thought about it. There was so much to talk about. Now that her mother was here, Aemma could now finally ask about the truth of her parents' relationship. Though, Aemma already had a good idea at this point that it was not as good or romanticized as her father had made it out to be. What if her mother wasn't ready to talk about those things yet, especially now the two of you were reunited, it might sour such a tremendous moment.

Aemma decided in her mind to save those questions for a little later. She's waited this long, she can wait a little longer. There were other things she wanted to ask and get to know her mother a little better.

"Maybe...we could talk about your adventures on the Continent," Aemma suggests. "We could," you nod in agreement, "Or we could talk about what your life has been like back in Westeros while I was gone."

Aemma felt her mouth fall agape at the suggestion for a brief moment, "Well uh..."

Sounds of commotion in Loc Muinne got your attention, interrupting the conversation. You pull Aemma instinctively as if to protect her. "Maybe this may not be the best place to talk about these things," you say. "We should get out of here," Aemma suggests, "We can regroup back to Vergen." "Vergen?" "I'll explain on the way there," Aemma assures, "but we should go find Geralt and Jaskier first." 

"What have you been up to this whole time, little love?" you inquire in a joking matter as you start the trek. You didn't too far as the moment you and Aemma started walking, a burly looking man stepped in the way of your path. Eyes wide, Aemma got in front of you, acted like she was fixing to draw a sword, but realized she didn't have one. "Run mother!" she insists.

"Hold!" the witcher Letho reaches out, "be at ease, princess. I have no wish to harm you. Not this time anyway." "This time?" you give Letho a hard look, which soften a bit, when you got a good look at him, "wait a minute, have...have we met each other somewhere before?" "Mother?" "It's a long story," Letho says, "go ask Geralt, he'll know more. I have more pressing things to say to the princess. And to show I mean no ill-will, I come bearing gifts."

Letho pulled out a sheathed sword along with a silver dagger and a silver medallion of a three-headed dragon. "Those are my things," Aemma realized, "Radovid confiscated them." "I managed to swipe them before he and his soldiers fled Loc Muinne," Letho explains, "it's a dangerous thing, after all, for a woman to travel this world alone." Aemma gave Letho an incredulous look but accepted his peace offering all the same. She took the dagger and gave it to you, "It's my dagger," you recognize, "I...I left this back in the Red Keep that night I..." you stop yourself, looking at your daughter. "We can explain this later," Aemma assures, giving one look at the witcher, "I'll hear what you have to say." "Aemma, are you sure?" "I am," Aemma nods, "I'll be alright, mother, I can handle myself. Go find Geralt and Jaskier."

You nod, trusting your daughter and go to find the two men.

Now it was just Aemma and Letho, "Alright," Aemma crosses her arms, giving the witcher a stern look, "talk. Don't take too long. After everything you've put me through, you have given me no other reason to even let you speak to me." "It was never my intention to harm you, or even to put you in harm's way," Letho begins his explanation, "but before I go any further, a drink is first warranted," he pulls out a flask, "Care for some vodka?" Aemma looked at the flask and gave Letho an incredulous look, "it's not poisoned," the witcher assures taking a swig as proof. "I know witchers are immune to poisons," Aemma deadpans, "you taking the first drink means shit to me." "Do you really believe I would resort to such cowardly measures if I wanted to kill you?" "I don't really know. I don't know you all that well, not as well as Geralt knows you apparently." "Fair enough. More for me then," Letho shrugs, taking another swig.

"Our first encounter, at La Valette castle," Aemma says, "before I passed out and you abducted me, I remember you saying it had become personal." "You were never my primary target," Letho nods, "before your arrival, the original plan I made with the Scoia'tel was to assassinate Foltest and for me to escape unscathed. Scouts spotted you in the mote, climbing into the castle. When word reached Iorveth, there was a slight change in plans. To kill the king...and to capture you afterwards so as to turn you hostage."

"I remember the Scoia'tel wanted justice for my father's wrongdoings against them," Aemma nods, "but you told me back in Flotsam that they weren't the only ones seeking justice. What had my father done to you that made you want to seek justice against him?" "It wasn't anything he'd done directly," Letho says in a neutral tone. The witcher then proceeded to pull something out of his pocket. Aemma flinched a bit, expecting it to be a trap. 

It was a piece of parchment. Letho hands to Aemma, who unrolls it.

It was a wanted sign for Geralt. Below the picture, the description reads as follows: Wanted. The White Wolf. Also known as Geralt of Rivia. For the crime of kidnapping an important member of the royal family of Westeros, and attempted regicide.  10,000 dragons for the witcher's head as well as his silver wolf medallion.   

                                                -by order of Prince Daemon Targaryen

Aemma looked to Letho, "so is this what this is about? Justice for Geralt? Strange way of protecting your fellow witcher after you went out of your way to frame him for YOUR kingslaying?"

"Hardly," Letho answers, "this was before I ever came across Geralt during my time on the Path. No...the justice I was seeking for someone close to me who became a victim of your father's crusade against the White Wolf." "...who was this person?" Aemma asks.

"A witcher, who went by the name of Bern, from the School of the Cat. We ran into each other multiple times on the Path. Annoying prick at times, but I came to see him as something of a brother. When the Rogue Prince put out a hit on Geralt, sent out these flyers to the Continent, bounty hunters, mercenaries and any two-bit assassin for hire came out from every corner to search for the White Wolf." "And Bern was caught in the crossfires," Aemma realized. "It was 14 years ago," Letho nods, "I came across Bern one final time. We were planning to travel together for a little while as we had done each time we crossed paths. Bern went behind some bushes, wanting to relieve himself before starting our journey. It took longer then I was expecting. I went to check up on him...only to find his body laying on the ground in the bushes. His head was missing...as was his medallion."

Aemma's eyes widen a bit, realizing what had happened. "I tracked the men that did this to him," Letho continues, "there were three of them. Mercenaries- brothers they were- I managed to kill one of them in my grief filled raged, but the other two escaped, Bern's head in their sack. I noticed one of them had white dye stained on their hands. The one I killed had that wanted flyer in his pocket, and that was how I knew why they went after Bern. My guess is they sought to kill Bern, thinking he was the witcher your father wanted, but didn't realize their mistake until afterwards, to which they must've brought Bern's head to your father, as evidence that they killed the witcher he was looking for, dying his hair white so as trick the Rogue Prince out of the reward. I went back to burn Bern's body. I never mourned anyone as much as I mourned him."

There was an eerie silence the moment Letho finished his story. Aemma never knew her father had posted wanted flyers for Geralt, never knew he sought to it that the witcher would never take another breath again. All because he and her mother were the ones who got away.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Aemma says with sincerity, "I'm sorry your friend became a victim of my father's wrath. But did you really think this plan would've worked? What if my father came with his dragon? That was a certainty, would you've been able to deal with that if it came to it?" "....to be honest, I knew this plan was doomed from the start," Letho admits, "it was Iorveth's idea, he was certain the Scoia'tel and myself could take certain precautions, factoring in the possibility of fighting a dragon. But there were still flaws in this plans from the moment of its inception. Besides...even if it did work somehow, killing Daemon Targaryen would not have brought back Bern, nor would it have brought back the Scoia'tel his dragon murdered. It would not have brought me anything other than the satisfaction of revenge, but who knows how long that would have lasted."

"So what now?" Aemma slightly sneers, "do you expect me to forgive you and forget everything you've done to me?" "Not at all," Letho assures, "I have no illusions of forgiveness. I'm a hard-shelled bastard who refused to pass up on an opportunity, regardless of how ill-fated it was. I won't apologize for it; however, princess, if you wish to take me on in a fair fight, have your own course of vengeance for the wrongs I've done you, I won't begrudge you this. Should you get to the point where you deliver the final blow, I won't stop you."

Aemma stared at Letho, actually contemplating his offer to let her take vengeance on him. Despite the shit he put her through, she didn't really consider Letho her enemy. Additionally, even if she did want to fight him, there was a small chance he could defeat her...okay maybe more than a small chance given he was a witcher and had a lot more fighting experience. Not to mention Aemma had only just reunited with her mother; if she were to die right here, it would have been all for naught.

So, Aemma gives Letho her answer, "I won't fight you," she says, "not today anyway...maybe not anytime in the future either. It won't do any good, it won't erase the past. I don't begrudge you the feelings you hold for my father. I'll let you go, but this doesn't change anything between us." "I wouldn't hope so," Letho shrugs, looking ahead as if he sensed something, "you should go. Be with your mother. And if you ever return to the rest of your family, do be sure to give your father my regards."

Right on cue, you, Geralt, and Jaskier show up. Letho turns his gaze to Geralt, who gives an understanding nod in response. "Farewell, princess" Letho says to Aemma, before turning to walk away, "may our paths never cross again."

"Aemma!" you call out, rushing over to your daughter's side, you joined by Jaskier and Geralt. "What did he want?" Geralt asks her. "He...we had come to an understanding," Was all Aemma could say.

"Gwynbleidd!" the group hear Iorveth's voice. Accompanying the elf was Triss, whom had blood dripping from one corner of her mouth and a few bruises here and there. "Triss! You're alright!" Aemma exclaims, running over to Tris, "did they hurt you?" "Not too much," Triss assures, "Letho saved me from the Nilfgaardians. I'll be alright aside from a few scratches..." Tris turned to see you standing there, "Wha...(y/n)!"  "Triss!" you say back, ready for impact as the sorceress ran up and pulled you in for a tight embrace. "How is this even possible?" Triss asks with joy and disbelief. "I had help from a mutual acquaintance of ours," you explain.

You look over to see Iorveth was still present, "I know you," you say, frown on your face as you remembered that last encounter all too well, "one eye less then last I saw you, but I recognize that scowl on your face." "I have no regrets of that particular encounter, Lady Lark," Iorveth says, crossing his arms, "only thing I do regret was not being able to sever the head of your daughter's father." "Hmmm...don't blame you for that," you mutter in a tone no one else could hear.

"What will you do now?" Geralt questions the elf. "...I must regroup with the rest of the Scoia'tel," was Iorveth's answer, "this is where we part ways. Va fail, Gwynbleidd, Marigold, Silverlark...Lady Lark."

Iorveth walked away. And it was right at this moment two men showed up. One you didn't know, but the other you recognized right away. "Princess Aemma!" Criston calls out, only to stop in his tracks, along with Ivan, when he saw what he was possibly up against. His own eyes widen the moment he saw you, recognizing you instantly. "Hello Ser Criston," you greet, "it's been a good while." "You...Lady Lark," Criston says, "How is this possible?" "I've been getting that a lot recently," you joke, "how fares the rest of the Kingsguard? How fares Princess Rhaenyra?" 

Before Criston could even form an acceptable answer to that question, a dragon's roar was heard. You flinch instinctively, trying not to let that particular trigger get to you, but Aemma could see how much it upset you. Aemma and the others look up to see Vhagar flying overhead. "Don't worry, mother," your daughter tries to assure you, "it's just Vhagar." "I find it a tad bit disturbing you can actually say that, given the size of that particular beast," Jaskier deadpans.

Cirillia then flew overhead, calling out to her rider and making a landing. Geralt was about to draw his sword, but Aemma stopped him, "no, don't. She won't harm us," she assures. Aemma approaches the dragon, who lowered her head as Aemma ran over to hug the dragon's snout. "Oh, Cirillia, how I have missed you so," Aemma says, "I bet you missed me too." Cirillia made a low rumble in response. "That's Cirillia?" you ask with wide eyes, "my goodness she has grown quite a lot." "You don't...remember riding her before? When you escaped the Wild Hunt with Ciri?" Aemma asks with a frown. "I don't really remember much of my time with the Hunt," you admit, "just what I remembered before. I certainly remember Cirillia being the size of a small dog when last I saw her. She wasn't even big enough to be saddled yet at that time." 

Cirillia extended her neck towards you, making almost purring sounds as you place a hand on her snout. "I'm glad you remember me, old girl," you say with a smile, "even the circumstances are less than ideal." "She seems to like you," Jaskier states. "I would hope so, her rider is my daughter after all," you joke. Cirillia then nudged her nose against your brother. "Whoa now," Jaskier says in response, "let's not get too carried away with the affection. At least not before I buy you a dinner first."

Aemma looked over and noticed a rucksack hanging over the side of Cirillia's saddle, something she didn't see last time she saw the she-dragon in her vision. Aemma wondered over to the saddle and checked the sack. "What is it?" you inquire of your daughter. Aemma reached into the sack, and pulled out a large pink egg. "Is...is that what I think it is?" Jaskier asks, "It's...it's a-" "A dragon's egg," Aemma says with a wide smile, peeking into the sack once more, "there's two more eggs in here. It's Cirillia's first clutch." 

Cirillia made a low rumble in response. "So Cirillia is a mummy now. Good to know," Jaskier says, just going with it. Geralt said nothing, making a small smile. Ivan and Criston stood at the side, feeling like intrusive spectators at this interaction.

For Ivan, the awkwardness was somewhat mitigated from the half-elf reeling over the conversation he had with Iorveth prior to the elf's departure from Loc Muinne. When Geralt went to confront Letho.

-----------flashback---------------

Ivan stood where he was, keeping an eye left and right for any signs of knights from the Order of the Flaming Rose. He kept his headband on at all times, knowing their ilk was not fond of non-humans, especially those who were mixed with human blood.

Iorveth, who had made certain that Triss was able to stand on her own then turned and walked over to Ivan, feeling like he needed to say some things to the boy that he sired. There was no telling, after all, if they would ever cross paths again after this, especially if Ivan was dead set on remaining loyal to his post as a knight of the Kingsguard.

"You came back," the older elf states matter-of-factually. "I didn't come back for you, if that's what you're getting at," Ivan sneers, refusing to even look at the elf.

"I know you are angry at me," Iorveth says, "I understand. You blame me for the troubles that befell you...and your mother. Perhaps I should've made more of an effort to find the both of you when you escaped Flotsam. I...I was more focused on my own crusade for vengeance. I can't make up for the struggles you faced as a child. But...there is something you should know." "Whatever it is, I DON'T want to hear it," Ivan insists.

"Your mother...was not as human as you may have thought her to be," Iorveth blurts out, causing Ivan to turn to face his father. "I...I don't follow." "Your mother was in'heide, as you are,' Iorveth explains, "half-elf." "But...she didn't have the pointed ears as I do." "Her own mother had her ears rounded when she was a babe in the cradle," Iorveth tells him, "the points clipped off so as she could pass as a dh'oine. I saw the faint scars on her ears when I first met her. I knew the moment I saw them. She admitted that life was a little easier because of that, but she long hated her own mother for making such decisions for her when she had no say in the matter." Ivan found himself reaching for his ears, feeling his headband for the points. He recalled times in his childhood when his mother told him to be proud of his ears, of his elven heritage,  no matter what anyone else says. Although, that tune had changed somewhat when they first moved to King's Landing.

"Do you honestly believe this will change anything between us?" Ivan asks in a scoffing manner to his father. "I don't expect anything," Iorveth says matter-of-factually, "I only wanted you to know the truth. I also want you to know of your true heritage, that you are more elf than human, that you are more likely to live longer than most half-elves. It is only a matter of time before the rest of your supposed comrades in the Kingsguard begin to notice as the decades pass." "Ser Criston knows," Ivan tries to persuade, "nothing has changed. He accepts me as I am." "As he?" Iorveth points back, "or has he merely decided to keep that information to himself until it will benefit him in some way? You cannot trust these people, boy. Sooner or later they will turn against you. It will only be a matter of time."

----------end of flashback----------

In the present, Cirillia turned her gaze to the opposite, almost like she sensed someone was approaching.

"Aemma?" she hears her name called out by a familiar voice.

You saw the way Geralt tensed at the voice. You hoped to the gods it wasn't going to be a repeat of that night in the Red Keep.

Walking around Cirillia, you spot a young man with long blonde hair with sharp cheekbones and an eye patch. You could see he was a Targaryen as Aemma is. You started to wonder...was this... "Prince Aegon? Is that you?" you approach the young prince with intrigue, him giving you a confused look. "You've really grown since I last I saw you. You're...a lot taller than I would've expected. A little slimmer too."

Aemond took a look at you and towards Aemma before turning his gaze back to you. "Are you the Lady of Larks? Aemma's mother?" "Aemond!" Aemma calls out, coming to your side. You were now confused, which Aemond took notice of. "You must have me confused for my older brother," he provides for an explanation. "Mother, this...this is Aemond. He's the king's second born son. You never met him, he was born after you left. Aemond...this is my mother, the Lady of Larks. The one I was searching the Continent for. I told you she was alive." 

Aemond looked between the two of you, "it appears so." The prince wasn't sure what to do in this situation, but you were a lady, and he figured you should be addressed as such, "it is...a pleasure to meet you, my Lady. My cousin has spoken much of you since we were children," he takes your hand and places a chaste kiss to it as a gentleman would. "Oh, well aren't you the sensible gentleman," you respond flattered, "it is nice to meet you as well, Prince Aemond."

"Aemond look," Aemma shows her cousin the egg, "it's Cirillia's. It's her first clutch. She laid three eggs." Cirillia made a low rumble in response, almost as if she were proud of this accomplishment. "Where...where's the ashen haired woman? Ciri?"

"Ciri?" Geralt's ears perked up at that name, "you saw Ciri? Where is she?" "She...she was here," Aemma turns around looking for the woman in question. "I saw her walk through a portal right before we were reunited," you admit, "Ciri must've left before the Wild Hunt could catch up with her."

"Ciri...she was here," Geralt says as the realization sank in that he had come so close to being with Ciri again. So close and yet so far.

"OH! I almost forgot," Triss says as she pulls out a small silk wrapped package and handed it to Aemma, "looks like I was able to give this to you just in time." "What is it?" Aemma asks, unwrapping the package to reveal a necklace. "I was making that for you when we arrived in Flotsam," the sorceress explains, "happy birthday, Aemma."

"It's...it's my nameday!" Aemma realized, "mother, today it's my nameday. I mean...Aemond, it's our nameday. Today is our nameday." "I'm sorry, 'our'?" Jaskier raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I need to explain," Aemma realizes, "Aemond was born on my fourth nameday. So, we share a nameday."

"Oh," Triss says, "I uh, I'm sorry, Aemond, but I didn't make anything for you. I can though if you want, it's not trouble, really-" "There is...no need for that," Aemond assures. "But Aemond, we should still do something," Aemma insists, "it's your day too. We need...we need to do something. We need...we need a cake! A honey cake, like the one Aunt Alicent had the cooks make for us on our nameday. We need, like a party, along with the cake. We should celebrate!" 

"Then by all means, let's celebrate!" Jaskier says back, as excited for this as his niece is.  "With all due respect, princess, this may not exactly be the best time," Criston points out, gesturing towards the soldiers in black armor making their into Loc Muinne. "That's Nilfgaard's army," you realize, "I thought His Imperial Majesty would've grown tired of warring with the Northern realms after all this time."

"I may have an idea of what we can do," Geralt suggests.

--------------Vergen: Main Hall--------------

"One, two, three, four!" Jaskier directs the band as he tunes his lute and begins the jig to celebrate Aemma and Aemond's birthday.

The moment the party made it back to Vergen, the dwarf Zoltan had made it back in time to greet them. Zoltan was quite ecstatic to see you again, insisting he give you a hug after all this time, to which you happily oblige.

The moment you mentioned it was Aemma's birthday, Zoltan didn't hesitate to have the alderman as well as his brethren start organizing the hall to celebrate this momentous occasion (he was a little less than ecstatic hearing it was also Aemond's birthday, but obliged nonetheless from seeing how excited Aemma was to celebrate with her cousin).

There was food and dancing and music, with you and Jaskier singing a duet, and you singing a solo that everyone fell in love with at the sound of your angelic voice.

Imagine the Lady of Larks singing this:

Geralt had a small smile on his face as he watched you sing, remembering the vow you once made on the road to Nilfgaard, how you would not sing a single note until you were reunited with your daughter once again, no matter how long it would take. By the reaction of your brother and everyone around you, it appears you had made good on that promise.

Aemma danced with the part guests as her uncle sang another jig. Aemond stood at the table, not really wanting to participate. He would've kept it that way but a dwarf woman came up to him and asked for a dance. Aemond was a little taken aback by the she-dwarf's facial hair, but he was a prince, and every woman is an image of the Mother to be spoken of with reverence. He reluctantly accepted and allowed the dwarf woman to guide him to the dance floor so as to fulfill her request.

Aemma looked over, smiling from seeing her cousin was finally properly participating in the festivities. Aemond looked towards Aemma, finding himself wishing he was dancing with her instead.

The young prince got his wish during the next song. "I'm glad you're here, Aemond," Aemma admits, "I...I know we left things at a shaky place, but I'm glad you came back. I am also grateful that you haven't tried to drag me back to King's Landing this time." Aemond said nothing, as all he could think about when he ran into Ciri, how she was adamant about finding Aemma, rescuing her from people who only wished to exploit his cousin for personal gain. "I'm glad we could do this again," he admits, "we used to have wonderful times such as this on our nameday." "Remember when the lords used to think we were the ones betrothed to each other?" Aemma asks, "from the way we sat next to each other on our nameday? The parties had to be smaller after that to lessen the confusion. At least we still had cake." Aemond made an amused smile, knowing how much Aemma loved her nameday cake on those special days.

"Have you a chance to speak to your mother?" Aemond asks, "About the things you wanted?"

Aemma made wide eyes, realizing she hadn't had the chance yet. "Oh, Aemond, you're right!" She looks around frantically, "where is my mother?"

"Uncle!" Aemma calls out to Jaskier, who was chatting with several of the dwarves. "Aemma?" "Where is my mother?" "Well, she must've stepped out for a bit," Jaskier provides for an answer, though the way he said it suggested he was hiding something, "I'm sure, she'll be back, Aemma, you may want to wait a bit." "Where is she?" Aemma asks again. "I saw her go up those stairs," Jaskier answers, "Aemma, wait, you really should reconsider, I wouldn't go up there-"

Aemma foolishly ignores her uncle and runs up the stairs, presumably to where her mother was.

She runs into a closed door, "Mother?" "Aemma, you really shouldn't-" Before Jaskier could stop her, Aemma opens the door wide, "mother, I need- Ahh! oh my gods!"

Aemma had walked in on you...and Geralt. The two of you barely having any of your clothes on, Geralt laying on the bed, and you riding the witcher like a stallion.

Cue the Witcher medieval porn music:

"Aemma!"

"Sorry!" Aemma slams the door shut, face hot as an oven.

"...I tried to warn you," Jaskier deadpans. "What happened? I heard screaming!" Aemond runs up the stairs, seeing the look on his cousin's face. "Aemma, what happened?" "Nothing happened!" Aemma insists, running back down the stairs as humanly possible.

Aemond gives Jaskier a confused frown, "the Lady of Larks...had some catching up to do," was all Jaskier had for an explanation.

Chapter 54.5

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Number 9: pressing face against other's neck to hide from the world + the number that's a tender kiss to the crown of someone's head.

Pairing: Eskel x Jaskier.

Thank you and pretty please ❤️

“I’m fine!” Jaskier says as Geralt and Eskel deposit him on the grimy little straw mattress that this inn considers a bed. “Really, I appreciate the three of you rushing gallantly to my rescue, but I had the situation well in hand.”

“Bardling, you just spent a week in a dungeon.” Yennefer looks unimpressed.

“A very nice dungeon,” Jaskier says. “It had a chamberpot! You don’t get amenities like that in most Northern dungeons. I need to get arrested in Nilfgaard more often.”

“No,” Geralt, Yennefer, and Eskel say at the same time.

“Are you hurt?” Eskel looks him over, a frown creasing his brow.

“A few bumps and bruises.” With a wince, Jaskier touches his bruised stomach. One of the soldiers who arrested him had a kick like a mule. “But compared to the last time I found myself arrested, it was a dream. The guards actually liked my singing!”

“Well, Nilfgaard is a notoriously uncultured country,” Yennefer says.

“Missed you too, you dreadful witch.”

Geralt gives her a tired look. “Yenn and I are going to go check on Ciri. Can you stop him from getting into trouble for an hour, Esk?”

“I’ll do my best.” Eskel nods gravely.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on leaving this bed anytime soon!” Jaskier calls after them. As the door closes behind them, he turns to Eskel. “Have they worked things out, then? They seem far chummier than when we all left Kaer Morhen. I hope so. Please don’t tell her I said this, but I’ve grown quite fond of Yennefer.”

Eskel watches him with worried golden eyes. “You sure you’re okay, songbird?”

Under that familiar gaze, Jaskier can feel his facade start to crack. With effort, he keeps his bright smile on his face. “Really, I’m fine. I knew you’d find me eventually.”

Except, he hadn’t, because he thought that Geralt and Yennefer were hiding in some remote corner of the Continent with Ciri and that Eskel was walking the Path. He hadn’t expected any of them to know that something had happened to him until it was far too late.

“And there was no torture.” Jaskier wiggles his uninjured fingers to demonstrate. “No burning, no beating, no breaking of fingers. Everyone was quite civil, actually.”

They’d been waiting for someone to come to interrogate Jaskier. Whether it was the fire fucker or some other sadistic bastard, Jaskier thankfully never learned. The waiting had almost been worse than pain.

“And the food was actually quite good.” Jaskier is starting to hear the strain in his own voice. “Have you ever had olives, Eskel? I was skeptical at first, but I’ll admit, they grew on—”

Eskel closes the distance between them in two strides and sinks down onto the mattress next to Jaskier, pulling him into his arms.

Half-heartedly, Jaskier tries to push him away. “Love, I probably reek. I just spent a week in a dungeon.”

“You don’t smell any worse than this damn mattress.” Eskel’s voice is a familiar, soothing rumble.

“The sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Jaskier laughs weakly and tucks his face into the curve of his lover’s throat. He smells like leather and horse and the slow, steady beat of his pulse is wonderfully familiar. Burrowing closer, Jaskier tries to block out the memory of the past week—the fear, the uncertainty, and the crushing loneliness.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it out this time,” he murmurs into Eskel’s skin. “I didn’t think anyone would know to look for me. I figured you wouldn’t know I was gone until the winter.”

“Yennefer heard a rumor and she and Geralt came to get me.”

Jaskier huffs a laugh. “Gods, does this mean I owe Yennefer my life again? Bring me back to the dungeon, Eskel, I can’t bear it.”

Eskel brushes a feather-light kiss across Jaskier’s forehead. “No.”

Jaskier tightens his grip on the front of Eskel’s shirt. “Horrible man.”

Eskel kisses him again, pressing his lips against Jaskier’s temple. “I told you when we left Kaer Morhen, if you needed me, I’d find you.”

Jaskier feels a lump rising in his throat and swallows it back. “That’s the second sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He starts laughing at his own joke, the sound odd and ragged.

Eskel kisses the shell of his ear. “You’re okay, songbird. I’ve got you.”

The laughter dies in Jaskier's throat and he closes his eyes, cuddling closer to Eskel, and lets himself think of nothing but strong arms around him and the familiar heartbeat under his cheek. That dark, dank dungeon with no company but the sound of his own singing is far away. Eskel is here and Jaskier is okay.

24 Touches Prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

[thelostgirl21]

When you read some of the things you'd written before watching Season 3, and they suddenly take on a new meaning...

His "weapon" isn't a sword, magic, or even his lute. After all, "Whoreson Prison Blues" sounded fantastic accompanied by spoons!

Yes. Spoons always make Jaskier sound fantastic. Jaskier really knows how to work with spoons, and work those spoons!

All Jaskier truly needs, to sound great and inspired, really, is a spoon!

Give Jaskier a spoon, and they'll be making sweet music together... Both literally and figuratively...

He doesn't need a weapon, he's one of the single most influential character of the series, in a sense, just by virtue of existing and doing "what he does best" - being an impulsively chaotic bard either seducing or pissing people off; and just touching things he probably shouldn't touch, and putting random stuff in his mouth.

Radovid, Comma Prince of Redania: *Spends his whole life doing everything he can to stay under the radar, be kept out of Redanian politics, and appear really dumb, incompetent, and drunk (note: although he was only pretending to be drunk with Jaskier in that scene, I think Hugh Skinner mentioned that Radovid does drink quite a lot to cope with everything that's going on, though, sort of as a way to "self-medicate") so people will let him be.*

Jaskier: *Shows up.*

Radovid: *Intensely crushes on him. Forgets he's supposed to play dumb, and instead offers actually good and sensible arguments as to why Jaskier Cirilla should come live with them in Redania.*

Jaskier: *Shows willingness to listen to Radovid, and offers to do what he can to convince Geralt and Ciri to accept the offer, should they find a way to get rid of Rience.*

Philippa: *Is impressed, and compliments Radovid on it.*

Radovid: *Immediately attempts to go back to playing dumb, hiding, and hopefully being of no interest to her or anyone else at court.*

Jaskier: *Shows up again, flirts with Radovid, lets him know that he's not fooled by his dumb drunken playboy prince act, utterly seduces him with a song (and as many "come hither looks" as one can humanly make fit in a single encounter) and humbly asks for his help.*

Radovid: *Falls even deeper in love with him, drops his act with Jaskier and agrees to help him. Suddenly gets deeply involved in Redanian politics. Argues with the spymasters that, maybe, they should start using carrots with people instead of sticks. Puts Philippa on Rience's trail, while letting Dijkstra know about his brother's secret meetings with Nilfgaard (probably counting on him to change Vizimir's mind regarding his plans of handing Ciri over to the Emperor), regularly starts showing disdain for Dijkstra's methods and gets himself on the spymaster's "shitlist"...*

Of course, one thing leads to another, and next thing you know:

Queen Hedwig is dead,

King Vizimir is dead, and now he's

Radovid, Comma King of Redania.

Right at the start of the second war between the Northern Kingdoms and the Nilfgaardian Empire, no less...

With his sister-in-law and brother's murderer(s) still likely running around the castle somewhere, and working for the people that just put that crown on his head...

And the love of his life still out there, risking his own life, hopefully having managed to reunite with Geralt, and now facing who knows how many dangers to attempt to go rescue Ciri...

So much for staying under the radar and avoiding to get politically involved!

Jaskier: *Seduces the Prince of Redania and uses his lips for extraordinary things...

...accidentally triggers a series of events that changes Redania's line of succession, and totally upends the power structure and dynamic of the strongest kingdom of the Continent!*

By this point, I would almost expect Geralt's response to learning that Vizimir has been assassinated, and that Prince Radovid has ascended to the throne, to be:

"Alright Jaskier, what did you do?"

Obviously, I knew that Prince Radovid was rumored to be Jaskier's new love interest in Season 3 back then... But I had absolutely no idea what Radovid's character would be like in terms of personality, motivations, etc.

Turns out that they found Jaskier a love interest that is basically as directionless and lonely in life as Geralt used to be in Season 1. Someone that doesn't want to get involved in politics or any of those games people in position of power like to play, and is basically just going through the motions of his life...

Until Jaskier shows up and, suddenly, he finds himself right at the heart of those politics, forced to make decisions and choices that will shape the future of the whole freaking Continent!

The main difference is that Geralt sort of continuously fought against Destiny, tried to ignore it, deny it, and push it away. And then, he blamed Jaskier for everything that went wrong and attempted to cut himself from him!

Whereas Radovid just immediately found himself irresistibly drawn to it and embraced whatever changes Jaskier brought into his life, while starting to make choices and take risks out of love without ever blaming him for it, or making it sound like he remotely held Jaskier responsible whenever things misfired or went wrong.

And even when things do go horribly wrong, all Radovid can think of, apparently, while looking at his dead brother is "going to see Jaskier."

But then, Geralt is much older than Radovid is and, from what I understand, has had his dreams and hopes crushed quite a few times whenever he's let his guard down and dared get attached to people in the past.

When you keep suffering loss after loss after loss... at some point, you probably figure that the best way to avoid loss is no longer feeling like you have anything valuable to lose. If you need no one, then you won't risk losing anyone.

Whereas Radovid's never had anyone from his own world he was able to genuinely emotionally connect with. And suddenly, he finds someone that sees him and is making an effort to attempt to understand him - something and someone he's discovered that he needs and doesn't want to lose.

But yeah, it's really fascinating, on the show, to see the way that our beloved bard just keeps... basically causing stuff to happen!

For better or for worse, Jaskier is making people that seemingly don't want to get involved be involved, and making them discover whatever their purpose appears to be in the grand scheme of things!

Yennefer:

The "Destiny" that brought them together:

And now that Lauren Hissrich has clearly stated that Ciri wasn't the descendant of Éile and Fjall that the prophecy was referring to in "The Witcher: Blood Origin", one has to wonder if it could be Jaskier.

Okay, first I just want to address people saying that it's sort of a "retcon" on what she'd said in the past and that she'd "all but confirmed it was Ciri already", because I actually found that interview and listened to it, and that's not quite what I took from it.

I mean yes, I can see how it could have been interpreted the way it was, but what she actually said is:

"Éile's pregnant, at the end. And we know that that's part of Ithlinne's Prophecy; that there is a seed in her that will eventually lead to someone who's important in the Witcher's world.

So, as someone who, for instance, on "The Witcher" 's side, follows Ciri and the origin of her genes and her blood... It's like, I kinda wanna know where that character's gonna go.

I wanna know if these two things are going to, you know, crash into each other at some point."

So, the way I personally understand it is that:

"Blood Origin" introduced the idea that there currently is someone, in the Witcher's world, that is connected to the Ithlinne's Prophecy by blood (by virtue of being the descendant of Fjall and the Lark), and that they will sing the last note of a song that ends all time.

The prophecy about them goes:

"The time of the spheres is upon us. Aen Seidhe [the elves of the Continent] lost across the skies. Cast adrift in time. Ever searching for love, lost and left behind. The Lark’s seed shall carry forth the first note of a song that ends all times. And one of her blood shall sing the last."

And that, on the show "The Witcher", Ciri's also a character whose genes and blood is given a lot of attention and importance to. So, as a member of the audience, she'd be curious to know if these two different characters are going to crash into each other at some point, and those two parts of the Prophecy are going to connect.

The rest of the Ithlinne's Prophecy from the books, that's connected to Ciri, is:

"Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame. Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the signs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidhe, the Blood of Elves... May Ye All Wail, for the Destroyer of Nations is upon us. Your lands shall they trample and divide with rope. Your cities razed shall be, their dwellers expelled. The bat, owl and raven your homes shall infest, and the serpent will therein make its nest..."

She also said, in a Tudum Interview: "One of the things that we love about Sapkowski’s books is his attention to genes, to bloodlines, and to how families grow and develop."

And in Season 3, Jaskier keeps referring to Ciri, Geralt, and Yennefer as "his family".

They may not be related by blood, but they are still "family" to him, in the truest sense (like, I think, the Seven established a family-like bond).

And Jaskier is the one that brought them all together. "The Lark’s most precious note shall be the key to all things", and Jaskier does feel like he's the key to all things, at times.

He's just randomly traveling the Continent, unlocking people's destinies left and right, connecting with them, struggling with the thought of settling down.

He's also drawn to people that are "ever searching for love", and that feel "lost and left behind".

Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri... Radovid, even.

And, of course, the elves, that he became "The Sandpiper" to protect.

What I'm also wondering is if the part of the Ithlinne's Prophecy, at the end of "Blood Origin", was added at the same time that they chose to introduce Seanchai and change the role that Jaskier was initially meant to play in the spinoff.

Because it would appear that Seanchai's true form would be that of an ancient elf.

So, "Blood Origin" introduces us to two incredibly powerful ancient elves with the ability to cross time and dimensions.

Avalach, that shares a connection to Ciri in the books (I won't spoil it for those that haven't read it), and

2. Seanchai.

So, what if Seanchai was the child of Éile and Fjall? The Lark’s seed, that shall carry forth (throughout history) the first note of a song that ends all times?

And this is sort of what the show's creator had to say about her character:

It just sort of fitted so well in. When I was thinking about this idea with Seanchaí story collection, it was that moment where all the story about music, and story and words being more powerful than any army, sort of all felt less than [compared] to [having] it sort of personified in this sort of creature that’s raison d'être is to collect stories because they are so powerful. It was great. And the name Seanchaí actually comes from... It was a position in Ireland where you were a storyteller, and you went between the halls of kings, and you went to chieftains and people, and they were the most powerful people in the land and kings were fucking terrified of them – and queens – because one bad story would destroy you as a king. And they were far more worried about that than any army. And then bringing that back to life in this world, it just all clicked. It was one of those lovely synchronous moments of story.

Because the child of Fjall and the Lark is supposed to carry forth (not sing, carry) the first note of the song...

...and one of her blood shall sing the last note of that song.

And when Jaskier asks Seanchai "Why did you save me from the Temerians?", she answers "I need you to sing a story back to life. We're related you an I."

She then explains that he's a bard and she's a storyteller, of a sort...

But that's just the thing. A storyteller might be able to carry the notes of a song - for centuries, perhaps - but she would need a bard to actually sing it when the time was right.

And yeah... The idea that she meant a bit more than just "storytellers and bards have a lot in common" when she said "we're related, you and I", would be intriguing...

The problem, however, is that should it be Jaskier (regardless of him being related to Seanchai or not...), it would sort of make that part of the Ithlinne's Prophecy extremely literal. Almost too literal, one might say.

Not to mention that the way the scene is filmed really seems to be meant to heavily imply that it is Jaskier.

Because, when Seanchai says "...and one of her blood shall sing the last", we are pulled out of the past to the present, where Jaskier is seen writing the last words of a story.

And, when he tries to get her to elaborate on who she's referring to, the answer Jaskier gets is: "Sing the 'Song of the Seven', Sandpiper".

Then, when Jaskier looks back at the last page of the story he's just written, the camera zooms in on "...and one of her blood shall sing the last.", while it starts raining, some dramatic ominous music starts playing, and Jaskier is suddenly back to standing on the battlefield.

So, it feels like she's giving him the answer to his question by telling him to sing.

Then, Seanchai goes on, saying "...so the oppressed may find hope and strenght in the tale of their ancestors; and be ready for the great change to come;" and you see an elf come to squeeze Jaskier's shoulder to let him know the battle is won (at least, this one), and invite him to follow them.

And, even if the only way that Seanchai and Jaskier were "related" would be through their love for either collecting and preserving stories, and/or sharing those stories with the world, she still says that she needs him to sing a story back to life.

So, if you were a powerful ancient elf that actually knew who was meant to sing the very last note of a specific story, wouldn't you want to let them know how the story actually began, too?

Jaskier: I'm just a bard.

Seanchai: In her mind, going:

A bard with a blood marked by beast and magic, that felt an instant connection and deep sense of kinship towards a Witcher that everyone hated, feared, and called a "Butcher"...

A bard that brought said Witcher to Calanthe's banquet - where he prevented Duny's demise, and claimed his future daughter, the Elder Blood Princess, as his own.

A bard that brought the Witcher to Yennefer of Vengenberg, the sorceress that would come to love that child as her own daughter, too, and help protect and raise her, too.

A bard that feels intimately drawn to everyone on the Continent - men, women, elves, dwarves, even polymorphous, apparently... - regardless of race or creed, and would step in and risk his life to protect those being persecuted on the basis of being seen as "the other"...

A bard that embodies the complexity, beauty, and diversity of everyone's stories on the Continent, and feels like - if the muses stopped talking to him and inspiring him to write and sing those songs - he'd have no idea who he was anymore, and would no longer be able to do the one thing he was put on this Continent to do?

A bard that inspires people to grow, get involved, and ultimately become the better versions of themselves...

A bard, whose ancestors' fight against Balor lead to the Conjunction of the Spheres, the arrival of the humans on the Continent, of the monsters, the creation of the Witchers, and the beginning of a story that he'll witness and sing the conclusion of.

But yes, just a bard.

But yeah, it's like the show is pointing us so strongly in Jaskier's direction and wanting us so much to think it's him that it's almost suspicious or "too easy" to assume it's him.

What also makes me hesitate, in some ways, is that people would expect someone that's been described as having "a blood like no other, marked by beast and magic", to be exhibiting superhuman powers of some sort, and have powerful magic of their own, I suppose.

While Jaskier is very much human. But Seanchai (and the show runners, apparently) sees great power in the ability to shape the world through storytelling, and she makes it sound like she truly respects Jaskier's "power", and the way he's been using his voice to help change people's perception of outcasts.

Even "Toss A Coin To Your Witcher" was all about changing the way people irrationally feared and reviled witchers, and treated them as freaks.

Yes, he threw Filivandrel and the elves under the bus with that one!

No one's denying that, and I've always headcanoned that one of the reasons why he became the Sandpiper is because he realized he truly messed up with "Toss A Coin", and was attempting to take responsibility for his mistakes and right some of his wrongs.

But "Toss A Coin To Your Witcher" was still about changing people's perception of witchers, so that Geralt would be seen as a noble, brave, larger-than-life heroic protector that was also a friend you could just enjoy a pint with, rather than some unrelatable mutant freak without any emotion that one should fear and keep their distance from in general, unless they had an even more dangerous monster needing killing.

He tried helping one outcast, but sadly made things worse for others.

And we also have to remember that we're talking about a very young Jaskier that had been brought up in the human world until then, and likely didn't fully grasp nor understand how much damage humanity had done to the elder races. We're talking about someone with a fairly limited worldview that genuinely thought elves were just "hiding in their golden palaces" while humanity suffered until, like, seconds ago.

Filivandrel might have started shaking those perceptions, but I doubt it would have been enough to completely make him unlearn all the lies and prejudices he'd been taught, and fully realize that what had happened to Filivandrel wasn't the exception when it came to elves, but the norm.

Now, Jaskier knows and understands better. Back then? He still had things to learn. I guess my point is that, despite all of his flaws and shortcomings as a young bard, Jaskier was still using his voice in ways meant to help someone connect with, and be accepted by, the world.

He's always been highly empathetic, and likely to spontaneously side with those that needed to have a voice after having been cast aside.

And, should Jaskier be, indeed, the descendant of the very first Witcher, it does add a rather unique element to the way he immediately trusted that he'd be safe traveling with Geralt, and never instinctively feared who and what he was, regardless of the reputation he'd acquired after Blaviken.

Something in Jaskier's DNA would apparently be telling him that Witchers make perfectly suitable life companions!

And Fjall was kicked out of his clan when they found out he was having an affair with Princess Merwyn!

So, getting into trouble because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry would be a family trait that would go back generations!

It can't be helped, really!

Éile was into Dog Clan people and Witchers.

Jaskier is into Wolf Clan people and Witchers.

Fjall was into Royals and Bards.

Jaskier is into Royals and Himself.

These three are obviously related!

"Song of the Seven" would be a part of Jaskier's own heritage, too. He'd be singing about the history of his own ancestors, and their very own "found family", rather than singing about a group of outcasts he has no intimate or personal connection to.

And, should Éile indeed be one of Jaskier's ancestors...

Well, she was called "The Lark"...

And Jaskier chose to call himself "The Sandpiper"...

It's actually what Seanchai replied when Jaskier asked "Are you sure you've got the right man for this?"

Something like "Of course I am. You're the Sandpiper. Smuggler of elves to safety."

Apparently, small sandpipers are also sometimes called "sand larks".

So...

If Jaskier was the one referred to in that part of that Prophecy, then the song would start with the Lark's seed... and end with a Sand Lark!

Then, there's Radovid...

Because, of course, out of Jaskier's entire repertoire, he would be drawn to that song the most!

A part of me can't help but think I'm just looking way too deep into this, and making connections that are probably extremely accidental, but still, I can't help but think it would be really cool if Jaskier did end up being the Continent's MVP, in a sense.

If the whole point of Blood Origin - beyond giving us some insight on how the first Witchers were created and why, the Conjunction of the Spheres, the humans arriving on the Continent, etc. - was to clearly establish bards/storytellers (namely Éile, Jaskier, Seanchai...) as being some of the most powerful beings of their world.

While some would probably find it anticlimactic that Ithlinne's Prophecy, in "Blood Origin", would simply be about a "humble human bard" that would have inherited Éile's gift for storytelling and singing - rather than some sort of primal power or something (due to their connection to the first Witcher) - I think it would be fitting.

Dijkstra & Philippa: We have control over Redania’s resources!

Radovid: I have a Sandpiper.

He's just like the Queen on the chessboard, fiercely protecting the King by messing up the other pieces' moves, hard to predict because he can take off in too many directions and in too many ways...

And everyone's also after him, trying to knock him down, because he just keeps fucking their game over!

Also, as it turns out, there were many more character posters this season! And Jaskier wasn't the only one without a "physical weapon" or object of some sort...

But my favorite's got to be Radovid. I mean Jaskier's standing there, taking everything in, hyper-alert and ready to do "something" about it.

And our poor sweetheart is just... standing there with his fur heavy blanket cloak, discreetly looking over his shoulder, looking half-curious about what's happening and half totally done with this shit, just about ready to pour himself yet another drink...

Story of his life!

[hanzajesthanza]

Hey there, what is the estimated time Ciri, Geralt and Yennefer spent together since the events at Stygga castle and the Rivia pogrom?

It was short, right? :(

it's a little complicated to calculate, because not too many dates are given specifically. however, i have already thought about this and reread these parts for clues on dates way too much, and come up with some of my own calculations:

so, the precise date of the assault on stygga castle isn't known, but i calculate it to be from around the 17th to the 19th of march 1268. this is for a couple of reasons:

firstly, geralt returns to beauclair on january 8th/9th:

‘Geralt left for the Pomerol vineyard on the morning of the eighth of January. And returned … at eight in the evening … or nine in the morning … I don’t know … I’m not sure …’

and leaves on the evening of the 9th:

They watched him ride away and saw him trotting towards Beauclair. The sky darkened.

reynart provides an overview of their journey:

‘The Sansretour will guide you for the first few days. Keep to the river. (...) Should you with God’s will conquer Malheur, don’t hurry too much, for you’ll still have the Sansmerci and Mortblanc passes ahead of you. Should you conquer both of them, you’ll descend into the Sudduth valley. Sudduth has a warm microclimate, almost like Toussaint. (...) At the mouth of the Sudduth lies the small town of Caravista. (...) the direction of your journey is the Mag Deira plain, the valley of the River Sylte. Further on, Geralt, it’s according to the maps you copied at the town cartographer’s.

the month of january, we can see from their approach of the malheur pass in chapter seven, is frigid and frozen over. but in chapter two, in condwiramurs' dreams, she dreams of them during spring:

That included the dreams about the rebellion on the Isle of Thanedd and the journey of the Witcher and his company through the blizzard on the Malheur pass, through the spring downpours and soft roads in the Sudduth valley.

springtime is considered to be from march to may, so by the end of winter, they had left the mountains.

secondly, there's a select window of time that stygga can take place during (either before or after the beginning of april), because emhyr shows up at castle stygga in ebbing, but is also in cintra for the peace treaty; the peace of cintra took place on the second of april. this is actually mistranslated in the english official translation, in polish it's "nów księżyca," which is new moon, which means it's the second date of the month, as the humans begin their months by the new moon.

‘If my memory serves me—’ Boreas cleared his throat ‘—the kings arrived in Cintra in April?’ ‘The second of April, to be precise,’ the pilgrim corrected him. ‘It was, I recall, a full new moon.’

but since emhyr and false cirilla's scene occurs, i believe, in nilfgaard:

‘I shall not be staying here long,’ he said after a moment of oppressive silence. ‘I must ride to Cintra and grace with my person the ceremony of the peace treaty being signed. (...)’

he had to go from stygga, to nilfgaard, to cintra. now, he likely didn't make this journey on horseback; the distance to nilfgaard was so great, as geralt explains to milva in fen carn:

‘Rumour has it that Ciri’s in Nilfgaard, the capital of the Empire. Which is around two and half thousand miles from here. Simple arithmetic tells me that at this rate I’ll get there in a year and four months.’

that emhyr must have had imperial sorcerers with him to portal him and his military retinue around. thus making his travel mostly irrelevant to the calculations, but relevant as so far as that he can't be in two places at once, so the assault on castle stygga likely didn't happen in early april, but instead, either late march or late april.

and it has to be later in the month, because of the third point: remember, humans begin their months with the new moon. and in baptism of fire, we learn that regis can only fly as a bat during a full moon.

‘Why are you staring at me like that? I mean, rivers being obstacles to vampires is another myth and superstition. Or perhaps I’m wrong.’ ‘No, you are not wrong. But I can only fly during a full moon, not at any other time.’

so stygga must have occurred on a full moon. the full moons we see in baptism of fire and tower of the swallow occur from [approx.] the 17th to 19th (sapkowski counts multiple nights of the full moon, e.g., "the second night of the full moon"). because regis turns into a bat at stygga castle, it must have been from around the 17th to the 19th of either march or april.

fourthly, geralt, yennefer, and ciri begin to travel during april (chapter 11). though this is not explicitly stated, as in there is no "it was april" describing their scene, we get a couple of lines which suggest it.

one of these is the flash-between of houvenaghel's arena burning down:

On the ninth of April, soon after midnight, the first residents of Claremont were awoken by a flickering brightness, a red blaze (...)

this scene is married with the scene of ciri paying respects to the rats' graves in jealousy. no, it's not stated that this scene happens exactly on the same day, but in tower of the swallow, some days and times when flashed-between have lined up: for instance, geralt's dream of ciri on september 9th, nenneke, iola, and triss performing a ritual spell on november 19th. so it's not out of pocket to assume that this scene with them in jealousy occurs sometime near april 9th, perhaps the day of.

and in order to get to jealousy from stygga, the chapter opens describing their riding:

They rushed like the wind, like mad things, at breakneck speed.

so they must have ridden for some time to arrive at jealousy from stygga, they didn't just appear there suddenly. which suggests to me that they used the beginning of april to travel from stygga to jealousy. this also makes sense considering emhyr would have needed to be in cintra at this time.

another line is this:

May came, suddenly.

which suggests that may snuck up on them as they had been travelling throughout the month of april.

fourthly, the weakest reason why i think the assault on castle stygga occurred in march, which has nothing at all to do with facts, but rather, themes: march is the month of mars, the god of war. i find this apropos. :)

so, following my assumed date of march 19th:

they travel throughout april, following up on ciri's sites to pay respect to (jealousy for the rats' graves, the town of unicorn, vysogota's cottage in the pereplut swamps).

they spend belleteyn (may 1st) together.

then, later in may, geralt has this dream of philippa ordering yennefer to bring ciri to the lodge:

… bring her to us, Yennefer. We order you. (...) … is meeting the first of June, at the new moon. We order you both to appear.

yennefer has to leave the next day after this communication, leaving ciri and geralt to travel together. they're already at the sansretour when yennefer leaves:

‘Where to now?’ Ciri asked dryly, a short while after Yennefer had vanished in the flash of the oval teleporter. ‘The river …’ Geralt cleared his throat, fighting the pain behind his breastbone that was taking his breath away. ‘The river we’re riding up is the Sansretour (...)’

toussaint is in the sansretour valley. when geralt & co. were here months prior, it didn't take them long at all to get to beauclair from following the river, maybe a day or two (there were some complications involving the druids and cahir's scalp).

geralt and ciri arrive in toussaint around the 20th:

It was the day after the full moon when they saw Toussaint bathed in greenery and sunshine.

so i'm assuming that yennefer left ciri and geralt around the 17th of may. philippa calls them - a day passes - ciri and geralt travel for two days - arrive on the 20th.

ciri and geralt go to beauclair, pick up dandelion, and travel for a bit. they basically do their journey from tower of the swallow in reverse: passing through riedbrune, and then crossing the yaruga on the 26th, over a new bridge (not the one they fought on :'( ):

They crossed the Yaruga on the twenty-sixth of May over a very new, very white bridge smelling of resin. The remains of the old bridge–black, scorched, charred timbers–could be seen in the water and on the bank.

ciri leaves geralt and dandelion on the 1st of june, to go to vengerberg to meet with yennefer and face the lodge, as philippa requested to have their presence on the first of june:

‘I, meanwhile, will sort out what I need to in Vengerberg, pick up Yennefer and we’ll both be in Rivia in six days. Don’t make faces, please. And let’s not part like it was forever. It’s just six days! Goodbye.’

of course, dandelion comments on this, confirming to the reader that yes, ciri went [/tp ciri mom]

‘Six days,’ Dandelion repeated pensively. ‘From here [Koprzywnica] to Vengerberg and back to Rivia … All together it’ll be close to two hundred and fifty miles … It’s impossible, Geralt.

then, the rivian pogrom happens on the 6th of june:

It was the sixth day after the June new moon when they arrived in Rivia.

final calculations:

geralt - ciri - yennefer | 2 months | from (approx.) march 19th to may 17th, geralt, ciri, and yennefer travelled together for 59 days, around 2 months.

geralt - ciri | 3 days | from (approx.) may 17th to may 20th, geralt and ciri travelled solo, then picked up dandelion in beauclair

geralt - ciri - dandelion | a little less than 2 weeks | geralt, ciri, and dandelion travelled together from then until june 1st, for 12 days. if you count both, that's about 2 weeks.

geralt - dandelion | 6 days | they travel for six days to june 6th. almost a week.

geralt - ciri - yennefer spent 2 months together, and if you add the time just geralt and ciri spent (including that with dandelion), it's like 2 and a half months after the events of stygga castle.

whether that's short or not, i'll leave it up to you... :(

[endiness]

(the following contains book and show spoilers.)

i have to say, i think the main reason why radovid was aged up beyond the romance with jaskier was to provide redania with the stability it lacked in the books after vizimir was assassinated in order for the show to have a central pov for the north. because the show almost has that with philippa and dijkstra, but the one area that's really lacking — if the show stuck exactly to the books — is the war itself as redania was not in a place where it could fight until the end of the series. but aging radovid up old enough to be king should fix that issue by virtue of redania actually having a leader and therefore not falling into chaos. and even with that change, the show could still feature later issues redania runs into with the war just by having them run out of money by the end of the series and needing more and/or facing so many losses in their army that they need to hire more soldiers.

and within that whole idea, i can see the show using radovid as a substitute for other northern nobility and royalty. like, given the little that is known about radovid in the books and what philippa's plans in them are, the show could easily use radovid in tankred's role as both characters were almost betrothed to ciri in the books. (and i say this fully as a radskier shipper in radskier shipping mode, but i am still ✨ manifesting ✨ radovid being used as a daniel etcheverry replacement.) (also, like, insert speculation about radovid being jaskier's anna henrietta here.)

all of which is to say that i think it makes sense that the show would do something like that — having a central pov for the north and condensing things a bit — because it is a tv show, and one with only 8 episodes per season at that, and as such there's a limited amount of time to work with. the show's focus just with next season alone will already be split enough as it is between geralt, jaskier, and the hansa; ciri and the rats (and bonhart); yennefer and the lodge; francesca and the elves and the scoia'tael; and nilfgaard with emhyr (plus wherever vilgefortz may fall into.) philippa, dijkstra, and king!radovid round out a northern pov — the one pov that's missing — without having to split the focus even more if the rest of the northern nations were really featured. (just to say: i don't think that means the show will erase the rest of the nations, i just think that when it comes to having a central one to focus on, it'll likely be redania.)

(also just to add: i think radovid being aged up old enough to be king likely has to do with philippa, too, and her storyline — or lack thereof. because yennefer has largely taken her role in the lodge, so she kind of needs another storyline to focus on. at least initially, anyway, as i suspect yennefer will eventually leave the lodge to go to skellige and try to find ciri. but in the meantime, philippa still needs a plot and puppeting king radovid makes sense given everything that happened last season.)

but just to bring it back around to the radskier of it all... i think these reasons are why it does make sense that the show would make them love interests. jaskier is already connected to redania by virtue of being the sandpiper, so they have completely feasible reasons to know of each other, meet each other, and fall for each other — and all without taking up time introducing someone that would never have the same political impact and ramifications to the plot that radovid does by being older. (which i do still largely think was the point of aging him up.)

and then there's how their relationship will affect everything in the future — and we know per lauren that their relationship is going to have ripple effects in the future. i know there's been some speculation that losing jaskier on top of everything else will turn radovid ~evil, but i think that's speculation largely based off of the games — which the show has nothing to do with. i think what will happen is actually the opposite and that radovid will try and do his best to remain a good person and a good king — which imo also makes the most narrative sense, too, given that the place we last left off with them was radovid basically vowing to jaskier that he would prove himself to him. he can't exactly do that in person anymore, but he can still try to prove himself to jaskier even if he’s not with him.

plus i still think that the show hasn't based radovid solely off the stern, either, and that he'll end up being more of an amalgamation of all of the king radovids throughout redania's history. and as far as i know, no one on the show has ever confirmed which radovid he's supposed to be based off of and the only thing we do know is that lauren said he's a character that "continues to show up in the books." but that's a description that fits the stern, the bold, and the great. so i think it's entirely possible that through having met jaskier and falling for him, radovid will end up as the great rather than the stern. (also something something radovid, like the bold, going to kovir.)

and just as far as jaskier's side of things go... obviously there's speculation about radovid being jaskier's anna henrietta. which imo does have merit given radovid's status in society and how what we saw of their relationship in s3 fits the picture (and even the timeline, if only vaguely) of jaskier and anna henrietta's romance prior to the books. i don't know how the logistics of it would work exactly, but i think it's completely possible that when jaskier and geralt (+hansa) separate that jaskier somehow stays with radovid. because jaskier really does need to be put on a busTM to escape the fate of the rest of the hansa, and radovid fulfils the same role of jaskier's love interest that anna henrietta did.

and just for one last thing. but it includes season 4 spoilers. like, for real writer's room spoilers. so, y'know, beware of the following if you're trying to avoid those.

imo the leak that happened already kind of proves at least some of my speculation and theories, specifically about radovid and redania being used as a central pov for the north. because they say radovid will lead the troops out into battle when geralt and jaskier escape the northern army camp. but in the books, the forces at the northern army camp were from cintra and temeria. but in the show, the only forces we know for sure are there are from redania as radovid is the one leading them. so either redania has replaced both forces (i don’t see this as likely as the show could’ve just said ‘redanian army camp’ if it were only them, but it’s referred to as ‘the northern army camp’ which implies multiple northern forces), they're there in addition to both forces, or they've replaced one of the forces — likely temeria. either way, it probably means that radovid will either be there as a daniel etcheverry replacement or a vissegerd replacement.

[redskull199987]

Heyy hii I'm not sure if you're still taking requests, but I'll try my luck. Can you write something about Cahir and the female Witcher reader? Thanks in advance if you write.

If I am being brutally honest, I had a lot of fun writing this. Season three renewed my love for Cahir, so I hope you like this:)))

A Bond

Cahir x female!witcher!reader Request

Word count:0.9k

Warnings:it's all fluffy. I probably got carried away and let my inner Jaskier come out

Summary:You and Cahir had been friends for a long time and as he needs your help, you don 't hesitate to be there for him…

Masterlist

You and Cahir had known each other for a long time. You had met him on your travels through the country, as he was attacked by the beast, you were hunting. He was rude at first, but still thanked you. 

The rest was history.

You started running into him over and over again. To a point where it was inevitable that a friendship would form. With you, Cahir could be himself. He was just a normal Person. No Nilfgaard, no white flame, no war. Nothing of that mattered to you. You were neutral. All you were interested in was his person. And he knew that your interest was genuine. And he let it happen. He let the friendship form and prosper. An unfeigned friendship that connected you. 

And when he was cast out, thrown away by his master, like an old doll he didn't want to play with anymore, Cahir came to you. He found comfort in you. He had been through so much, but for once in his life, he felt safe. At peace. He might even say “Home”.

Of course, he would never tell you that, but it surely was on his mind, everytime, he looked at you. Everytime you returned to his small hut, after finishing a Witcher contract. Bruised and battered, but back with him. And only him. Only Cahir got to see you like this. He took pride in knowing that he was the only person in this world, you would trust this far, besides your brothers maybe.

But you told him that you only saw them once a year, in the winter. You told him stories of Kaer Morhen and how you had grown up there, under Vesemir´s care.

You told him that it was hard for you at first, being the only female Witcher. But it had gotten better, the older you got. The more you learned and saw in this world. You realized that no one really cared, as long as they could use you for their dirty work. 

“How was it?”, Cahir asked, forcing himself to return to the present moment. He had let his thoughts wander, after a pleasant silence rose between you, as he carefully cleaned your wounds.

“It was alright.”, you finally said,”It was a small kikimora. Still young and inexperienced.”

“In fighting?”,Cahir asked, not really knowing a lot about the beasts that your job involved. You had told him some things, but a kikimora was new to him.

 You only smiled at him, before finally answering his question:”No, not in fighting. In killing."

He was quiet for a second, not knowing what to say, upon that statement. But luckily, you just continued recounting what had happened.

“The Monster´s head was worth a lot of coin though. I won't have to leave for at least a month. The money will be enough.”

Cahir smiled at you, glad that he got to spend more time with you.He slowly got up from his place in front of you and sat down beside you on the bed:”Thank you. You don't have to do this. Supporting me in my exile, I mean. But you still do it anyway. And for that I am thanking you.”

“Oh Cahir.”, you smiled, your hand rising to softly caress his face. He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into your gentle touch.

“I would proudly ride into death for you, without hesitation.”, you mumbled, as he opened his eyes. You heard how his heart picked up a beat. How his breath stocked for a second, his eyes lingering on your lips, instead of your yellow orbs, which were intently watching him, awaiting his next move. 

You had often thought about your relationship with him. Often let your mind wander to what ifs.

 What if you were more than just close friends? What if you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together. Never leaving each other. What if…

“I love you.”

At first you barely heard him. His words were so quiet. His voice shaking and his eyes darting everywhere else, but your face.  He wasn't usually this hesitant. He was an outgoing and stern person. Always sure of himself and his capabilities. He used to be a Nilfgaardian officer after all.

“Cahir.”, you mumbled, after a few seconds of burning silence. He finally looked at you. His expression now a bit more confident. His heartbeat had slowed and he finally dared to look you in the eye.

“I love you, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach. With all my heart.”, you smiled, your eyes almost glowing with excitement.

Cahir didn't need to hear anything more, before he finally leaned in. Your eyes closed and his lips collided with yours. He was gentle and sweet. Passion laid in his actions. And you knew that he meant every little bit, he had told you.

“I love you.”, he said once again, before slowly pushing you back against the bed. You followed along with his movements, until he was hovering above you.

“I love you.”, you also repeated. You were bare in front of him. Not in a physical way, but emotionally. No one had ever known you as Cahir did. Not even your brothers. He knew your heart and soul. Something that you had shown no one before.

And as he slowly lathered kisses over your body, your moans and whines mixing with his groans. As you fully let him in, you knew that he was the only one  you would ever love this way. He became part of you and you part of him. 

 An unfeigned bond, that was never to be broken again.

[blood-inthefields]

Summary of all my Yennefer/Tissaia fanfics so far...

♠ All we are (is dust in the wind) ¬ It takes four days for Tissaia to find Yennefer after the battle of Sodden.

♠ Pynk (is where it all starts) ¬ In which hot-shot lawyer Tissaia de Vries unknowingly walks into a strip-club and finds herself hypnotized by one of the dancers there. Not how she’d planned her evening to go.

♠ Get naked (i got a plan) ¬ The phone rang, drawing her attention. With a sigh, she picked it up. “Phil, is that you?” Distorted by the line, a muffled voice answered her. “Johnny got clipped.” Tissaia’s hand balled into a fist. “You know what to do,” she replied curtly. The line went dead. She hung up, ran a hand through her hair. A bath would do her good. And then she would go find Yennefer. 

1920s AU.

♠ I’m your sinner (and your whore) ft. JZXR7 ¬ Due to circumstances entirely beyond Tissaia’s control (Yennefer. Due to Yennefer), she’s found herself trapped in her bedroom with a human whirlwind during a minor pandemic.

She has decided, in all her collected wisdom as Rectoress, that the girl has ten minutes to stop talking before Tissaia takes drastic measures.

♠ Want you, yes i do (bet you never knew it) ¬ The first time that Yennefer considers throwing Tissaia on a bed is in Rinde.

♠ I’ll be loving you (til the end of the night) ¬ Tissaia comes home after a hard day at work to find that her girlfriend has a couple of surprises in store.

♠ The one where Tissaia is a freestyle dance teacher ¬ “It’s Tissaia,” Triss told her, concern evident in her voice.

“What’s with her?”

Now closer to the window, Yennefer leaned forwards and watched as her former mentor, way down below, was shaking her arms and upper body in very strange ways. Had the woman finally lost it?

♠ I will let you down (i will make you hurt) ¬ She feels the blade against her throat before she’s even done with her sentence. Tissaia remains calm, despite the cold metal piercing the skin ever so lightly. Something warm runs down her pale skin and she knows it’s blood. Still, her eyes never leave Yennefer’s.

“Why,” Yennefer begins, almost shouting, as she stalks forward until she’s all up in Tissaia’s face. “Why did you let them send me to Nilfgaard?”

♠ My immoral ft. thinkbucket ¬ What’s up preps, I’m Yennefer Fireball Darkness Purple Mist Vengerberg and I’m a teacher at Aretuza.

or, a parody of legendary fanfiction My Immortal.

♠ Didn’t wanna believe it (but now you are all I see) ¬ It’s on their third date that everything goes to shit. In hindsight Tissaia should have known crushing hard on the whirlwind that is Yennefer would mean her life would be turned upside down. However, she had never imagined it would land her in jail.

♠ And now the surface ripples ¬ She’s been scouring the Continent, desperate for a cure for her barrenness when word reaches her.

Tissaia de Vries is dead.

♠ Find my place (in the warmth of your embrace)¬ A look at some entries of Tissaia’s diaries about her ever-evolving relationship with Yennefer.

♠ Stay a while (and be mine) ¬  Post Sodden Hill, Yennefer and Tissaia are back at Aretuza. One night changes their relationship forever.

♠ After hours ¬ Could the torture be any worse? Yennefer wondered. It was bad enough to have to spend entire days with Tissaia stuck in a classroom together with noisy, dirty children but being around her after the day was over and the children and other teachers had left was pure torture.

♠ Wanna kiss you (til I lose my breath)¬ The woman is not just a powerful sorceress, she’s an absolute witch and Yennefer tries to hide but it feels pointless. One look from Tissaia and she becomes an open book.

♠ I will reach for you (when you’re feeling low) ¬ Set in 2.03 after Yennefer shows up at Aretuza and gives Tissaia a gay heart attack.

They know, they all know what Yennefer means to her, how long she’s spent trying to find her.

♠ I used to float (now I just fall down) ¬ Post 3.08. Petals descending from the ceiling. Yennefer knew right away it was Tissaia, from way above up in her study, honoring her fallen girls. She looked at them, admired how they fell silently to cover the freshly dug graves.

Then the pain came.

Sharp, burning, unexpected.

Yennefer gasped.

♠ For neither ever nor never (goodbye) ¬ Missing scene from 3.08. Drabble.

[definitely-not-iorveth]

a couple days ago, a stream featuring andrzej sapkowski came out, supposedly announcing a new book in the witcher series (see link below).

i've watched it, and personally, considering the context, i would reign in my enthusiasm until some kind of official announcement.

i'm including the notes of what he speaks about, for anyone interested.

the first short story started with the title: a male form of the polish word wiedźma (witch) doesn't exist, so sapkowski came up with one. the idea for the story came afterwards.

the first short story was supposed to be a one-time thing. he never expected to write a continuation.

he didn't do any research for the witcher books beforehand because 1/ it's a fantasy book, so he's allowed some leeway & 2/ he already accumulated a lot of knowledge throughout his life by the time he started writing. some research on things was needed during the process, but not a lot of it.

he did do beforehand research for a different, more historical series he wrote afterwards (trylogia husycka).

he once again stresses that the book series is not based specifically on slavic mythology - that was something made up by journalists. he took inspiration from various mythologies indiscriminately, and the plot was more important to him than using any specific sources.

he doesn't remember how many short stories he wrote for the witcher.

back when he started, there was no point in sending manuscripts to publishing houses, because the publishers were not interested in polish fantasy books, preferring the foreign ones. instead, an aspiring writer's best bet would be to send a short story to fantastyka (means fantasy, but only as a literary genre), a magazine that published fantasy & sci fi short stories. at some point he got tired of publishing short stories though, and he sent his manuscript in (he says he doesn't remember what book that was). it was successful, and it encouraged more authors to do the same.

he regrets writing under his real name and not under a literary pseudonym.

nilfgaard's similarities to ancient rome are accidental, and nilfgaard should not be interpreted as based on it. sapko came up with it as an aggressive fantasy nation that wants to take over the world, with no deeper meaning behind it.

first map created for the witcher was the work of the czech translator, and most subsequent maps were based on it (or, as sapko puts it, stolen.) "why i never created a map? pettiness." all fantasy books of the time had a map, so he decided his wouldn't have. and so it doesn't.

the witcher comics were parowski's idea (a witcher fan & comic book author). sapkowski didn't participate in its creation. he tried to give his input about the drawings at first, but the artist basically told him to go fuck himself.

he has a cat

he used to be a senior sales representative, and it gave him some knowledge about sales, banking, currencies and economy which he was able to work into the plot of his stories

he reads at least 50 books per year. of recent works, he recommends madeline miller's circe, steven king's two new books, v.e. schwab's the invisible life of addie larue, peng shepherd's the cartographers, herve le telier's the anomaly, r.f. kuang's babel, holly black's book of night. he considers the above the literary events and fantasy milestones of the past few years.

his commentary on people who study and analyze the witcher and its themes: "they come up with things i never could have come up with." he claims he never assigned any specific philosophy or meaning to his works, but he's happy to read the works of people who do.

he says he didn't base any of his characters on himself in any way. at the same time, his opinion is that it's difficult to write a character that doesn't retain some of the author's qualities. however, the characters are in their own setting and their own story. in his words, "you don't write books about yourself. you write books about characters that you come up with, and you give them their own qualities. […] who cares who i am? the reader is interested in who the witcher is, or who the other characters are."

when asked why geralt is different than the other witchers (more sensitive, kinder), he responds that it's because he's a made up character that's supposed to be interesting for the reader, so he needs to be distinguishable from others. a book is supposed to be interesting, and creating an interesting character is one of the ways to achieve it.

when asked why the smell of yennefer's perfume is so specific, he just says that he made it up and perfume like that doesn't exist.

witchers, although they use magic, are a completely separate group from the sorcerers in the book. there are no common points between them. witchers are also not a reference to any specific mythological archetypes or characters.

he doesn't like announcing what he's doing, because he changes his mind a lot, and doesn't always finish what he starts.

he does say that he is working on a new witcher book and that it should come out within the next year or a couple. considering the context of his words, however, i would consider it as more of a 'maybe' than an actual announcement.