#trainee witchers

[proheromidoriyashouto]

Accidental Warlord AU headcannon that the Witchers have to take human carrying lessons. Prior to Geralt's little oopsie, a Witcher on the Path wouldn't have handled a non-witcher at all or with much care whem they did have to. Like having to fight a monster and only having one hand free to shove some scared person behind them or carrying a corpse back to town. It's not gentle handling of relatively fragile (emotionally and physically) beings.

After Geralt's become the Warlord, there's a baby in the keep. And that baby gets handed to different people, all of whom have 0% experience holding a baby, much less correctly.

"The baby doesn't like me."

"Why'dya think that?"

"Everytime I hold her she rolls her head away from me! She doesn't want to look at me."

"She's a baby. She doesn't know what she likes yet."

"...do you think she's afraid of my scars?"

"Eskel..."

"Maybe someone else should watch her for Geralt during meetings."

"No, look. Let's go get her right now and figure this out. Prejudice is learned, right? It's not possible that she could make that kind of judgement I don't think."

"Well, okay but I swear she does it."

"..."

"..."

"...you know you have to support her head, Eskel?"

"...What's that mean exactly?"

"I don't know. Ya just do it."

"Helpful advice."

And like, Jan has to come to their rescue and teach them how to hold baby Ciri properly and how to swaddle her just right and how to carry her in a bjorn sorta thing without slipping out to hit the floor and how to carry her on a hip while still getting work done as she gets older. Throwing her over a shoulder potato-sack style is a sometimes-at-play thing not a consistent means of transporting the Warlord's heir (no matter how she laughs when they do that).

It doubles with chores for efficiency. Bricks and mortar wrapped in old clothing to mimic the general shape of babies which are then strapped to chests or cradled in an arm. If your brick cracks your baby is dead. If the "head" rolls off your baby is dead. If you forget about it off to the side for too long the enchanted cloth changes color to signify your baby is dead.

Literal sacks of flour hoisted onto a hip and kept there all day to mimic clingy toddlers. Your "kid" gets wet the enchanted sack becomes covered in a layer of mucus to simulate how easily they can become sick. Your "kid" drops to the floor, it's been enchanted to scream until you cuddle it into a fitful "sleep".

The Witchers develop a point system and maybe a drinking game about it.

After Geralt, who has learned how to hold Ciri in the trial-by-fire that was traveling the Path with an infant, Lambert and Aubry pick it up the quickest, being the most involved with the current generation of Wolf Cubs.

After a good streak is kept, most Witchers are free to leave the training game, but a good chunk decide to move up a level instead and learn to handle the live children in the Keep. Mostly the little trainees, but also the servants' children. And all the laisse-faire attitudes about dropping bricks and sacks of flour are abandoned immediately.

Little bodies, so warm and heavy in one's arms that when they wriggle away it leaves Witchers feeling bereft. The slow puffs of sleepy breaths buried against hollow throats as children doze off while being held in arms that have been trained ot destroy. The bouncy giddyness of a child-upon-hip delighted at the height at which they see the world as stairs are ascended. A fussy baby distracted by strands of long hair that surround them as a nose buries into their head to breathe in deep that sweet infant scent.

And it feels right caring for the children who are their future brothers and honorary nieces and nephews and cousins. Like something they should have been doing all along. Tending to a kinder future.

[pherryt]

Beneath the Surface of Kaer Morhen

Witcher

Ships: none Characters: Voltehre, Lambert, Vesemir, Eskel, Geralt and minor others Words: 6331 Save a Witcher Bingo - Squares filled:

Chapter 1 G3: Teammates

Chapter 2 I2: Fix it

Chapter 3 G1: Everybody Lives

Summary:

They were halfway there. The Trial of the Grasses was done, and soon those that were left would undertake the Trial of the Medallion. Voltehre was alive and so was Lambert, Remus and Aja. But the death toll had been high. There had to be a better way.

He wasn't the only Witcher to think so.

@save-a-witcher-bingo

[ccghastly]

Witchers Sit Seiza To Numb Their Legs

Mages and witchers with seniority traditionally had anyone below them in rank sit seiza, if they had to sit in their presence or if they were to be in their presence for an extended period of time. 

Among witchers now, if it is done, it's oftentimes a sign of trust or reassurance. If a witcher sits seiza unprompted, they're generally showing that they don't plan on attacking and they mean no harm.

Seiza is also still employed to show or teach respect. Witchers sometimes sit seiza without being prompted to show respect, humbleness, or contrition towards others. The friendliest response to this is prompting the other to 'Sit comfortably' instead, showing mercy, forgiveness, or a returned respect.

The opposite is also true. 

If a witcher asks another to 'Correct your seat' or 'Sit properly', prompting a switch to seiza over comfortable sitting, it shows a lack of trust and amiability.

This headcanon was inspired by Samurai sitting Seiza to numb their legs

(Seiza meaning “the correct way to sit,” became a culture during the peaceful Edo period (1603~1868). To protect the Tokugawa family, the Shogunate’s absolute rule, they forced samurai to sit Seiza to numb their legs and make it more difficult for them to betray them. - By "Let's ask Shogo" on Youtube, From "Why japan loves numb legs")

(Seiza is sitting in an upright kneeling position, with your legs together and your thighs sat on top of your calves and feet.)

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Kaer Morhen keeps a lot of magic objects.

One of them is a mirror that shows you the most beautiful person in the world; however, it does so based on your subjective opinion. Beauty is inherently subjective, so the spell couldn’t work in an objective manner.

The young witchers used to dare each other to stand in front of the mirror. A risky thing to do if the person who showed up in the mirror was another trainee. Or—gods forbid—an instructor.

Nowadays, it just gathers dust in the crumbling Keep.

OoOoOoOOoOooOohoh, I love artifacts and relics and magical mishaps!!!! I can already imagine the many shenanigans the kaer morons and the bard would get into with this "Geralt, how come I only see you in this old mirror?" "Wait- WHICH OLD MIRROR????"

[inexplicifics]

I'm thoroughly intrigued by G/J whipping boy warlord AU, and I also love outsider POV's so maybe L/M outsider POV too if you're feeling extra generous?

And for the heck of it, can you add Buffalo, NY to the map? So much love to literally everything you write!!!

Sure, have a little more whipping boy!

“Mm,” the scarred witcher says, and glances at the old one, who nods. “Then I am sure you will be pleased to assist our older trainees in learning courtly swordsmanship.” Lord Antos looks pleased. Julian has the sneaking suspicion that isn’t nearly the honor Lord Antos clearly thinks it is. “Right then,” the scarred witcher says. “You two ladies come with me, and we’ll talk to Jan. You,” to Lord Antos, “can go with Vesemir. And you can stay here and discuss things with Geralt and Yennefer.” By which Julian is able to deduce that the old witcher must be Vesemir, and the sorceress Yennefer, which means that the Warlord of the North, the White Wolf feared across the continent, is - Is named Geralt?

Here's a snippet of the outsider POV, which is some variety of modern AU:

She’s chatting with one of the other receptionists near the drinks table when Lambert and his wife arrive. The wife is an entire head shorter than Lambert is, and at least a hundred pounds lighter, with long sleek dark hair pulled back in an elegant braid and absolutely perfect natural makeup emphasizing big dark eyes and delicate features. She’s wearing a blue sundress and elegant strappy sandals. She looks like a porcelain doll; she has one hand tucked into the crook of Lambert’s elbow, and the discrepancy between the two of them is absolutely mind-boggling. And Lambert - rough, crude, hot-tempered Lambert - is looking at her like she hung the moon. He escorts her over to the drinks like a knight in a stage play, glances over the offerings, and says, “Oh, hey, they’ve got that fizzy stuff you like.” “So they do,” the wife agrees, in a soft sweet voice, and takes a can of sparkling lemon water; Lambert, naturally, takes a beer. Emily knows for a fact, because she ordered the catering, that Lambert specifically requested the sparkling lemon water. She noted it at the time because it seemed so out of character.

And finally, hello in Buffalo! Hope you're staying warm!

[thedemonofcat]

Due to jurisdictional reasons, the Pankratz family owned part of Blue Mountain, which included Kear Morhen. Although the family allowed the witchers to use the area, they charged a small annual fee.

When Julian Alfred Pankratz, the young Viscount who had just begun to go by Jaskier, was twelve, his father took him along to Kear Morhen on one of his trips.

There, Jaskier met a young witcher trainee named Geralt. It was evident to anyone who observed them that Jaskier and Geralt were fond of each other. As one of the other witcher trainees put it, "Geralt is trying to impress the little lordling."

As a result, Geralt’s fellow trainees made it their mission to try and embarrass him in front of Jaskier as much as possible.

[catscraftsandcommentary]

I am having more thoughts about the Accidental Warlord AU, and instead of apologizing, I'm just going to drag you all with me.

Sorry not sorry, and all that. Today's thoughts are called

"People learn to lie to witchers."

Now, witchers have their fancy extra powerful senses, so they can - theoretically - tell when someone is lying to them. But as Renfri's stepmother learned, they CAN be misled. Especially in cases of "~I~ knew what I meant, it's not my fault that you interpreted my words differently. (Even though I specifically phrased it so that you WOULD easily interpret it the way I wanted, and not the way that's accurate.)"

So, here are the ways I think people could lie to witchers without getting caught (immediately):

EUPHEMISMS (especially with multiple meanings)- like when Renfri's stepmother said "I sent the soldiers on" meaning "...to their deaths" but Coën assumed "...to their homelands."

TAKING THINGS OUT OF CONTEXT - My alma mater's main library has a centaur skeleton on permant display. It's mounted in situ - ie, the bones are still in the dirt, and it is very obviously a human shaped skull and torso on a horse's body. *But* the point of the display is to show that counterfeit "evidence" can be VERY convincing, so you have to question things.

NOT GIVING ALL THE FACTS - "Trump got shot!" In the ear. He's still alive, was barely injured, and unfortunately is still running for president.

STATISTICS - you've all seen polls that are like "95% of people support horrible thing!" But then you learn that the poll runners SPECIFICALLY chose to poll supporters of that Horrible Thing, so *obviously* you got that result. Or "the average human has less than 2 arms!" Well, the vast majority of people have 2 arms, but due to injuries, birth defects, etc some people have 0 or 1 arm(s), so in a group of 1,000 people, there might be 1,995 arms, or an average of 1.995 arms per person...

DEADPAN SARCASM - I'm not sure if this would set off witchers' lie detector ability or not - possibly it would depend on whether the person *intended* to mislead the witcher and they simply didn't catch onto it, or whether a person's heart rate/scent/etc still changes anytime someone says anything remotely untrue.

EXTRAORDINARY BODY CONTROL - I once read a novel where there was a machine which measured brainwaves and somehow interpreted them to measure when someone was suppressing information (ie lying). And in a trial, an experienced criminal had trained himself to beat the detector with psychology but his less experienced partner had not.

DELUSIONS/MENTAL ILLNESS - if someone seems totally sane, but they truly believe that something impossible happened, well, they could testify that it happened. And be believed. But the answer might be "it was a hallucination" or "they were on drugs" or something similar.

-

Now, these will all fall apart under more thorough questioning/investigation - which is good! It means the truth is still there! But in order to do that questioning or investigation, the witcher has to realize that it is NECESSARY. And sometimes the first answer they get is believable, so they might not look closer.

To teach young witchers to recognize situations like this and to practice figuring out the truth, Jaskier comes up with a game that he includes with the trainees' diplomacy lessons. He calls it "For Clarity" and it involves one person making a statement which is technically accurate - but misleading - and a second person (or group) asking questions or making guesses until they figure out what the deception/full truth is.

Lambert hears about it and immediately dubs it "Find The Bullshit." Of course that name catches on.

Jaskier is TERRIFYINGLY good at this game - both sides of it - and all the witchers are reminded once again that they are INCREDIBLY lucky that he's on their side.

[motherofoompaloompas]

Has anyone written an AU where Kaer Morhen is haunted by dead witchers? Like every winter the surviving wolves get back to their home, and the ghosts are like, "Finally! The entertainment has arrived." Some trainee-aged ghosts move fallen parts of the wall to trip up Vesemir. They place bets on fights between Lambert and Geralt. They walk through Eskel to give him chills. When they know someone is looking for a book in the library, they race to see who can find it first and push it off the shelf. Bonus points if it hits something or someone. They get into huge throw down fights about the living's actions and if they are acceptable for a witcher. If that even matters anymore. If they were all brainwashed into repeating a cycle of abuse for each other.

[annmarcus63]

Coën tells Vesemir that he saw something remotely large flying over the old stronghold to the west. Everyone but Geralt is thrilled. Apparently, they've been waiting for an opportunity like this, a chance to take Ciri with them to fight her very first beast as a witcher trainee. 

Lambert, Cöen, Geralt, Ciri and Yen are getting ready to take off the very next morning when Geralt asks Jaskier if he wants to come too. Jaskier tries to hide his surprise under a nonchalant facade, but he can't fool the witcher. The bard accepts the offer not a second later. It seems that his strategy is working after all, Geralt never asked if he wanted to come on a hunt before. It seems, Jaskier thinks with a lump on his throat, that he was in fact the problem after all. 

It's a short walk to the stronghold. Ciri observes the witchers track the beast, she's a fast learner. Jaskier watches too from an unobtrusive safe distance. Until all goes to hell. A royal archgriffin followed by its mate lands on the field taking everyone by surprise. Someone starts shouting orders, one archgriffin traps Lambert under its claws. It's a complete chaos. Suddenly the earth starts shaking, a roar swipes the air, Jaskier's blood goes cold when he sees a big ugly horned creature bolting from the trees. A chort. The new arrival takes everyone by surprise. Ciri ends up cornered by the chort, she has nowhere to go. Geralt is too far away; Yennefer is helping Lambert and Cöen; Ciri has lost her sword and the beast is about to bolt towards her. He acts without thinking. Nothing can't happen to her, he won't let it, even if it feels like he's running to his death. Geralt won't care, but he will if it's Ciri, he'd blame himself. It'd be Renfri all over again.  He won't let it happen. Jaskier shouts with all his might while grabbing Ciri's sword from the grass where she dropped it. He grabs the sword with both hands and plunges it into the beast's rear. Not used to handling swords, his hands slip through the blade, he feels the skin of his palms opening, like butter under a hot knife, followed by a river of blood. Someone it's shouting his name; he thinks it may be Ciri. The chort roars annoyed and turns to the bleeding bard. 

It happens in an instant. He is thrown through the air; a flash of pain explodes in his chest and grows to a cruel entity. He wishes for death.

 

-

He wakes up with a gasp followed by a groan of pain. It seems he's back at Kaer Morhen.

Not dead, then, he thinks with a hint of remorse. 

Triss is there in an instant. The witchers summoned her to help heal him, apparently, he was (is) in a very horrifying shape. He asks her for Ciri and the others, she says everyone is well, just a few bumps and bruises. Jaskier feels relieved.

"You were dead for a couple of minutes" Jaskier doesn't know what to say so he settles for thanking her for saving him. He has two broken ribs and a few more cracked, breathing is an utterly painful experience, but Triss' concoctions help a little. His hands are bandaged, Triss says they need a lot more healing, but she reassures him that he'll be able to play again. In time, at least. 

"I've never seen Geralt like that" she says suddenly "He- he said he couldn't feel you." Jaskier doesn't reply, he's rather immersed in the movement of her hands changing his chest bandages. 

"I didn't know you two were..." 

"No one knows." Says Jaskier feeling tired, body and soul. 

As if sensing the sadness in Jaskier's heart, Triss adds “He was scared.” 

"He would be fine."

"You're his soulmate, Jaskier. I don't think that he’d be fine.” 

"I have never been his soulmate." The bard flinches at his own bitterness. "I've only been a friend. A traveling companion." He corrects. 

“Jaskier…”

"He was never meant for me. Destiny must have got it all wrong, the mark on Geralt's arm should be Yennefer's not mine." He doesn't know why he's saying that to her. Maybe it’s the shock or it’s the pain, but he wants to tell someone, anyone, about another kind of pain he's been carrying all these years. He is crying, Triss hands him a tissue and smiles in a reassuring way.

Jaskier cries silently with intervals of gasps of pain, while Triss finishes his bandages and hands him a cup of fresh water. Jaskier thanks her in a quiet whisper. 

"I couldn't make him happy anyway" he wipes the tears from his eyes and finds that his hands are shaking "She does. She really does." 

"I never take you for the self-sacrificing type" says Triss holding one of his hands and squeezing. He wants to hug her, but refrains from doing so due to her broken ribs.

"I'm not" he clarifies "I'm just realistic. How could Geralt want someone like me when he has her?" 

After a few seconds of silence she says "You are enough, Jaskier." 

He wants to laugh, to disagree but refrains from it. He's only a bard, after all.

There's a knock at the door. They turn at the same time. It's Geralt, he's holding a bowl of stew in one hand and a single yellow flower on the other, and looking at Jaskier with an expression the bard can't quite decipher. 

Jaskier feels his cheeks blushing. Fucking idiot, he must have heard his pathetic monologue. 

"Can I talk to him?" He says to Triss. She stands and says "Of course." She leaves hurriedly, leaving the two staring at each other. Something heavy lies between them.

This is it, Jaskier thinks, this is where my heart will break for good.

Previous here

Next and final

As promised to dear @youknowwhoiam3490-blog (excited for your positive aggressive reading)

@mordoriscalling @dustbunnyprophet @chispy-rar-v2 @strangerzaiah

@help-help-i-need-an-adultlt

@janjan-the-ninth (not a 20 chapter fic but well…)

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

okay witcher au thoughts

most of these are Vibes Based and i can't explain my reasoning behind anything lmao

ghost and roach are both wolves

i already said soap would be a cat, but so is laswell (in witcher canon the cat school is the only one who would take female trainees, but also shes badass and deserve to be cats). soap was her child surprise that she took to become a witcher and she was beyond relieved that he survived not only the trials but the sacking of the caravan

price and gaz are griffins. i feel like the code they have fits their general vibe

rudy would be a viper. no comment.

ale and farah are sorcerers/mages

alex is an elf hiding with a glamour

i will probably have more thoughts later but yeah

[0dde11eth]

Witchers always seem so unfazed no matter what they see or experience on the path. It's what leads people to believe they emotionless.

That's not true. They've just suffered so much worse, and seen unspeakable horrors already in their childhood, so they aren't shocked.

I put examples under the cut, but they are potentially triggering

Seeing a dead bloody body? 7 out of 10 boys don't survive the trials. Many of them were their friends.

Being attacked by bandits or angry farmers? Part of training was to be able to fight off several opponents, and they did not show mercy or hesitation no matter how young the trainee was

Eating disgusting food thats been served to him? At least they aren't fighting off another (also starving) boy for these scraps.

Verbal insults? Do you honestly think the trainers were gentle? Please be more creative with your insults

Being forced to sleep in the barn with the animals? Warmer than a cave atop a mountain where you are trying to survive a trial so you can earn your medallion

[moriitis]

The Proxies are probably the most toughest motherfuckers because they are literally trained that way. Not sure if anyone knows much about the Witcher universe, but basically to become a Witcher, people have to go through trails where most likely they will not survive. The trails are listed as; - Trail of the Grasses - Trail of the Dreams - Trail of the Mountains - Trail of the Sword This is basically to prepare trainees to become Witchers and these trails are fucking excruciating. Like, it's very rare for people to survive because their bodies are being injected, they fight one another until the death, etc. And this is how I personally think becoming a Proxy entails. They are trained to be THE best of the best. They are fast, agile, strong and incredibly good trackers because if they were not, they wouldn't be Proxies. Obviously, Tim, Brian, Toby and Kate are the best of the best, they passed the training and experiments, but there were some that just didn't cut out and ultimately died. I can just imagine the Proxies are not allowed to step out of line either, so if their mental health starts to slip or they begin to question things, they are literally kidnapped for MONTHS to basically be reconfigured back into the human designed to kill. Months of practically torture, hypnosis, brainwashing and then they are dumped back into the woodland to fend for themselves. And because of this, they literally have no memories whatsoever. Literally all they know is that they are a proxy, they are designed to kill and designed to serve and that is what they will do. I always HC that Toby slips up a lot and ALWAYS finds himself in that situation of hypnosis, not remembering why he's in the woods or who Tim or Brian are. He just has to kill. This is why I will ALWAYS HC SlenderMan to be a manipulative asshole, literally taking advantage of people for his own good. And the worst part is after these Proxies disappear for months on end, they come back practically worshipping SlenderMan, talking about how good he is and how amazing he is. Anyway, that's my HC.

This song in particular !!! ^^ Literally the Proxies getting brainwashed and desperately trying to find themselves again. Their brains clawing inside their skull for an answer, why is everything so foggy? Their memories so blotchy? But they are trapped to be nothing but a vessel for SlenderMan.

Images below of what the illustrations of the Witcher trails are to give you an idea. HUGE TW EYE BALLS AND NEEDLES

[kitsunebattleboxer]

So we know from TW3 storyline with the Mad Witcher Kiyan that a lot of the cat school is made up of Witchers with Elven origins. But I’ve never seen anyone mention that this could be the reason they tend to be more unstable? Essentially they use mutations meant for humans (presumably) on descendants of elves and it’s probably a bit fucked. We know elven and human ancestry can physically mess up a person, like is shown with Yennefer, so were most of these trainees physically disabled in some capacity when they were brought to the Cat School? Is that why more schools didn’t adopt this method? Does it have to do with them being slightly closer to the Source and having a bit of chaos themselves which makes them more prone to mental illness? Thinking of Eskel being shown to have proficiency in signs due to his inclination to magic, it seems unlikely. So it must be something more physical/emotional. I don’t know, just pondering. Also, we under appreciate Kiyan as a fandom, please give this poor lad some love, I beg you.

[ccghastly]

Trainee Geralt & The Advanced Obstacle Courses

A little oneshot I just had to write out. It's only about 1k words long.

I hope you enjoy it!

The trainers grew frustrated with Geralt after he'd finished his trial of the grasses(both of them), as he'd slowed down on the obstacle courses.

He used to run the trainee courses with the frantic reckless hope that all the trainees did. Pushed, as they were, by their trainer's harsh words and expectations.

He now plodded through the advanced courses, pausing on every obstacle to watch how the next moved, even after having completed the same courses over and over again. The trainers had tried shouting and beating and bribing and threatening and cajoling and scorning, but still he crept through each course. 

The trainers went to Vesemir, as he was leader of Geralt's Cohort, and Vesemir tried to encourage a bit more confidence into Geralt; he knew that Geralt could run those courses just as fast as any of the other trainees, if he'd just apply himself. 

But still Geralt refused to speed up. 

There came a day that Vesemir was headed to the library and, while crossing a walkway, spotted Eskel running the third advanced course. Curious, and knowing the trainees rarely went anywhere alone, he stopped to see what they were up to. 

The trainees weren't forbidden from running the courses independently, but they rarely chose to in the rare bits of free time they had. 

Eskel seemed to be trying to improve on his speed record, sprinting as hard as he could through the obstacles, and getting summarily swatted off for prioritizing speed over caution.

Vesemir winced as Eskel tucked into a hasty roll to break his fall and crashed into a support pillar of the neighboring course,

"Doing better, Keli." Came a soft rasping voice, 

"Yeah," came a more acerbic voice "Last time you took way longer to fall from there."

Vesemir looked over and wasn't surprised to find Geralt and Lambert stood nearby, they were a trio none had seen pairing up, but they hadn't yet had a spat bad enough to permanently split them. 

Geralt was tallying up the marbles from the counter; a contraption of turning gears and popping ropes the mages had put together to accurately time things. Marbles dropped out of it at specified intervals, the more marbles, the more time had passed. 

The record for the third advanced course by a full witcher was set by Naumir at eight marbles, the trainee record was fourteen. Eskel seemed to have run about three fifths of the course in eleven, which was about where he should in his training. 

Eskel groaned as he disentangled himself from the pillar and pushed himself to his feet, the many scuff marks and skids of dirt on his clothes showing that he'd been at this for a while. Lambert looked to be only a touch cleaner, so the pup must have given it a few tries as well. Vesemir studied Geralt, hoping for even the smallest smear of dust, but was dissatisfied to find he showed no signs of having fallen from the course. 

Vesemir didn't know where the boy's sudden fear of falling had come from, it wasn't a large fall, and he didn't seem to fear heights when climbing or running the walls, but still he refused to take any risks on the obstacle courses.

Vesemir shook his head and began to walk away, but paused when he heard Lambert pipe up through Eskel's plotting and self chastising,

"Will you run it, Geralt?"

Vesemir turned back and watched Geralt study the course with a pensive look in his eye, he seemed about to decline when Eskel spoke,

"Would you? Show me how it's done, Wolf"

Geralt gazed at the course for a moment more then tilted his head to eye his brothers, Eskel and Lambert stared back with pleading eyes, and Geralt finally nodded a slow agreement. Lambert broke into cheers and Eskel clapped him on the arm with a beaming grin.

Vesemir watched with trepidation, and a small amount of hope, as Geralt clambered to the start of the course and stared it down while he waited for Lambert to shove all the marbles back into the counter and Eskel to set everything moving again.

"Ready… Go!" Shouted Lambert as he pulled loose the starting cord of the counter.

Vesemir felt his heart sink in his chest, when instead of launching forward Geralt slid into a crouch, his eyes unwavering from their lock on the course's first obstacle. 

Vesemir might have left then, but there was something about this that felt different, so he stayed and watched his boy watch the rhythm of course.

For the first time Vesemir was able to have his full attention on Geralt as he faced a course and he realized that the gleam in Geralt's eyes wasn't fear, but a fierce calculation.

Geralt's head started a small sway in time with the first pendulum and then, all of a sudden, he was off.

Vesemir felt his jaw slacken, he'd never seen a trainee run this course that fast, or that fluidly. It was as though Geralt knew exactly what was going to happen an instant before it did, he swung around pendulums, under bars, leapt gaps, and dodged spikes without a single toe misplaced. Not a move was wasted.

Vesemir found himself holding his breath as Geralt approached the final stretch, it was designed to force Witchers to use their signs, the obstacles unnavigable without them. 

Geralt threw himself into the fray without a single beat of hesitation. His fingers flowed through his signs, but he left them half powered, giving them the bare minimum of the strength that was needed to let him eel through the great moving pieces, that could and would break any limbs they caught.

Geralt was nearly out when a piece moved a touch faster than he'd anticipated and clipped his heel, sending him tumbling madly into the last set. Vesemir wouldn't be surprised if he left an exact imprint of his fingertips in the balustrade he was clutching, with how tightly he was strangling it. 

Geralt bounced off one clapper into another, and kicked off a third to tumble desperately over the finish line and, blessedly, off the obstacle course. 

Only then did Vesemir register Lambert and Eskel's screaming whoops and howling. Geralt's brothers rushed to congratulate him and Vesemir sagged to the floor of the walkway.

As he calmed, Vesemir began to make out words over the thunder of his heart in his ears,

"TEN!" They were screaming "TEN! GERALT!" and Vesemir felt a grin creep onto his face.

I do have more on this, so if you have any questions feel free to ask!

💝 Thank you for reading 💝

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Witcher trainees who passed the grasses still had to undergo a lot of training.

One of the first lessons they were taught upon recovery featured a training dummy. The trainees were each given their own dummy and told to destroy it. However they want. Eskel burned his with igni. Lambert used his bare hands to rip his to pieces. Geralt just remembers swinging his sword until there was a pile of sticks and scraps.

Then, the trainer told the young witchers to put their dummies back together.

The sinking feeling they had while looking at their at the destruction they had wrought—the hours Geralt and Lambert spent with a needle and thread as Eskel was forced to stare at his pile of ashes—was the true lesson.

It is far easier to destroy than to fix, to hurt than to heal. Because they were stronger, they had to be that much more careful.

The metaphor of his training dummy stuck with Geralt.

Years later, he invited Jaskier to Kaer Morhen.

Because Jaskier wanted to be accepted by all of the other witchers, he kept looking for ways to be helpful.

That’s why Geralt stumbled upon him sewing old practice dummies back together.

I loveee thisss ;w;

[inexplicifics]

Thank you so much for doing these snippets! Could I request maybe L/A Collared Aiden or L/V/M begone to the witchers pretty please?

Have some cuteness from the "begone to the witchers" doc!

“She said she thinks her father has disowned her.” “Huh.” Vesemir hums. “Well, if she does decide she cannot bear it here, we can send her to Nenneke in the spring.” “Oh, good thought,” Voltehre agrees, and turns to Aubry, clearly setting the topic of Miss Milena aside for the nonce. “How did the training hike go?” “Well enough; one of the lads found a berry bush.” Aubry is smiling faintly; he’s very fond of his little lads. He’s been in charge of the youngest trainees - the lads too young even for weapons training - for a few decades now, and he’s good at it, patient and calm and gentle. Lambert would’ve been a lot less of a bastard if his first trainer had been someone like Aubry. “Are there any berries left on it?” Vesemir asks dryly. Aubry snorts. “A few. Very high up.”