#vesemir x guxart

[therainbowdragoness]

Witchers on Halloween

Cat School Edition

Decorating the Caravan with ridiculously over the top things, like a skeleton hanging out of a sunroof

Nobody coordinates their costumes because they can’t agree on anything.

Aiden usually does something with Lambert, and since the wolves usually have a theme for costumes, he lets Lamb decide what they’re doing.

The younger cats all hit up a club or something of the like on Halloween night.

They have a competition going too. How many people can they each jumpscare before the night is over?

Rules are, you aren’t allowed to use the same method of scaring someone twice and they actually have to be scared, little flinches don’t count.

The cats either dress incredibly sexy or incredibly scary. Sometimes both depending on the costume.

Dragonfly is the reigning champ of the Jumpscare contest.

If Gaetan is with Letho on Halloween, he’s still playing the game. When people walk up to Letho’s place, he ends up running them off, terrifying them in some demented manner whilst his Viper boyfriend is curled up inside, waiting for his boys to come home.

Guxart splits his time. He stays around at the caravan for awhile, getting buzzed and listening to his old music, relaxing by the bonfire he’s built and handing out candy to any kids that come by the camp. Then at some point he douses the fire, straightens everything up around the caravan for when the kits get back (there’s plenty of supplies for hangover cures in the main camper for morning) and then makes his way over to Vesemir’s place to spend the rest of the evening.

[meepthemeeping]

Reunion :)

(If you think of them as friends or a couple, either one is valid. If you want an opinion on what I think the relationship both platonic\romantic feel free to ask.)

[ammarettu]

Day 11 for @12daysofchristmas

Prompt: Christmas Ball

Fandom: Witcher

Pair: Vesemir / Guxart

Words:1030

Rated G

[blooms-in-april]

Jaskier: So your brother Eskel takes the route through the Blue Mountains and your brother Lambert blows things up around Novigrad, but what does your dear father do?

Geralt: Vesemir? Nothing. He stays at the keep. Fixes walls.

Jaskier: Geralt, my dear, be serious. There's no way any relation of yours can stay out of mischief for long. You're telling me a Witcher stays cooped up in that castle, sweeping floors, cooking meals, and dusting like a sweet little housewife?

Geralt: *grunts angrily*

Jaskier, laughing: Geralt, I guarantee your dear father is growing weed and getting fucked whenever you children aren't home.

Geralt: *scarred silence* That's not true.

Vesemir, at that exact moment in Kaer Morhen: Fucking come on, Guxart. Put your back into it!

[scrambleddragonegg]

okay so i have been reading a lot of witcher! jaskier fics and also all of the other ones where jaskier is long lived and geralt doesn’t know (this is also operating on the knowledge from s1 and s2 of the netflix series) and i read one ages ago about jaskier knowing vesemir from when he was younger so i bring you dragon! jaskier and emotionally hurt vesemir 🥰

vesemir: *not moving as he sees a familiar face*

jaskier: OLD FRIEND!!!

geralt: *watching in horror as jaskier tackles vesemir and the old wolf just lets it happen*

vesemir: you were gone you bastard

jaskier: i thought YOU were dead! how was i supposed to know geralt’s fighting wasn’t just standard wolf training? eskel and lambert do the same thing!

eskel: he trained us all but back up for a second, how do you know vesemir?

jaskier: i used to travel with him! back when dragons were more common anyway

vesemir: dear melitele julian, let me breathe for a moment?

jaskier: *hanging on even tighter* no 🥰🥰🥰

lambert: what the fuck?

jaskier: have you been lonely the whole time? you know guxart is probably still around if aiden’s still alive, right?

aiden: you know old guxart too?

jaskier: KNOW him??? i know too much about that old cat! vesemir, remember that time-

vesemir: *tries to smother jaskier*

geralt: *grabs jaskier* hey that’s MY bard

vesemir: *snatching jaskier back* and that’s MY dragon

jaskier: so you do still like to cuddle!!!!!

basically after the sacking jaskier thought vesemir was dead so he never came back to kaer morhen and vesemir thought jaskier was dead because he hadn’t seen or heard from another dragon in a few centuries

also just a random thought that originally witchers weren’t supposed to travel alone, whether that be another immortal creature or their fellow witchers, but jaskier found his way into kaer morhen and latched onto vesemir right away and then everything else happened

also at that point the other wolves should know jaskier but in dragon form but that’s a plot hole i don’t want to touch rn i just like the idea of jaskier being older than the others and still this bubbly excitable bard

[blackberrywars]

I just realised I wasn't following you yet? Which is honestly a crime. For your Witcher ficlets, I'd love to see some grandpa Vesemir bonding time with Ciri as a child. Just a lot of fluff, preferably modern where Vesemir gets to spend an afternoon alone with her

Hi hello sorry for the delay and thank you for this prompt!! It's very cute, and the fluff was a nice treat.

Title: Grampa's House

Rating: G Words: 1,945 Relationships: Vesemir & Ciri, Background Vesemir/Guxart, Background Yennefer/Geralt Additional Tags: Family Bonding, Fluff, Young Ciri, Grandparents & Grandchildren, The Magic of Your Grandparents' House

Summary: Vesemir struggles to figure out what to do while watching his five year-old granddaughter for the weekend because he’s an old-ass man with old-ass man hobbies, like bird-watching, whittling, gardening, and making coffee on the stove because who needs a fancy machine anyway? Turns out, she’s happy to do all those things with her grampa.

AO3 LINK

——————————————————————————————

When his idiot son drops his squealing granddaughter onto his porch, not even Yennefer can hide a sheepish grin. “Business trip,” his bony ass. He can smell a swinger’s party from here. Still, their hesitation doesn’t stop Ciri from running toward him and wrapping her skinny, freckled arms around his thighs.

“GRAMPA!!”

She hits him with the force of a gale wind, and Vesemir can’t help but run a hand through her hair. Whiter than his, but not quite so pale as Geralt’s. Before that thought overwhelms him, he takes both a deep breath and her little, inexplicably sticky hand. She proudly shows him her missing incisor as she yells hello, and she’s so much bigger now, but even still, the straps of her tiny backpack barely fit over his elbow. Her wolf plush toy has a dark stain that might just explain the state of her fingers, but he holds them anyway for the goodbye kisses and hugs. Yennefer gives him a less-stiff hug than usual, and Geralt shoots him a wry smile over her shoulder, nodding in what he probably thinks is encouragement. Vesemir just shakes his head. The pair of them slide back into the ever-beloved shitbox, Roach. Which leaves him with a five year-old granddaughter.

He’s raised several boys over the years in the Wolfe home, all of them hellions in their own special ways. Half of his grey hairs have nothing to do with his age.

That was nearly twenty years and two knee surgeries ago.

Guxart had told him in the morning that he’d do just fine, but that was just before the bastard had blown him a kiss from the driveway and sped off, off to his own weekend away. It was right about then that he realized he has no idea what little girls like to do. Ciri has only been with his son for two years, and they’d got along well, but he’s never watched her for more than a few hours. She’d been littler then. What can he offer her, now that he is old and his own boys are grown, most of their favorite toys destroyed, given away, or lost? When he was younger, this might have been easier. He had more energy then, enough to chase and tumble after a tot without fearing his worse knee would give out.

Cleaning her up is probably a good place to start.

That decided, Vesemir finds an old stepstool and guides her onto it, making sure she washes her hands. He takes some dish soap to Mr. Wolf, who is much fluffier, but just about as gray and scruffy as himself. All the while, Ciri tells him about her life.

“At recess, we play Lions and Ant-lopes! I run really fast! I like taking my shoes off, but Mama gets mad when that happens.”

“Oh? And why is that, lass?”

“It gets my socks dirty. An’ stinky. And —kitty!”

She points to the edge of his windowsill, just behind where the dish soap had been, to a tiny wooden cat figurine. The chubby little creature had been yesterday’s work, hidden in its little nook where his partner would never find it, because the bastard hates washing plates more than anything else. Vesemir chuckles.

“Hm? Oh, yes, for Guxart. It needs some work, but it’s almost done now.”

“You made that?” she asks, eyes wide as dinner plates, “How?”

“Well, if you’re interested…… I suppose I can show you.”

“YES!” she balks a bit, smiling sheepishly, “…please?”

Vesemir spends the next two hours answering that please. He gives Ciri a full tour of the garage-turned-woodworking-shed. Explains to her the difference between his chisels —paring, mortise, tang, that fancy one Eskel bought him that he still doesn’t know the name of— and almost starts in on the mallets before he stops, with no small amount of trepidation. The poor lass must be bored to tears. He braves a look down at her face and finds wide blue eyes and pursed lips. One of his larger chisels is polished enough to show her reflection, shining with curiosity. As deftly as he can, he pulls the little cat out of his pocket, holding it out to her.

“As for this little beast… are you listening?” Vesemir tweaks a pale curl, just to hear her giggle (and to distract from the chisels because she probably shouldn’t touch those until she’s at least eight or so), “What he needs is to be sanded down and polished so he’s shiny.”

“Howdja do that?”

“Sandpaper. The grains smooth out the rough bits. Here. Feel it.”

He fans out his collection, arranged from 40 to 180 grit, and lets her pet each one. He doesn’t worry for her soft skin even though she winces at the roughness because she quickly reaches for the next one. She picks out the 120 grit sandpaper —a bit too fine for this, but he allows it— and lets him show her how to gently smooth out the figurine. Her fingers are still small and clumsy, but she dutifully keeps to the direction of the grain, and the cat feels even softer than her little hands once they’re through. She paints it with a sponge brush and his own polish, a mixture of olive oil and lemon juice, gasping as the red bubinga wood reveals all its colorful stripes. Again, it receives pride of place on the windowsill.

“So…” Ciri asks, somehow even more excited than before, “whad’we do now?”

She’d liked his workshop, dusty and turpentine-smelling though it is.

“Hmm. Why don’t we go outside? I have some birdhouses I made there.”

— — — — —

Ciri squeals over the birdhouses, especially the dark purple one that “looks like Mama!” but the real noise comes when the painted bunting couple —unusually late in the season, spirits bless them— pops out of it. The little husband’s rainbow coat is vibrant as always, and while Vesemir scolds Ciri for trying to chase him, he can’t blame her for wanting to pet his colorful feathers. She agrees, thankfully, apologizing to the ruffled pair. Vesemir settles into the rocking chair he made, and once she finishes cooing at the green little wife, Ciri leaves Guxart’s alone in favor of his lap, and they sit to watch the birds until his hips start creaking.

His garden provokes similar wonder. Vesemir points out each plant and all the weeds that had sprung up in between the rows, which she happily plucks. Ciri categorizes his herbs by smell and taste, ranks sage as her favorite, and eats a little bit of dirt as a control group. He nods approvingly, because little immune systems need help, and then offers some dandelion roots instead, since they still have dirt on them and are more nutritionally useful. Maybe tomorrow they can take a walk and he’ll teach her how to forage properly. It’s good knowledge, especially for a tot. If her stomach is anything like the bottomless pit that was Lambert’s, she should know what will be delicious and what could make her sick, spirits forbid.

By the end of the afternoon, his knees are dirty and sore, and he desperately needs a coffee. Sunshine and sweat have tired Ciri out, but she’ll be up again before long, which he’d need more than a little artificial energy to survive. Quickly, he herds Ciri back inside and into the bath with as little contamination as possible. Once his sleeves are soaked to the armpits, he sets her into a chair with two pillows stacked atop it and heads over to his wood stove. The greca is an old, battered thing now, but it still makes his brew as sweet and strong as it did the day Guxart brought it home. As soon as it’s full, he pours himself a mug and turns back to the table.

“Do you want some?”

Ciri wrinkles her nose, “Coffee tastes icky.”

“That is why your abuelo uses lots of milk and sugar.”

He adds both into her sippy cup to fix what Guxart calls a tetero and puts a suspirito on the plate beside it. Then gives her another three because he’s a grandfather, and it’s his job. They eat in mostly-silence, aside from the gummy sound of her chewing the cookies through her first missing tooth, and the clink of his own mug on the table. Ciri finishes her cup with an exaggerated ah! and he can’t help but smile.

“You liked it, lass?”

“Mmhm! I din’t even taste the coffee.”

Which is usually exactly what Vesemir says to Guxart when he’s making fun of him, but it’s hard to argue with this kind of sincerity. Especially not when she tips her mostly empty cup back again, trying to get the last few drops between the gap in her teeth.

“Grampa, can we watch a movie now? Do yours have color in them?”

His knees cheer for joy even as his eyebrows quirk of their own will, which might just prove her point, along with the fact that he barely had any movies at all. Thank the spirits Geralt had given him a DVD along with her overnight bag. He remembers the fat, seal-like creature on the cover.

“Yes, we can watch a movie. How do you feel about Neighbor Toto?”

“Grampa!!” Ciri bursts out laughing, knocking over her sippy cup, “Nooooo, it’s My Neighbor Totoro!”

“My Neighbor Tot-ro, then.”

“Noooooooo! To-to-ro!”

He smiles and takes their dishes to the sink, letting her pester him until he finally says it right. She nods imperiously, and he can’t help but ruffle her white-blonde hair. She’s more or less a quiet presence beside him as he cleans the greca, right until he pulls out his jar of popcorn kernels. Apparently, those are supposed to come in a brown paper bag, and they get cooked in a microwave. Vesemir owns neither.

“Well, lass. This way is more fun —watch, now.”

For once, he’s glad for the new glass lids Guxart bought, since they let Ciri ooh and ahh and the popcorn exploding with butter (and a little bit of brown sugar). It’s easy enough work to herd her onto his admittedly-ancient couch. Less so when he has to remember how to play movies.

“Spirits, how does this damn thing work again?” he grumbles, unsuccessfully starting to put the brick through the slot, and then pivots back to Ciri, with her wide blue eyes and perked up ears, “Don’t repeat that.”

“Why not? Papa says bad words all the time.”

“Yes, well I tried my best with him. You’ll have to be better.”

“Aw damn.”

He barely restrains a laugh, settling for a cough as he retrieves the ever-so-slightly burnt popcorn. The movie is made slightly grainy by the TV he hasn’t changed in twenty years, but it plays nonetheless, and he can understand Ciri’s defense of it. She’s utterly enraptured, practically bouncing in her seat before she settles in beside him. He wonders if he could carve a Totoro before Ciri has to leave. By the time he hears Ciri go quiet beside him, he’s fully planned out the size and polish he’s going to use, but should he paint it? It’s never been his strength, but he should try, at least. A gentle snore interrupts his thoughts, and the weight against his side grows heavier. Ciri is fast asleep against his arm, drooling ever so slightly from the gap in her teeth. He’ll have to wake her for dinner and clean the (yet again) sticky child, but he can let her sleep until the credits roll. He yawns.

She can help him paint the Totoro on her next visit.

——————————————————————————————

Well that was some tooth-rotting fluff, and I enjoyed every second of it. I tried my best to keep the story in line with Vesemir's gruff disposition, but softened for the modern era and prompt. Ciri gets to be baby, and an utterly curious delight.

greca: a stovetop mokapot, popular throughout Latin America abuelo: grandfather tetero: baby bottle/Venezuelan term for coffee made with lots of milk and sugar, usually given to children or used to mock people who drink coffee this way suspirito: a small, bite-sized meringue cookie

Taglist: @karolincki, @hellinglasses, @girls-and-honey, @halehathnofury, @the-butch-of-blaviken, @keirametzbrassknuckles, @t4tlambert, @alllthequeenshorses, @round--robin, @on-a-lucky-tide (if anyone wants to be added/removed, pm me and I'll have it done no problem)

[thebestworstidea]

The Accidental Warlord Days of Christmas Yule.

Put together by Pheonix on the AWAU discord I immediatly and foolishly said 'oh I gotta draw that'

For starters twelve was the Bear School, I dove into the Wiki, hit up The Fan Cast , and found some ocs, including just making one that wasn't there before. Let's see Round_robin's Greyson, the Bear Quartermaster, Artex as described, Winnie from the AWAU server, Tamuz(my OC), I think that's supposed to be Esra dang it I don't remember now, except that Kolin is behind Tamuz and he was made especially for this group shot. The man touching his beard and the boy with the ponytail both come from the Witcher WIki

11 Cranes Harooing and again, not many Cranes are described so I just had fun in the front is Stefan, ((x) (Crane from Letho's Patrol,) then Adam, Jamie and Ussop, Rhyane is back with Wick and then I just did a pirate Haru. I don't know the Crane with the Goggles but I probably had someone in mind. They're all running from an explosion. It's pretty big so I hope they had a plan.

Now Ten Cats Leaping I could get. I Took fancastings and did my best. from left to right Aiden, Cedric, Axel, Tryste, Guxart, Pawl (oc), Gaetan, Dragonfly, I don't know that guy he looks like he escaped from assassin's creed, no wait I saw a beautiful man and made him a witcher, oops and Kaiyn.

Nine Manticores Brewing: I decided I was going to put the Mantikittens in, because i like them, so Aren was there, and I think Leocadie is showing them how to make one of the potions Aren's been taking. They are varying degrees of interestied. Behind him is my OC Rafel getting told by Merten that he knows he's not allowed to use the lab at the same time Leocadie is there. it's nothing personal, he's just blown up three pressure cookers in the last year. Then there's Mara an OOC from the AWAU discord, and the Manticore that was on the Wiki page.

Eight Wolves a howling was a little easier, I got in touch with my Elfquest/Wolfrider roots and picked a reasonable looking group without even having to leave au canon. Gweld, Lambert, Geralt, Eskel, Aubry (I should have darkened his hair I think) Vesemir, Rennes and Barmin.

Seven Servants Sighing. They are just... what even are Witchers, they just don't know. just when you think you've got them figured out they do something new.

Andrzej the stablemaster, seamstress, Jultia the journeyman backer, Jan the Seneshal, Marlene the head cook you you better beleive gets fancy hairnets given to her by star eyed Witchers who love with their stomachs. Tadeusz who runs the larder, and Antoni the blacksmith.

Six Geese A Tricking. Yes. Six geese. Pay no attention to the name tags

Five Witcher Signs. Intially I had drawn a larger spread hand and each digit had a Sign on it. In the end I just kind of drew them as they appeared on the Wiki.

Four Viper Blades. Duckduck go, search 'snake knife' Yes those two will do. and a Kukri because its a big old knife. We'll ectch a snake on it. And a throwing knife my OC Lew lost in his story.

Three Griffin Eggs: Intially I was just going to draw a little clutch of eggs, but then I thought 'that's dull'. What's a candidate that's not a fledgling or cub yet. An Egg! These three did the old fashioned 'bring back a viable Griffon egg. One of them may be trans. One of them is going to try to hatch that egg. And One of them was the 'Griffin adept' from the wiki

Two Witcher Swords: Straight forward. my lines are less so.

And a Lark Loose in the Keep: I will keep dressing Jaskier up with little regard for the period. This is kind of a coathardie, which is a precursor of the doublet, but the leaf-shaped-dags and drape spoke to me. The outer tunic is made of wool for warmth, but the inner tunic and pants are silk. Holly makes a lovely crown.

[blooms-in-april]

Guxart and Vesemir.

(He likes it)

[meepthemeeping]

It was a drawing. A rather suggestive drawing of a witcher. Not full-on nudity, but close enough that the intent was obvious. Whoever had sketched this had definitely admired the subject… intimately. Lambert blinked, then snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. “Vesemir’s hiding smut in his study? Seriously?” he muttered to himself.

But then he froze. Something about the face of the figure caught his eye. The gap in the teeth, the scattering of freckles across the nose. His stomach sank as realization hit him like a punch to the gut. “Holy fuck,” he whispered. “That’s Guxart. Young Guxart.”

The paper nearly slipped from his fingers as he scrambled to shove it back into the journal, his heart pounding. It felt like the damn thing had burned him. Lambert straightened, swallowing hard, and bolted for the door. His thoughts raced as he made his way down the hall. He needed to scrub his brain clean of that image—acid, fire, anything. There was no way in hell he was ever speaking of this to anyone. Ever.

[stupendouspizzacomputer]

INSANITY (Hellaverse x isekai male reader) The Witcher's Order:

•Master Witcher (The Witcher)

•Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

•Letho (The Witcher)

•Lambert (The Witcher)

•Vesemir (The Witcher)

•Eskel (The Witcher)

•Reinald (The Witcher)

•Coën (The Witcher)

•Adela (The Witcher)

•Adon of Carreras (The Witcher)

•Aiden (The Witcher)

•Alger (The Witcher)

•Amerin of Attre (The Witcher)

•Arnaghad (The Witcher)

•Aubry (The Witcher)

•Auckes (The Witcher)

•Axel (The Witcher)

•Berengar (The Witcher)

•Brehen (The Witcher)

•Chireadan (The Witcher)

•Clovis (The Witcher)

•Cormac (The Witcher)

•Deglan (The Witcher)

•Dermot Marranga (The Witcher)

•Dragonfly (The Witcher)

•Ealdred (The Witcher)

•Elgar (The Witcher)

•Erland of Lavrik (The Witcher)

•Falwick (The Witcher)

•Frank (The Witcher)

•Gaetan (The Witcher)

•Gardis (The Witcher)

•Garascaden (The Witcher)

•George of Kagen (The Witcher)

•Gerd (The Witcher)

•Gezras of Leyda (The Witcher)

•Guxart (The Witcher)

•Gweld (The Witcher)

•Gwen (The Witcher)

•Hemminks (The Witcher)

•Ivar Evil-Eye (The Witcher)

•Ivo of Belhaven (The Witcher)

•Iwan (The Witcher)

•Jad Karadin (The Witcher)

•Jerome Moreau (The Witcher)

•Joël (The Witcher)

•Junod of Belhaven (The Witcher)

•Keldar (The Witcher)

•Kiyan (The Witcher)

•Klef (The Witcher)

•Kolgrim (The Witcher)

•Kristov of White Orchard (The Witcher)

•Lexandre (The Witcher)

•Luka (The Witcher)

•Madoc (The Witcher)

•Merten (The Witcher)

•Mysterious Assassin (The Witcher)

•Olach of Ban Gléan (The Witcher)

•Old Witcher (The Witcher)

•Olivier of Gulet (The Witcher)

•Osbert (The Witcher)

•Osmund (The Witcher)

•Pardus of Korath (The Witcher)

•Rat-Catcher (The Witcher)

•Raven (The Witcher)

•Remus (The Witcher)

•Rennes (The Witcher)

•Rhys (The Witcher)

•Schrödinger (The Witcher)

•Seamus (The Witcher)

•Serrit (The Witcher)

•Sorel (The Witcher)

•Sorensen (The Witcher)

•Stefan the Crane (The Witcher)

•Sven (The Witcher)

•Thornwald (The Witcher)

•Tjold (The Witcher)

•Treyse (The Witcher)

•Varin (The Witcher)

•Vesemir (The Witcher)

•Voltehre (The Witcher)

•Warritt (The Witcher)

[blooms-in-april]

"I don't think I can ever forgive you. For being what you are."

"And what's that?"

"Yourself."

[blooms-in-april]

Guxart trying to get that dick! 😂 😂 😂

Wow - The Witcher: Nightmare of the Wolf anime looks really great. Such beautiful animation. I’m so excited! (And did you SEE this hidden frame they tried to sneak past us?)

[simoondraws]

Husbands 🤲💕

😺✨🐺

[thewolvesandtheirbard]

Guxart asking Vesemir if his kittens can please stay at Kaer Morhen too

[blackberrywars]

WIP Poll Game!

Thank you so much @alllthequeenshorses for tagging me! I'm gonna make two of these, one for the witcher, one for the red lotus

The Rules: post your current WIPs in a 24 hour poll. Whichever gets the most votes by the end gets worked on! The number of votes is how many new sentences you have to add.

Taglist for you and anyone else if they want to play: @halehathnofury, @keirametzbrassknuckles, @t4tlambert, @round--robin, @on-a-lucky-tide, @anonymousblueberry, @jayofolympus, @whyzowl, @yolki-palki

[blooms-in-april]

"I RESPECTED THEM ON MY KNEES WHEN THEY WERE ALIVE" I'm dead, I'm dying, RIP me and Lambert. 💀

Thank you for the Vexart content we do not get enough! Cry 😭😭😭

Miri fucks

Nonnie. My beautiful Nonnie. You are so right. Miri does fuck. I mean, have you seen the Young Vesemir card in the Gwent game (someone please teach me how to play, I am losing so bad in it every time)? All I can say is that Vesemir had game both young and old. This fic idea came about thanks to Novigrad Market on Discord, you could always come and join the fun!

Vesemir’s Bedroom and Other Mysteries

The arrival of Guxart wasn’t unexpected as such. However, everything else that came with it was a surprise. The two old Witchers had only gone into the kitchen for their reunion and nobody knew or even wanted to guess which of them had squealed like that. In a way it didn’t matter because the joy in that sound was so pure, it wiped away everything else. Three minutes later, Vesemir and Guxart re-emerged from the kitchen, smiles barely hidden.

“We ought to welcome the newest arrivals with some food,” Vesemir declared, pretending as though nothing was out of the ordinary. As if his fingers weren’t linked with Guxart’s.

“Please tell me you still know the recipe of your special sauce!” Guxart actually sighed at the thought, much to Aiden’s discomfort. He wasn’t used to seeing his mentor look so, well, lovestruck.

Even worse, Vesemir snickered. “I remember the recipe for all my special sauces. The key is to use the left hand.”

Lambert clapped hands over his ears while Eskel stared into the distance, trying desperately to erase those words from his mind. It had nothing to do with being a Witcher sadly, having heard those words clearly regardless of enhanced hearing so he couldn’t even curse his mutations for subjecting him to such things.

All too quickly everyone was settled around the table which heaved under the amount of food on offer. Without a doubt it would all disappear into hungry bellies in record time but it was still an impressive amount of food.

“So, Miri-” Guxart grinned as he piled up his plate, happy to be interrupted.

“I haven’t been called that in decades.” Vesemir looked nostalgic and soft. “It’s good to hear it again.”

Repeating himself, Guxart looked ever so please, “So, Miri, tell me, do you finally have a bedroom?”

It was a weird as fuck question and Jaskier cleared his throat before speaking. “Did you not always have a bedroom?” He turned to Geralt. “I thought this keep was so big, every witcher had a room of their own for the winter.”

“They did.” Geralt glanced to Eskel, looking for some backup. “Wasn’t Vesemir’s room destroyed in the sacking?”

There was no denying the absolutely delighted way in which Guxart leaned in to watch the conversation. “Oh was it now?” He yelped as someone pointedly kicked him under the table. It only served to fuel his mischief more. “See, the way I heard it straight from the Wolf’s mouth, he didn’t have a bedroom, didn’t need one.”

“I don’t understand,” Lambert said faintly. He didn’t want to understand because the implications were more than he could cope with.

“What Guxy means,” Vesemir announced, “was that I always had a bed somewhere in the keep. I never spent a night alone.”

“I so badly want to high five you right now.” Jaskier looked absolutely ecstatic at the revelation. “You’re my hero.”

Lambert shook his head vehemently. “Nope. You did not. You only know which room was whose because you’re old as fuck and respect the dead.”

“I respected them on my knees while they were alive.”

Guxart laughed brightly and put an arm around Vesemir’s shoulders, giving him a happy squeeze. “That you did. So, when will you show me your bedroom. Maybe it’s my turn to not have a room?”

Food was steadily disappearing as they ate, Lambert keeping his head down and trying to pretend that everything around him was just a bad dream. When Vesemir and Guxart finally stood from the table, he squeaked out one last question.

“Everyone and every bed?”

“Yes.”

A wail of despair followed Vesemir as Lambert threw himself down onto the table. “I salvaged my bed from Rennes. My father figure fucked in my bed!”