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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1: The Meeting

Summary: Ina of Cintra the Lioness's firstborn daughter has been a well-kept secret. her title as princess never leaving the castle walls, her abilities, abnormalities not being uttered without the blessing of the queen. She has her entire life planned and guided so she doesn't break the Crown's rules. She has been an outstanding model of good behavior, that's until she meets a certain witcher.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Blood and gore, swearing, mentions of death

“Ma’am…” Knock, knock, knock. I had heard whoever it was coming to wake me up before they even got to my door.

“Yes?” I heard them hold their breath, they weren’t expecting me to be awake.

“Uh-uh yes ma’am, Druk is outside. He has sent for you.”

“Yes thank you. I’m awake.” I said as I rose from my bed. Folding at the hips my fingers gazed at the floor as I yawned in a stretch. My spins cracked along with my shoulders.

“Yes of course ma’am” There were no footsteps and the heartbeat was still there outside the door.

“You may leave now.”

“Right right, yes ma’am.” Scurried light footsteps filled the empty hall as they left.

With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the day I had ahead of myself. Mornings with Druk were never different. The day was was one full day of drills, day two was one different full day of drills than to day three, four, five, then repeat next week. Druk wasn’t like other witchers I had met. He wasn’t focused on the coin or glory. Maybe it’s because he saw his brothers and mentors be slaughtered when his Keep fell.

“Knock knock.” My eyes snapped to the door of my room, dragging attention away from the gauntlet on my. My mother stood at the door. She was still in her sleep clothes, a wool robe hugged her body as she smiled softly at me from the door.

“Morning mother,” I said looking back at my gauntlet, huffing in frustration as I struggled to get them tied.

Wordlessly my mother walked across the room, grabbing my arm as she sat in the chair across from the one I was in. her fingers delicately tied the strings tightly, the gauntlets tightening around my wrists. Once finished, she softly held one of my hands, her face was cold, stoic as always. But once she looked me in the eyes I saw the fear.

“You know, don’t you…” I nodded my head. Looking out the window of my room, breaking eye contact. I stood up walking from her to the armored cabinet in my room. I grabbed my two swords from their hooks looking over them and assessing their sharpness.

“I heard you and the court talking last night. Many in this castle forget I have super hearing.” I heard her sigh heavily, shakily.

“I’m so sorry, Ina…” I turned to her. Her gaze was on the floor, her chest rising and falling fast.

“Mum...don’t cry…” I crouched down by her side, my hands going to hers squeezing them. She looked back at me, one hand cupping my face. Her thumb softly brushed over the scar on my left cheek.

“I’m so sorry I brought you into this world...Into this life...I wish I had known your life would be so painful…” I leaned into her warm hand, my eyes closing as she spoke.

“Stop blaming yourself...everything happens for a reason...and no matter what happens after the meeting today...I will always love you.” Her hand moved from my face to my neck. She pulled me into her chest, hugging me tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” Hse sobbed into my hair, rocking us back and forth. I said nothing, just kept my arms around her, holding her while she sobbed. Her tears wetting the spot she laid on my shoulder.

“Don’t be…”

“You know princess, I do not normally wait. You are lucky the gold and wine your mother gives is so good.” Druk’s voice was below a whisper as we snuck through the damp dark woods. My hands felt the tree bark under us as we slowly tipped around the fallen trees, as to make as little noise as possible. Funny with Druk’s big mouth.

“My mother is very worried about the meeting tonight,” I whispered back, following him as he weaved in and around the thickly wooded forest. We were hot on the trails of a stray kikimore that had been terrorizing a southern village. Druk and I were sent to take care of it.

“Are you worried?” Druk asked, pausing to look back at me.

I stopped too for a moment, thinking about his question.

My eyes searched the forest around us while we sat in silence. The forest was no longer lush and green. Late Saovine meant the world was cold, covered in ice and snow. Nothing was awake. All the animals were in hibernation, birds had flown south for the winter. The only things still awake were the monsters.

“No. I’m not. Should I be?” Druk looks away from me, his amber eyes searching the forest around us.

“Tonight is the night a pannel of witchers, mages, and the royal court you belong to decide if you go through the trials...maybe a little of fear. It would be healthy.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Fear isn’t necessary for my vocabulary.” Druk laughed softly, his head nodding as he looked me in the eyes again.

“Then don’t be afraid. Fuck em all. If any woman could survive the trials it’s you.” Once finished with his small sentiment, a cheesy grin spread across his face. He nodded his head in the direction of the kikimore and we both rook off after it again.

Our feet lept, ran, jumped, and sprinted across the fallen trees and rocks throughout the forest. The snow-covered ground would cause too much noise. Druk had gone to the Witcher school of the cat. He prides himself on his ability to remain stealthy and quiet, all while being just as lethal as witchers from other schools. He taught me to only put my feet on the ground when it really mattered. You’re much easier to be tracked and killed when you travel foot to the ground. But foot to a tree to rock is a different story.

Jumping from a rock onto a tree we scaled the side till we were above the tree line. Out heads stuck up and out of the dead branches. Our chests rising and falling heavily as we looked around, noses sniffing out the location of the kikimore. The high point giving us the advantage. Druk’s yellow eyes scanned the trees below while I sniffed the wind. He had better eyes than I. his mutations to thank for that. The wind blew softly and the thick smell of iron and rotting corpses seeped into my nostrils and filled my head.

“To the east,” I said quietly. Druk adjusted his direction eyes grazing the land elbow us. A small smirk graced his lips, he found it.

“It about four hundred yards northeast. Common princess no time to waste.” We quickly scaled our way down the tree till our feet were steady on the branches. He wasn’t wrong, we were already out way longer than we were intending. Meaning we were going to be late for the meeting.

Druk took the lead. His hand holding the hilt of his silver swords. His other hand out in front of him, his fingers gleaming with a soft blue tint. Aard was spoken in elder inaudible to the average human. He was prepared to blast the kikemore to give me more time to ambush it. Druk only ever took the lead, then he’d stand back and watch. He’d teach me a new skill by charging whatever beast. Whether it was a new sign manipulation, a new combat skill, or hell even how he wields his sword. He started, I’d then follow and clean up.

“Ready Ina?” There was a soft pop and a cork fell onto the ground below us with a soft thud. His head fell back the liquid pouring down his throat. He grimaced slightly before turning to me, his eyes were black as night, now white to be seen. The veins on his neck, face, and hands were dark black and bulging. The potion was vital for witchers, giving them heightened senses, and skills. Allowing their powers to increase.

“So fucking ready,” I said, a smile gracing my lips. He returned the smile, his more sinister with the help of his eyes.

My sword was in hand. The silver catching the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds above. We both moved silently through the brush. Out feet feather-light against the snow. We moved fast, never keeping pressure on one spot too long to not break the crust of the snow. Druk made it to the clearing first. The Kikimore was alerted to us as soon as we reached its small nest.

Druk’s hand thrust out in front of himself, a huge ball of blue light smacked into the kikimore, throwing it back and hard into the tree. Druk sheathed his sword and ducked behind me. The kikimore shook its head before it made eye contact with me. I crouched lower to the ground, eyeing the beast. It slowly started to move to its left, so I mimicked it. We slowly began circling one another. The Kikimore’s large gray limbs stabbed into the ground with every step. Its gross snarly face, red beady eyes looking me over, studying my every move. The only issue was I knew where and how it would be.

The kikimore pounced, its legs kicking up dirt as it tore after me. The short distance between us was gone in no time. I lunged out of the way. Diving and rolling away from the clumsy beast. I was much smaller, giving me an advantage.

“My my what an ugly fucker you are.” I mocked. The beast turned to me again, and let out a low grumbly growl. I was moving closer to its nest. I could smell the rotting bodies even worse as I moved slowly. My eyes never leaving the kikimore.

It charged again. I slashed my sword through the air, spinning around, splicing my sword up in the air. The kikimore squealed and screamed as its leg fell from its body. Spinning on my heels my sword slashed through the air again, making contact with its neck. The sword slashed through the beast’s thick, fat neck like butter. The screams stopped, the kikimore’s body falling limp on the ground, blood-spewing, and pooling on the ground and around my boots. I sighed heavily, a smile gracing my lips again as I whipped the dark black blood from my blade before sliding back into its sheath on my back.

Clap, clap, clap. “Very well done princess!! A full-grown warrior kikimore down in two strikes, no potions or magic!” Druk had a smile ear to ear, his potion still in effect. Seeing a laughing, happy smiling witcher with pure black eyes was a sight to see.

“Only as good as my mentor my dear friend,” I said with a laugh. Crouching to the ground, my hand gathering the small tuft of hair atop the kikimore’s head and lifted it so it was eye level with me. Blood dripped from its mouth, nose, and eyes. Its dark purple tongue hung out of its mangled mouth.

“Add another one to my list.”

III

“Common hurry Druk!!” I yelled through the rain as we ran up the cobblestone road towards the castle. The kikimore’s head swung over my shoulder. “We are already late they will have my head!!” Druk ran from the stables after me, quickly catching up with me right as I neared the doors.

The two guards opened them for us as we walked through. I breathed heavily, my lips blue as my teeth chattered. Despite my many abnormal traits I still got just as cold as the average human. The rain had come out of nowhere. The two of us speed walk down the corridor, our muddy boots squeaking against the marble floors as we got closer to the royal library. A place I’d only ever been when I was being threatened by the crown’s court. The doors appeared ahead of us as we both halted before we could be close enough to be heard. The floor below us was wet as we dripped head to toe.

Glancing at Druk I gulped, now that I was about to walk into the room, I was more than terrified. The prospect of the trials was so much closer than they had ever been my entire life. Druks hand went to my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this.” He whispered, before giving me a soft push towards the door. I took a deep breath before shoving the door open, swallowing the fear and placing the stoic look of my mother back on my face.

The voices in the room stopped when I walked in. my boots stopping heavily on the floor. My eyes glanced around the room, everyone there were people I have known for many years. My mother stood in the center of the room by her throne, my sister who was not supposed to be here was next to her. They looked scared.

“Sorry, I’m late, had a prior arrangement.” I heaved the beast’s head over my shoulder and threw it on the floor. It flopped down and rolled a little its tongue falling out as its cold dead eyes stared up at Gadri, a member of the Crowns Court. His face scrunched in disgusts before he kicked it away from his shoes.

“You are nearly three hours late, Ina.” I rolled my eyes my attention going back to my mother and sister.

“What is she doing here?” I asked pointing to my sister.

“We think it’s important that the future queen gets to help make choices regarding her subjects.” Hazzez, a plump fat little man with a bald shiny head and large white mustache and beard said standing from his seat.

I huffed, the corner of my lip pulling into a sly smirk as I shook my head. Water falling on the floor.

“Yes, the future queen who passes her sister even tho her sister is the senior. Yes, and my sister needs to be in control of whether I will be subjected to the trials and if I’ll die or not.” Druks witcher attitude tended to rub off on me. Witchers are trained, to be honest, overly honest. Blunt and rude is what many present them as.

“Ina. enough.” my mother said sternly, her jaw tightening. I bite my tongue nodding my head. My fingers pulled at the buttons of my jacket, throwing it on the floor in a wet pile. The room was cold, making the wet clothes on my body send shivers down my spine.

I glanced around the room, eyeing the other members of the Crown’s Court. And then the other few people who were in the room. Tissaia, a mage from Aretuza smiled at me fondly as we made eye contact.

“Hello, princess, my how you’ve grown.” Her voice filled the empty room. I smiled back at her.

“Tissaia-” I bowed my head to her softly, “yes, it’s been a while hasn’t it? What 15 years?”

“17 years.” my mother chimed in behind me.

“Whos the mystery man next to you?” I asked her, she glanced over at the witcher who was perched next to her. Druk was seated next to him.

“Well get to that in a second. Please sit down.” Hazzez said, gesturing to a lone isolated chare in the middle of the room.

It was as if I was on trial, for simply being born.

“Druk how has she been doing?” My mother asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the five men who were attempting to discredit the years of work and training I had done with Druk.

Durk rose from his seat next to the other witcher, a bored look on his face. “She is exceptional. Not only her physical talents in combat and swords but her book knowledge. I’ve trained three other witchers before her, and none of them come close to the skills she posses. She is a skilled alchemist, a skilled swordsman, she is skilled in nearly every talent she tries. I would trust her in a battle to have my back any day. It has been an honor training her for 15 years, your highness.” I smiled at him, a smirk covering his lips.

“With all due respect your highness we are not interested in what the witcher from a failed school has to say. The witcher to his right has been watching her and keeping track of her success. That’s who we care about.”

Before the witcher could address them, Tissaia stood up. “What is the problem here gentlemen. On her fifth birthday, you all made this a rule. You said her abnormalities would only ever benefit her if she was trained as an assassin or a witcher. She has been trained for 17 years by a witcher, as a witcher. She has proven time and time again she doesn’t need the trials and mutations to be as skilled as a witcher.”

“Thank you, Tissaia, but need I remind you that you are only here to as a stand-in for the mage in your court who can still perform the mutations. Please sit down and be quiet.” My mother shot Tissaia a look, making her shut her mouth and sit down. The witcher next to Druk stood up.

“I have been following her and her trainer. For months now. Even just today I followed them while they killed the stray Kikimore. She killed the Kikimore with two strikes something many of my boys have struggled with as fully mutated and trained witchers. She without a doubt has a talent and a heart of the witcher.” I heard my mother’s breath catch in her throat as she held my sister’s hand. My sister was stating at me, had been since I sat down. Her face was painfully still, her throat tight as she breathed heavily. She looked scared, so did my mother.

“Tissaia, you will take Ina to Kear Morhen. Along with the mages in your court. The mutations will be done by the end of the week.” My throat ran dry. Hazzez kept talking but my brain tuned him out. None of us thought they would go through with this. The chances of me surviving the trials and the mutations were nearly impossible. Less than 20% of the boys who face the trials died. And the mutations are designed for male genetics, not females. I was never supposed to be mutated, just trained.

“Hazzez you piece of shit!!” My mother screamed as she stood from her chair. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh.

Her hand came down quickly with the shinny dagger, flying towards Hazzez face. My hands quickly caught her arms and I pushed her back. Knowing if she killed one of her court members over me I would surely be sent away and killed, no chance of survival.

“Mother mother please stop it please,” I screamed into her red, tear-stained face as she attempted to fight me off. Her chest rose and fell heavily. She hissed through her gritted teeth, she was probably breaking teeth.

“Queen Calanthe-” Hazzez spoke. I turned to look at him, my back to my mother. Her dagger is in my hand. I threw it to the floor, kicking it away. “Do not forget the sympathy the crown, and your father gave you for your bastard daughter. She should have been killed out of the womb. But your father cared too much for you. Count your blessing that you got 20 years with her, and at least she will die with a little bit of dignity.” Hazzez stood up to leave, the four men ready to follow him, they gathered their belongings.

“Gentlemen.” My mother said, her voice harsh and cold like the wind outside. Her brows set in a low glair as she looked them up and down. “I am still your queen, you do not get to control everything. It’s clear you’ve made your choice, but when it happens. That is my choice. She is my daughter. I choose when she goes with the witcher. I do not know when that will be but it will be after her sister’s betrothal. If you have an issue with that, find a new court to control.” the five men looked at her, then each other before nodding and walking out of the room silently.

My mother’s hands held my arms as she dragged me into her chest. My sister came up to us both, her hands wrapping around both my mother and me I. her head resting on my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around her and one around my mother, I let my fear fall. My fear came out in silent sobs. My shoulders shook, my eyes clouding as I stared at the wall behind my sister. The tears pooled down my face.

My mother pulled back, one hand on each of my cheeks, her fingers brushing my tears away.

“You will be the first female witcher to ever be. You will make history.” my shoulders started to shake more violently as I cried more. The impending end of my life is on the horizon. My mother’s denial was just to help her cope, but we both knew how it would end.

“Mum...we both know what will happen to me...I won’t survive it.” my voice was broken as I spoke caving as I cried. Her fingers moved faster to wipe my tears as she shushed me. My sister’s hands are on my arms and back.

“Even if that’s the case, it won’t be for at least another month. Live your life for the next month the way you want to, no regrets,-”

“No hesitations.” I interrupted her, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her eyes softened at me. She leaned in placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

“You can do this Ina. You are the Lioness Cub. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

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eredins-a-king-aint-he · 4 years ago

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It’s all posted now :D

#my fic #gaunter o'dimm #gaunter o'dimm & oc #fic #the witcher 3 #post second conjunction #oc ina #oc janom #oc maryn

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roughentumble · 5 years ago

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anyway blood and violence and People That Just Arent Quite Right are fun. hannibal+dexter+parts of spn Very Good

#i could spin the witcher that way too but tbqh #its more of a deconstructuon of that idea #and the whole POINT is geralt's humanity #so i dont. it feels wrong #but the potential is there and once ina while i side-eye it intriguedly

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some-stars · 5 years ago

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so, prompt. I was thinking, considering you're coming off a high, what about geralt getting high, and he's like, really confused by it? Like, he didn't think weed (or whatever magical equivalent) would affect his witcher body? so Jaskier has to take care of him and make sure he doesn't just spend the night lying in the river and telling roach how much he loves her. Maybe some feelings are then spilled? ps. LOVE your kidfic. Have fun with the rest of your high!

I would like to turn this into a proper story at some point, but for now, enjoy 1800 words of Geralt getting so, so stoned and soft.

(Obligatory note: I can’t edit replies to asks once I post them or the cut/readmore will vanish, so please forgive any typos or errors.)

Geralt held the pipe that Jaskier had passed him carefully, as though he might break it. "You know this won't work on me, right?"

Jaskier, who had already taken a deep puff of the stuff, looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Witchers can't get drunk," Geralt said. "At least, not on regular liquor. I doubt this—what did you call it? I doubt it'll be any different."

"Cannabis," Jaskier said, pronouncing the word lovingly. "And you never know. It doesn't feel like alcohol, maybe it'll work differently."

With a shrug, Geralt put the pipe to his mouth and inhaled, more to be polite than anything else. After all, Jaskier had apparently gone to significant effort to get hold of the stuff; that he was sharing it with Geralt was a measure of real friendship, and it would be rude to refuse. The smoke burned a little, and dried out his mouth, but he took another puff and quickly got used to it.

"There you go," Jaskier said, smiling as he took the pipe back. "You're a natural, didn't even cough. I coughed like the devil my first time."

"Hm," Geralt said. "Don't feel anything yet."

"Oh, I've heard that before." Jaskier's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Keep going, give it a minute."

So they passed it back and forth in pleasant silence until the crumbled, fragrant dried flowers that had filled the bowl were only ashes, at which point Jaskier tapped it out onto the ground and pulled out his pouch to fill it again.

"Feeling anything yet?" he asked. He clearly was; he'd started to sway gently from side to side, and his face seemed locked ina soft, pleased smile. Geralt took a quick inventory of his senses.

"Not yet," he said. And then, not really knowing why, he said, "Maybe I should try some more."

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea," Jaskier said, beaming. "Here, you light it this time, I hate messing about with a flint." He held the pipe out and Geralt cast the gentlest of Ignis, just enough to get it going. Jaskier handed it to him then, not even taking a draw himself first. Geralt breathed it in, and already the smoke felt less acrid, the taste less offputting. He found himself puffing away for several minutes, until suddenly Jaskier leaned forward and plucked the pipe from his hands.

"Careful now," he said. His voice was very gentle, and it sat pleasantly on Geralt's skin. "If this does work on you, I don't want you going overboard your first time. Let's just sit a bit, see if it kicks in."

Sitting by the fire next to Jaskier seemed like a lovely thing to do, so Geralt nodded agreeably and sat. He hadn't realized before what a beautiful night it was—he'd noticed the clear skies, of course, when assessing the weather and deciding whether to camp in the open or build a lean-to to shelter under, and he'd been aware of the temperature and humidity as potentially-relevant facts, but no more. Now, sat before a crackling fire, he felt that he could actually appreciate the cool, dry evening air, and the riotous spill of stars across the sky, forming familiar shapes he hadn't really looked at in years.

He didn't realize he was staring at them until Jaskier nudged him companionably. "What are you looking at?"

"The stars," Geralt said, still gazing upwards. "There's so many of them, and they're so bright."

"You're smiling," Jaskier said, voice rich with delight. "So much for cannabis not working on witchers, hmm? Look at you."

Geralt felt a faint echo of embarrassment, as though he ought to be embarrassed, and an even fainter echo of alarm, because he was—he realized now—in no state to keep an alert watch for any danger. But they were only echoes in the back of his mind; the rest of his mind was occupied with feeling better than he had in—hell. A long time.

"Give me some more of that," he said, reaching for the pipe, but Jaskier pulled it out of his reach.

"Just a bit more," he said. "Let me fill it again, it's gone out."

Geralt managed to tear his gaze away from the night sky to watch with fascination as Jaskier emptied the bowl and filled it again, fingers working delicately to crush the dried flower buds down to the right size, then gently tamping them in with a light touch. He had always liked Jaskier's hands, though he tried not to think about it much. He wasn't sure why he shouldn't think about it, though. They were beautiful hands, fine but strong, the calluses on his fingertips a testament to his skill.

Jaskier took a deep draw off the pipe, then sighed rather beatifically and handed it to Geralt. "That's enough for me, I think," he said. "I'm feeling about as fine as I can handle."

"That's good," Geralt said, and took a puff himself. It was hard to close his mouth around the stem, he realized, because he couldn't seem to stop smiling. "You deserve to feel good, Jaskier," he said, and with the hand that wasn't holding the pipe he reached for Jaskier's hand, took it and turned it palm up in his own.

Jaskier jumped a little when Geralt touched him, but he settled easily. "Oh, you're definitely high," he said, his voice warm and fond. The sound of it tingled over Geralt's skin wonderfully. He was, he realized; he was undeniably affected. Apparently his resistance to alcohol had no bearing on this particular substance. This time not even a distant ghost of alarm haunted him at the realization, and its absence felt almost as good as the presence of pleasure.

He was still holding Jaskier's hand, he realized, drawing slow circles over the palm with his thumb as he drew more deep breaths from the pipe. He glanced up. "Is this okay?"

"What, you holding my hand?" Jaskier smiled, a little crookedly. "I don't object, darling. Go right ahead."

Permission granted, Geralt started to stroke up each finger, lingering on the callused tips, unreasonably fascinated by their texture—the contrast of the smooth, unworked skin of his palm with the rough layers of horn he'd built up over the years. He hardly even noticed when Jaskier gently plucked the pipe from his other hand; he'd stopped smoking by now, too absorbed in his task of examining Jaskier's fingers. No, not examining, he thought. Something more than that. Knowing. He wanted to know Jaskier, the way he knew the night sky.

He glanced up and met Jaskier's soft gaze, and for a moment he felt captured by it. He'd seen Jaskier look at him like that before, but only in stolen moments—usually when he thought Geralt wasn't looking, or when Geralt was terribly injured (though never so terribly as Jaskier claimed). He'd always liked it, though—for reasons that escaped him at present—he'd never cared to admit to himself that he liked it.

"May I," he said, and lifted Jaskier's hand to his mouth. His lips were tingling, a wonderful feeling, and he knew that the feel of Jaskier's calluses against them would be even more wonderful.

Jaskier's eyes widened. "Uh. Yes? Go right ahead, I guess." His heartbeat had quickened when Geralt asked, but he didn't smell afraid, and there wasn't any fear in his voice. Geralt supposed that this was odd behavior, but at the moment it didn't seem to matter. He closed his eyes and gently pressed his parted lips to Jaskier's fingertips, and the sensation of the callused skin grazing them was as lovely as he'd imagined. Jaskier's heart thumped away almost frantically now like a deep drum, pounding a beat too fast to dance to.

"My lips feel amazing," Geralt murmured, because they did, and it felt imperative to give voice to that fact. He opened his eyes. "Do yours too?"

"I—I—" Jaskier stuttered. There was a deep flush high on his cheekbones now, and it made him look beautifully delicate, though Geralt knew he was no such thing. Jaskier was stronger than he looked, and tall and broad, but at the moment he looked as though a harsh word might shatter him to pieces. A wave of unbearable tenderness swept over Geralt then, and a desperate need to make sure Jaskier felt as good as he was feeling right now. He kissed each fingertip, enjoying the choked noise Jaskier made, and the sudden strong scent that floated up between them. It wasn't new—he'd smelled Jaskier's arousal before, often in the early days of their acquaintance, then less frequently, except when Jaskier returned to their shared room after bedding someone. But it had never entirely gone away for good.

"Geralt," Jaskier said, speaking slowly and carefully, "are you sure—I don't think you'll be glad that you did this, when you're sober again."

The quiet sadness in his voice ached fiercely in Geralt's chest, and he couldn't stand it. He pulled Jaskier close and he came with no resistance, letting Geralt press their foreheads together, though his face was still pinched with worry.

"You deserve to feel good," Geralt told him again, and kissed him. Jaskier made a choked-off noise that might have been a protest or simple shock, and kissed him back fiercely.

For several long minutes they kept on like that, Geralt's hands roving over Jaskier's back and neck and sides as they kissed, slow lazy kisses, and deep. When he tried to pull Jaskier down with him to the ground, though, Jaskier stiffened and pulled away.

"Geralt, no," he said, sounding like it pained him to say it. "Not—you won't want this, later. When you feel like yourself again."

"I hate feeling like myself," Geralt said, and the note of petulance in his voice should have embarrassed him, but he didn't seem capable of feeling that emotion right now. "I like feeling this way. This is better."

Jaskier's face crumpled at that, eyes bright and sad. "Oh, darling," he said softly. "I'm sorry. But I'm not going to fuck you while you're high, you'd never forgive me."

"I'll always forgive you," Geralt said simply—because it was true, and how could Jaskier not know that by now? But Jaskier only shook his head, eyes starting to shine wetly, and pulled Geralt back up to sitting.

"Come on," he said, leaning up against him, arms wrapping him up in an embrace that Geralt gladly sank into. "Let's just wait it out, all right? Let's just—you can feel good, and I'll feel good, and we'll feel good together. But not like that. Okay?"

Geralt nodded, tucking Jaskier's head under his chin. "Okay," he agreed, and it was as if his arousal had been a dream he'd had years ago, vanished like smoke. This was good, holding Jaskier like this, and he couldn't imagine wanting more.

Jaskier took a deep breath and settled in against him, and they didn't speak for a long time.

#the witcher #prompt fills #my fic #natthewombat

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hanzajesthanza · 3 years ago

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if you're not rocking with baptism of fire, you're not rocking with me 😤😤

#me and the boys at 3 am running up debts with one another. by the ina. guided by the seven goats #the witcher books #book: baptism of fire #we have another witcherweekly post coming up tomorrow #because i wish to eat a third donut

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infragalaxia · 8 years ago

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CIRI DIED IN MY PLAYTHROUGH. NOOOOOO

#i feel like a monster #this is what i get for playing the game mostly unspoiled #(at least when it comes to main missions)#i'm crying so hard right now #i need to replay the game immediately to make this right #god #ina plays the witcher 3 #the witcher 3 spoilers #ALL JUST BC I DIDN'T WANT HER TO TALK TO THE LODGE ALONE #STUPID ASS PROTECTOR INSTINCT

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apatheticanvas91305 · 5 years ago

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I should probably do a new year post huh...

Okay well I'm bad at words 95% of the time so I hope all my love for you guys comes across anyways

2020 one has been one shit show after another and yet I feel good! 2019 took me by the neck and strangled me almost as much as 2020, but I didn't really have the people I have now to keep me going.

I'm really only still here because of @mmxvink and I never really tell her that (so when/if you see this dude, I'm gonna hide - bc no thank you emotions)

Anywaysssss, tumblr may be a hell site but it's also my comfort zone and I'm gonna tag the people whos's blog makes me smile and laugh (and sometimes cry because some of you guys are far too good at writing angst) and who's interaction (whether we interact a lot or just pass eachother by) makes me believe that it's not so bad after all.

@mischiefandi honestly you're amazing and you're absolutely right that your blog is like a lil safe space for everyone. You and this lot: @duskholland @t-lostinworlds @starrynightdeancas @on-a-bender @bend-me-shape-me are farrrrrrr too good at writing and have no right making me feel the emotions I do when I read your fics.

@totally-not-gadreel I cannot believe that so many people became one person yesterday and now I only have to take one of you. I love your blog, I love gadreel and I love that we're both working on such an amazing project to be a part of

@usercass you have such good taste in reblogs and ik I can always got to this blog when I'm in a need of a good selection of awesome content!

@snowfea bro your blog inspired me to start watching the Witcher and I can never go back thank you for your service

@darling-angel-mine @aniridescentdreamer @too-asexual-to-care @toomanyfandoms008 @deliciouslydeafeningstarlight you guys are just the ones near the top but to everyone of the people I regularly see reblogging from here ily and ik its probably just cuz I reblog allllll the time so my reblogs just clog up your page, but it's nice too see you passing by anywho and I hope you have a good year <3

Also here are some gold standard blogs that don't really know who I am but I highly recommend and hope they have a brilliant year: @kingjackless @rambleoncas @tearsofgrace @chaoticdean @armellin @hail-misha @fandomstuff67

and finally @aka-its-called-whiskey our blogs don't really interact outside dms but you're an amazing friend who keeps me going and I genuinely love you to bits!

HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS

if I missed you it's a my brain problem, just remember that ina few hours or days I'll remember someone and smack myself for not tagging you and I doooo love you, I promise

go support the @superiornatural-rewrite for the new year, it's full of amazing people and content, you won't be sorry!!

#new years #mutuals #i guess i let myself feel for once #hugs

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dancinglassie · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 16/? Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eyck of Denesle & Jaskier | Dandelion Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Vesemir (The Witcher), Eskel (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher), Coën (The Witcher), Eyck of Denesle, Triss Merigold, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Trava, Ina, Adalette, Vda, Etta, Gwenllech Additional Tags: Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier is a river god, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Genius loci (Rivers of London), genii locorum, inspired by Rivers of London, It's Jaskier's turn to meet the family, Protective Witchers, Protective River Gods, Protective Family Series: Part 4 of Rivers Run Summary:

Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit anxious about what his brothers will think of his River god and his Child Surprise, the fugitive Lion Cub of Cintra. He may have completely failed to mention Princess Cirilla to any of his fellow witchers before now, but they'll probably find that easier to accept than the River god thing.

A sequel to Kingdoms Come and Kingdoms Go, Rivers Run and Rivers Flow.

#geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ciri #eskel #immortal jaskier #jaskier is a river god #rivers run #rivers run au #the witcher #witcher #the witcher fanfiction

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ancientstone · 5 years ago

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All I want in this Witcher prequel series is at some point the characters are talking ina tavern, and in the background there's just Jaskier

Like, the camera doesn't focus on him, there's nothing really making him stand out from the crowd, but there he is, just living his best immortal life, deal with it audience

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #jaskier #my post

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

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She-Witch Chapter 2: The Betrothal

Summary: Ina has a promise to keep to Pavvetta. A promise that's thicker than blood that she has to keep, even if that means going against her own mother. Ina also meets a famed witcher, who shows her the joys of being a human before she is shipped away for the Trials.

Word Count: 8,869

Warnings⚠️DIRTY SLUTTY SMUT!! Language, blood, death.

Hello, all my beautiful readers. I'm so sorry for how long this has taken me to post. as you can tell it is very long. Not only did it take a long time to write it, but editing and doing re-writes have added to the time. Also, my father has been going through cancer treatments since July so that's thrown a lot onto my plate that pushed this chapter so far out. I also have not written smut in a very long time so I ended up not liking the first part I wrote and re-wrote most of the smut. I hope you all like it nonetheless. Thank you all for the continued support and love. I absolutely love the Witcher community on tumbler. You all make it fun for me to write. Let me know how you like this new chapter. -Lilith (I'm aware this isn't how the book or show goes exactly, this is just fanfiction and not meant to be anything close to the real books or show)

“Vetta…” snore, “Vetta..!” snore. The door creaked open more as I tiptoed across the hardwood floor, slowly and carefully.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness in her room. My feet stopped once I felt the plush fur rug that was under her bed. My gaze fell over the lump under the countless blankets. She hated sleeping with any light, including fires resulting in many wool blankets and hot coals every night. Weird one she is.

My eyes scanned up to the pile of golden hair, messy and in a sun-like shape all over the pillow. Tiptoeing to the side of her bed I crouched down closer to her ear, only a few inches away.

“Vetta wake up.” I didn’t yell, but I didn’t whisper. Maybe it was how close I was to her. She shot straight up out of bed with a shriek. Her hand was on her heart as she glared daggers at me. Her hair was a huge mess atop her head. I couldn’t hold back the belly laugh that erupted from my mouth. Everything about it was perfect. From her reaction, to how she was sleeping before. To the stupid angry face, she tries to pull off but never works.

“Sorry Vetta. Payback for all the times you would crawl into my bed and cry because of the monster in your closet.” I managed to speak clearly after taking a few deep breaths. She cracked a small smile at me.

“I was scared, Ina. That’s not fair. I had a witcher for a sister and you just expected me to not come to you about my monsters.” My heart warmed. She was right. I never was mad at her for it. I would go and show her nothing was there, silver in my hand, and then tuck her back into bed. We were only two years apart, but I aged abnormally fast physically so my training started when I was five, and Vetta was three.

“Are you scared?” Vetta asked as she sat down on her bed, patting the spot next to me. I shrugged looking at her as I sat down.

“I am and I’m not. There is a part of me that believes I will survive them. Because there has always been a part of me that knows I was born to be a witcher. Every time I’m on a hunt with Druk or recently without him, I’ve never felt more alive. I have a purpose that is cut and dry, simple. No meddling men, no corsets or suitors who want my hand at every dance.”

“It’s where you belong.” She interrupted a smile on her lips. Her fingers gripping mine softly.

“But the other part of you?” Her voice was soft, her eyes looked anywhere but me. Her soft heartbeat quickened, she gulped.

“The other part of me is convinced I will die. A miserable, slow, and painful death where I’ll be begging it’ll end sooner.” Witchers were harsh...but honest.

Her eyes scrunched tightly as tears pooled down her cheeks. I looked away from her, my eyes fixating on the portrait she had of the two of us when we were younger. I looked like I was well in my teens, but, was only 7 years old. Made my mother have to keep me tight and close when around men.

She squeezed my hand again, and I looked at her. She handed me a handkerchief with a small smile. I took it, whipping the tears.

“I wish I was queen now, then I would have all five of those weekly little men killed, and replace them with like-minded individuals like me, or you.” I laughed softly at her wish, my fingers softly detangling some of her bead head.

“Well, one day whether I am dead or alive, you will be queen. So promise me, that you will plant apple trees in more of the villages in my absence from the crown… provide fruit for the poor. We have an obscene amount of apple tree seeds in our pantry…” It was her turn to laugh and wipe her tears.

“Here you are, facing your death. Yet you are thinking about people who barely even know you exist.”

“Not yet, but if I survive the trials and mutations, I will be known. Everyone will know me.”

“What will you be called then sister? I don’t think Ina is very intimidating for a witcher.” I thought about it for a moment. As I thought Pavetta got up and opened the curtains. Making us both hiss, this sun brightly illuminating her once dark room.

“She-Witch has a nice ring to it.” Vetta clapped her hands together with a smile as she sat at her vanity, brushing a comb through he hair.

“That’s perfect. I cannot wait to meet the She-Witch.”

“I hope you get to...”

“Do you remember when mom found the rope you hid in your room to sneak out to train with Druk when you were failing in school?” I laughed, my head falling back.

“Her face! Oh my goodness I don’t think I saw her so mad!” The room was filled with our laughter. We were both crying by the time we calmed down, our chest heaving heavily as we attempted to compose ourselves.

Knock knock.

“Co-come in!!” Pavetta yelled as she whipped her eyes. The door opened and three maids walked in, their arms filled with stuff they would need to prepare her for her betrothal. Druk followed them, my swords in his hands.

“Common kid, we’ve got a monster a couple of towns away, won’t take long.” he tossed the swords to me before walking out of the room. I glanced at Pavetta smiling at her.

“Don’t forget our plan tonight.” She whispered. I nodded my head. Kissing her hand softly before walking to the door.

“I’ll be back in plenty of time Vetta don’t worry.”

III

The cold air nipped my nose as we sat, in a perch high up in a maple tree. The beasts we were tracking were close to us an easy kill, a small pack of drowners. My fingers softly drifted up and down the string of my bow, my back to Druks as he watched the other direction his bow in between his legs.

“Are you going to come with us? To Kaer Morhen?” I whispered.

“I don’t know kid...I have been waiting for my retirement for the last 17 years. I may take your departure as my time to leave and travel to where I plan on staying till I die.” I stayed quiet after he spoke. Part of me was hurt he wouldn’t come with me. He was my mentor, father figure, brother figure. Whatever you wanted to call him, he was important to me.

“You’re not worried I’ll die and you’ll never see me again?” I finally asked.

He was silent for a moment. “I’m not worried you’ll die.”

“You should be…”

Before he could say anything the familiar gurgles filled my ears. Three drowners stumbled up the bank of the river below us, one slipping and sliding down the ice. They slowly made their way over the icy beach and up the bank. Towards the dead dear, we had hung to attract them. Druk moved slowly behind me as I moved into a crouching position. An arrow loaded into my bow as I pulled the string back to my ear. The feathers of the arrow brushed my cheek as I peered down, aligning my arrow’s head along the forehead of the drowner on the ground by the bank.

Swish

The arrow penetrated the drowners head, a sweet slicing of skin piercing my ears. Blood flowing from the impact point down the dull creature’s dead face. It fell in a pile on the edge of the bank. Druks arrow had shot and killed one of the ones that were busy munching on the deer, leaving only one more. Both arrows flew out of our bows, striking the drowner in the head simultaneously.

“Nice shooting kid. Common let’s go, we’ve got to get ready for the party.” Druk scaled the tree, jumping to the ground with a soft thud. I swiftly followed him, joining in the scavenging of the monsters for the alchemy ingredients they possessed.

“Do you think my mum will make me wear a dress?” I asked as I handed Druk the sack full of drowner brains and scales. He tucked them away in his pack before laughing loudly.

“Of course she is. Hell, she sent me a new suit to wear for the event. You will be downed in the best linens and fabrics, jews atop your hear, and of course, your favorite a soul-crushing corset.” I gaged as he spoke, sticking my tongue out in disgust.

“We can both suffer together kid.” He shoved my shoulder, pushing me in the direction of the castle with a laugh.

“Gods Ina! There you both are! Hurry now to your rooms we have no time to waist guest will be arriving soon.” As soon as we stepped foot into the grand room, my mother wasted no time in hurrying Druk and me to the stairs. She wouldn’t even let me tell her of the monsters we fought. Three maids were by my side as I walked to my room.

Once inside the three women waisted zero time. One of them started boiling water for a bath. Another getting my dress; undergarments, and jewels ready, laying them on my bed. The third woman was undressing me, pulling twigs from my hair. Pulling my hair from its multi-braid as my long hair fell across my shoulders. My pants were yanked to my ankles.

“Man you ladies waste no time huh.” I joked, but none of them laughed with me. Probably frustrated I made them all wait for me.

“Common in the bath.” The second woman, who had short blond hair and boney hands. She was much older than the other two.

I walked to the basin, stepping into the hot water. The smell of rose and honey filled my nose as the milky soap in the woman’s hands ran all over my arms and shoulders as she scrubbed me. It had been a while since I last bathed.

“What are your names?” I asked, not enjoying the empty silence.

“I’m Siphire.” the woman who was washing my body said. I glanced at her, she gave me a gentle smile.

“I’m Affenra.” The woman who was getting my dress and accessories together said. She was my age, but dark long hair down to the floor, even in a braid.

“Your hair is amazing,” I said. She smiled at me.

“Thank you, ma’am. Rosehip oil after washes helps wonders.” I smiled at her, turning my attention to the last woman who was sitting by the door, waiting till she was asked for help. She smiled softly at me.

“Favonti ma’am.”

“I love your names, very beautiful. Thank you for your help tonight. If it weren’t for you ladies I would’ve gone to the betrothal covered in guts and dirt.” The ladies laughed softly, Siphire began dumping cups of water on my head, before lathering my long locks in soap. She raked a comb through my sudsy hair making me hiss in pain.

After a few hours, my body was adorned in a tight emerald green gown. The corset around my waist was sinched so tight it felt as though my lungs and heart were pressed together. The three women were doing last-minute touches to my hair. Affenra had braided my hair intricately, pins, jewels, and flowers were strung throughout. The felt boddess of my dress had caught many of my stray hairs that Saphire was taking the time to carefully pluck off.

“Ina, are you ready? Your mother is getting mighty impatient with me, and I only have so many patients for you royals.” Druk huffed from the other side of the door. I laughed softly, whipping my hands down my dress before walking to the door, I opened it.

“My my. She even got you to bathe? I don’t know if I’ve ever smelt you so clean.” His pungent smell was something I had grown accustomed to, so the bitter-sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla was a new welcome. Druk smiled a hint of annoyance on his lips, his hand running through his black hair.

He was wearing a blue suit, the jacket all too tight. He could barely lift his arm above his head. The silver cat pendant hung from his neck and onto the white tunic below his coat. He embodied the disgusting stereotype witchers held, dirty and smelly beyond belief. I think it was a challenge to himself, see how long he could go without bathing.

“She didn’t give me much of a choice. Common let’s go your sister is waiting.” I nodded my head, looping my arm through his as we walked down the hallway. I knew Vetta was probably freaking out without me down there.

“Are you going to tell me why your lack of presence is causing her to panic so?” Druk asked as we slowly walked down the stairs.

“She has a man coming later. Claiming the law of surprise so she can marry him. I must protect her and him from my mother’s wrath.” My voice was below a whisper. He simply nodded his head, his attention on the doors in front of us, leading to the grand hall where we could both hear people laughing and drinking.

“And you plan on doing so?” He asked as we waited for the MC to announce our entrances.

“Of course, she’s my sister.”

“Will you need help?”

“Maybe, you’ll know if I do.” He nodded.

“There’s another witcher here already.”

“Really? Who?” before he could answer the ouncers voice boomed throughout the room beyond the doors.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Princess Ina of Cintra.” The doors opened, everyone inside was staring at Druk and me as we walked down the carpet. My mother and sister waiting at the table at the front of the room.

“Is that him?” I asked softly as we walked slowly through the mass of people.

A man with silver-white hair, yellow honey-like eyes, and a face more glorious than anyone I had ever seen was sat next to my mother, both speaking lowly.

“Yes,” Druk responded.

“Do you know him?”

“Yes.”

“Will you introduce me?” I heard Druk laugh.

“The princess has a crush.” I felt the blood rush to my ears.

“Don’t be stupid. Just introduce me.”

The man’s attention turned from the conversation he was having with my mother to me. We were at the edge of the table now. My mother smiled at me, eyeing me up and down.

“Look at how beautiful you are, my sweet girl.” she beamed, happy I obliged to her rules without complaint.

“Mother,” I said, bowing my head softly. Druk bowed his head to my mother and sister, before letting go of my arm. His attention to the man who was now standing.

“Druk! To think we thought you were long dead.” His voice was sultry and so beyond sexy. I felt my heart flutter as he spoke.

“Geralt of fucking Rivia. And I thought all the wolves died in the fall of Kaer Morhen.” The two witchers shook hands over the table, exchanging smiles. I coughed softly, cleaning my throat, my attention on Druk.

“Right right. Geralt, this is Princess Ina of Cintra. She has been my ward for the last 17 years.” Geralt’s eyes glossed over my body and then back up to meet my eyes. He wordlessly walked around the table till he was in front of me.

“Geralt of Rivia? What an honor. I’ve heard many stories of your grand successes.” I nodded my head softly at him, batting my eyelashes. His lips curled up into a devilish smile.

He softly took my hand in his. His hands were much large than mine and covered in callouses. He gently lifted my hand up, connecting his soft pink lips to the back of my hand.

“What is a beautiful princess like yourself being a ward of a witcher like Druk.” the blood rushed through my body to my cheeks. I darted my eyes away from his, his honey pools for eyes becoming too much for me. My ovaries screamed at me from within, begging me to have him touch me some more.

“I have abnormal-”

“She is very strong. Always has been. Needed extensive training to help.” my mother interrupted. I glanced at her, sending her a glair.

“Right, strength,” Druk said with a snort.

“I need a drink. Please excuse me.” Druk left with a soft bow of his head, walking to the table where the ale was being served. Served by Xina the woman he had fancied for many years.

“Care to sit? I’d love to pick your brain if you wouldn’t mind.” I gestured to the seats next to my mother that was open. Geralt smiled nodding his head extending his arm out to me.

We sat, myself next to my mother who was trying to talk to Pavetta. Geralt is next to me.

“What would you like to know?” He asked as he lifted a tankard full of ale to his plump pink lips.

“You are from Kaer Morhen. That’s where you did your training. What is the Keep like?” a small sparkle ran through his yellow irises.

“I did. It was much more beautiful when it was at its optimal function.” I quirked an eyebrow at him laughing softly.

“Optimal function? What do you mean?”

“A witchers keep, whether you are a cat or a griffin, or a wolf you can you go back home for the winter, bring the coin to help rebuild, provide food, and more importantly reunite with your kin. Giving us freaks a safe haven away from the eyes and blades of men. Unfortunately for most witchers that are left, most keeps like Kaer Morhen have been destroyed, beyond the point of repair.” An aching pain formed in my heart as he spoke, his voice grew more sorrowful the more he spoke of the witchers and their constant lives of misfortune.

“Not long after my mutations Kaer Morhen was attacked. The witchers who started training me all died, every single one but Vesemir. We returned to the keep months later and the bloodshed was…”

“Horrendous?” I asked sympathetically. He only nodded his head, his eyes breaking away from mine darting around the room.

“So tell me princess-” he took a long gulp of his ale, dribbles of the liquid pouring down his chin onto his green tunic. “Why are you actually training with a witcher. Super strength is not enough to keep a witcher, a cat nonetheless under one roof for 17 years.”

My lips pulled into a smirk, a whine glass brought to my lips as I sipped on the bitter juice. My eyes glanced beside me to my mother who was of course listening in.

“I uh, I’ll be going through the Trials of the Grasses soon. My fate was decided long ago. My mother hopes that the training and skills I have from Druk will aid me in my survival…” the witchers eyes were huge, nearly bulging out of his head. He glanced behind me to who I’m presuming was my mother.

“You’re the one Vesemir is taking to Kaer Morhen?” his voice was a low whisper.

“Yes. by the end of the week I will be on the 4-day journey to the famed Keep where I will more than likely meet my gruesome demise.” I laughed softly, more because it was the only way I could keep myself from breaking down, and losing any form of composure that I had been trained to have for so many years. I felt my mother’s hand on my arm, she softly squeezed it twice reassuringly.

“You will be fine Ina, you are the daughter of the Lioness. Mutations or not, we do not fall easily.” her denial of my death was getting stronger as the time grew closer.

“I hate to break it to you your majesty-” I reached my hand to Geralt’s arm, making him stop talking. He looked at me, eyes searching my face before they fell into a gaze with my own.

“Please don’t…” I whispered lowly enough for only him to hear. “Let her believe I’ll survive...it’ll make my departure easier on her and my sister.” his hand softly covered my own, giving it a soft squeeze. His silent way of letting me know he understood.

“Thank you, Geralt. For speaking with me, it’s a great honor to be in the company of such a renowned witcher.” his teeth shined brightly, his lips curling into yet another handsome smile. One that made my heart skip a beat.

You’re going to die soon. Try and bed the witcher. My thoughts were running rampage as we sat in silence.

“What is your name?” My mother asked the scrawny man who was standing in front of us. His hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of his sword. The large man next to him brooding and eyeing him.

“L-lord N-Norton of Redania ma’am.” the small man looked as though he was about to piss himself. His brown shaggy hair was slicked with sweat. The many other men in the room did not let up at the snicking and berating even as he stood before the queen.

“My god boy. Grow a pair and spit out why you think you deserve a chance for my daughter’s hand.”

“Redania is a ported city ma’am. We have fleets, fishing nets, many assets that will only aid in Cinta’s resilience in the world.” I snorted, loud enough for everyone in the room to look at me.

“I’m sorry, Norton is it? My sister is going to be the queen of Cintra one day. She needs a man who won’t piss himself at the sight of a strong woman.” the laugh that erupted from my mother filled the room, making the man in front of us cower down. His head hung low as he walked out the door like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“Will anyone be asking for your hand tonight, my lady?” Geralt’s fingers hooked under the side of my chair, effortlessly he pulled the chair across the floor closer to his own.

“I’m being shipped off to my death in a few days witcher. No man is looking for my hand in marriage.” I glanced at him, nibbling on my lip as we stared at each other. His eyes engulfed mine again, the voices of the men in front of me being lost in my thoughts.

My unholy, sinful, slutty thoughts. My thoughts of the witcher taking me then and there on the table. His large meaty hands around my neck. His large, muscle-clad body smushed to mine as our naked bodies pressed together.

“My lady?” Geralt’s hand gently squeezed my knee, bringing me back to reality. Laughing, flustered I gently squeezed his hand in response.

“Sorry, what did you say? I wasn’t all here,” I said with a soft smile. His bottom lip drew up between his teeth, his eyes slowly going down to my exposed chest briefly before they met my eyes again. If he were any other man I would’ve sliced his head from his shoulders. But he wasn’t any ordinary man. I would let his eyes feast on me all day. Hell, he could feast on me all day if he wanted.

“I said, I don’t mean marriage. Do you have any man waiting for you?” I shook my head again.

“No.”

He leaned in closer to me, his huge hand softly going from my knee to my thigh giving it a soft squeeze. His lips were so close to my ear I could feel his hot breath on my neck. “How a woman of your beauty goes to bed alone every night will forever confuse me, my lady.” I could’ve jumped him, taken him right on the floor. Have him breed me in front of every man in the room. Make it known Id only let a witcher touch me.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, still as close as he was before. I turned my head to him, our faces centimeters apart as we looked into each other’s eyes.

“No, not at all.” Biting my lip softly, my eyes flickering from his lips back up to his eyes. His hand still remanded in my thigh.

My attention was drawn from him against my will as the sound of swords clashing and fighting from beyond the doors filled the room. My eyes met my sister who was already staring at me. She nodded her head to me, confirming my suspicions of it being Duny. My eyes raced around the room till they fell on the only other pair of golden orbs. Druk was sitting near the entrance, Xina at his side. We held eye contact for a few moments, speaking without words. He nodded his head, excusing himself before leaving the room.

Moments after Druk left, the doors burst open a man stumbling in clumsily, falling to his knees. His armor clanked and crashed as he fell onto the hard floor. He quickly stood up, running into the middle of the room. His face was covered by a knight’s helmet but I knew it was him, his smell filling my nose. My hands gripped onto the edge of my chair, my eyes darting around the room. More of my mother’s knights filing in.

“Your majesty!! I do not wish any harm, and I’m sorry for my late intrusion.” He let go of his sword letting it fall to the ground in front of him.

“But I have come to claim what is mine.” My throat ran dry. My heartbeat quicking. My senses began to heighten, ears pricking at any sound of movement from anyone in the room.

“I am Lord Urcheon of Erlenwald, and I have come to claim Pavetta’s hand in marriage.” I heard my mother’s sharp intake of air. Her hands tightened against her chair, her chest heaving up and down.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, her voice cold.

“Yor late husband, King Roegner I save his life and in return, he granted me the law of surprise, your daughter.” It was so quiet, you could hear the mise scattering across the room. Heavy breathing, but nothing else.

“You come into my castle, into my halls to make demands about my daughter and yet you do not have the courage to show your face?” Mother’s words were lethal as she spoke. She rose to her feet, eyes glancing between my sister and me.

“I am bound with the oath of my knighthood your majesty. I can not take it off till the bell strikes midnight.”

Eist a Skelligen army man who was accompanying the son of his king to the betrothal stood up, a glair on his face as he approached Duny.

“Knight oath or not, you shall not be a coward.” Duny’s helmet flew to the ground with a loud clatter. The room was filled with horrific gasps and squeals as his beastly form was reviled. His porcupine-like features struck horror into my mother’s face.

“Ina, kill the beast.” Her voice was hurried and harsh as she spoke, she didn’t turn her attention from Duny.

“No mother.”

“What??” She finally looked at me fully, her eyes looked as though I had betrayed her. I stood to face her, my hands on her arms.

“Mother he is cursed, he is no monster.”

“Your daughter speaks the truth Queen Calanthe. I was cursed as a boy. I am not a monster.” Duny’s words were full of fear as he spoke, trying to not let his voice waver.

“Witcher,” I looked at Geralt, who was looking beyond displeased to be brought into this mess.

“Kill it. If my daughter won’t, you must. Kill it now!!”

“She is right your majesty, I cannot kill him. He's been cursed not a monster, he needs a cure not to be killed.” Geralt didn’t budge from his seat as he spoke, his tone completely calm. A stark contrast to the rest of the room.

I heard one of the small doors to my left open, my eyes soon met those of Druk, he had our silver in his hands behind his back.

“Fine. Someone kill the beast!!” The knight that stood guard at the edge of the table lifted his ax in his hand, taking a few steps towards Duny.

My legs pressed back against the chair behind me as I moved quickly from my space next to my mother. I sprinted around the table, connecting my eyes with Druk. Eyeing my sword in his hand, my legs still running towards Duny. Everything moved slow. Druks arm extended as he threw my sword. It gleamed as it glided through the air. My head snapped to the left as I watched the knight make his way closer to Duny, his ax rasing above his head. I felt the cold familiar leather that was wrapped around the hilt of my sword in my palm, my fingers tight around it as I ran to Duny.

My sister’s scream pierced my ears as the ax started to fall. Just as the ax came down past the knight’s shoulders towards Duny’s head. My silver connected with the haft of the ax, a stinging ring being sent through the room. Duny caught the ax and jumped to his feet. His back to mine as we looked around us, my mother knights beginning to circle us. My eyes darted to my mother and my sister. My sister was on her feet, her hands covering her mouth. My mother’s face nearly broke me. She had never looked at me with such betrayal.

“Mother stop this!! He is not a monster!” I screamed at her.

“KILL HIM!!!”

The knights around us came at us, one by one. My blade slashed through the air, my feet spinning and twirling against the marble. The sound of swords clashing and armor falling filled my ears. My chest heaved heavily, my blade clashing again and again against the very men who I had trained with for many years.

I spun quickly my blade clashing violently against another. My eyes met with those of my mother. Her face was bright red, eyes full of tears, her body trembling in anger. Our blades held together as we stared at one another.

“Mother please-”

“Silence. I will not hear your tongues. It is clear to me the monster has charmed you, bedded you, and made you forget your place in this family.” My eyes darted behind her as I glared at Pavetta.

“Your majesty,” Eist said, stepping between the two of us. The fighting had stopped, no one was swinging their blades anymore. Geralt and Druk were standing to my side, both guarding Duny with me.

“If the boy speaks the truth. We cannot go against destiny.” my sword lowered to my side. My hands trembled as I stared at my mother.

“Mother,” Pavatta finally spoke, moving from her place to stand next to Duny behind me. “If you are going to be angry with anyone, it should be me. I begged Ina to help me, to help me show you that he isn’t a monster. To protect him. She is only doing what she has done out of loyalty to me. No other.” her hand softly held onto my arm, sliding down to my sword before she made me drop it to the ground.

“Destiny has spoken mother. My heart, my life belongs to Duny.”

“It is not our place to medal with destiny your majesty. We cannot stop it.” Eist said again, his hand on her arm, lowering her sword.

“You have two witchers, and your own daughters telling you he is not a monster.” Her tightened jaw slackened slightly as she looked between my sister and me.

“Destiny? Does destiny’s law grip all the men in the room by the testicles?” her voice boomed throughout the room. Pavetta moved from behind me and stood in front of my mother, her hands on her arms.

“Mum this is perfect. You don’t have to choose any of these boys who think they can handle being king. You don’t have to fight destiny. Just please, look into my eyes and trust me.” Mum’s facial features softened, her hand letting go of her blade. It fell to the floor with a clang. Her hands went to my sister’s cheeks as she looked deep into her eyes. she let out a shaking breath, looking back at Duny then at me.

“I made a promise to Vetta when we were children, mother. I promised her I would always be there to protect her, to fight for her. That’s all I was doing…” She nodded, her arm extending to me, grasping my arm as she pulled me into her, hugging me tightly.

“I’m sorry...for not trusting you.” She pulled away from me, kissing my head before looking at Duny. she swallowed thickly before turning to Eist.

“There will be two unions here tonight. My daughter Pavetta and

Lord Urcheon of Erlenwald will be married. And I have excepted lord Eist’s proposal.” Pavetta turned back to Duny, her hands on his face as she kissed him.

Once their lips disconnected Duny hunched over, screaming in agony. Pavetta's hands went to his sides as she whispered to him, trying to figure out what was wrong. She looked at me. Crouching next to him my hands held onto his sides as he writhed in pain, screaming, I shoved him down onto his back trying to get him to listen to Pavetta and me.

“Gods…” I mumbled as I looked down at Duny, his face was like a man’s. No sign of monster anywhere. Even his scent had changed back to human.

“It’s not midnight…” He mumbled, looking up at Pavetta. she smiled brightly to him, kissing him sweetly before they looked up, between Geralt and I.

"Please, Ina and Geralt of Rivia. I owe you both my life, name your price what you want is yours." I laughed softly standing back to my feet shaking my head.

"My sister already knows what I want. you'll help her with it." Vetta smiled softly, nodding at me.

"And you Geralt of Rivia? Please, do not let me start my new life in the debt of someone else." Geralt huffed for a moment before smirking.

"Fine, I'll claim the law of surprise." He raised his cup before walking away.

as he walked outside away from the group, Vetta grabbed at her stomach, kneeling forward as she vomited onto the floor.

“Vetta what’s wrong??” I asked, brushing some of her hair away from her face. Her hand dropped down to her stomach, Dunys resting next to it.

“Hope you’re ready to be an aunt…”

VII

The twisted turn of events of the night left most of us in shock. My mother had to have a very long conversation with Vetta about her pregnancy and why hiding it for so long wasn’t okay. Geralt and I were sitting outside the castle on one of the many balconies, Druk with us. The night was getting later, my buzz getting more intense as we played a drinking game.

“Take a swig.” Druk lifted his tankard to his mouth, gesturing to Jaskier the bard. The bard that traveled with Geralt and the bard who didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself despite the many noblemen who were accompanying the woman he was swooning over. The drinking game was where we have to take a drink any time Jaskier got threatened. It was an easy way for Geralt to keep an eye on him, and also cure our growing boredom.

“You know what gentlemen, I’m gonna head in for the night,” I said standing from my seat on the bench next to Geralt. My hands stretched towards the sky, my spine cracking. Geralt stood from his seat his hand on my lower back.

“May I escort you up? Make sure you make it okay?” the pits in my stomach rumbled as he touched me, my body yearning for him.

“Thank you, Geralt. And they say chivalry is dead.” My hand looped through his arm, holding onto his bicep. He took the lead, walking through the drunken people inside, weaving me through them with ease.

VIII

We were silent while we walked through the quiet corridor toward my room. My hand was still on his huge bicep, nails softly digging into it. Bed the Witcher, you’ll be dead soon. Stopping outside my door, my body turned to face him completely. He was much taller than me, my head only came to his pectorals. Now or never. Do it.

My fingers gently caressed the silver wolf medallion that rested on his chest. “Is it true they vibrate when monsters are near?” he nodded, humming softly. One of his hands went to my arm brushing down to my wrist that sat atop his chest.

“If there is one thing Druk has taught me, its witchers don’t hesitate.” My eyes traveled up his chest, scanning his neck the small scars that littered it, up to his face and to his eyes. His fingers grasped mine, his other hand softly wrapping around my waist. A gentle tug and I was pressed flush against him. I could feel his heart beating against me.

“I will be dead soon, more than likely be dead. There is one thing I have yet to do, that I’d like to experience once before then…” His fingers had moved from my hand to my neck. The rough pads of his fingers smoothed over my skin. His face was blank, but his eyes were cloudy, pupils more dilated than before.

“What is that, princess?” His voice had dropped a few octaves, sending deep vibrations down my spine and into my core. I could feel the arousal seeping into my undergarments.

Gulping down the collected salvia in my mouth, “are the rumors about witchers being fierce passionate lovers true?” His finger’s delicate dance along my jaw and neck stopped, chest rising and falling heavily against mine. The palm of his hand pressed against my jugular, his fingers pressing deliciously into my soft skin.

His grip on my neck was soft, not obstructing my airway but enough for him to force my head to the side. He dropped his head, his lips hovering by my ear. His soft lips brushed against the shell of my ear making me whimper. The hand on my back drew me impossibly closer to him, before lowering gripping my buttocks roughly.

“Making those sounds will only make me fuck you harder baby.” Had he not had such a good hold of me, my legs would have given out.

“Do it.” the door to my room opened. His hands left my body for a mere second before I was tossed effortlessly over his shoulder.

My giggles filled the empty room. He kicked the door shut with his foot. He flopped me over his shoulder onto my bed. His large hands gripped the green fabric of my dress on my legs. He softly pushed the fabric up my body exposing my bare legs to him. His eyes devoured them hungrily as he slowly began to trace those meaty hands up and down my thighs. In one swift movement, the outermost layer of my dress was discarded onto the floor. Leaving me in my slip and corset. Yellow eyes racked over my body like I was his next pray. He slowly began to unbutton his own tunic.

“Have you ever done anything like this before princess?” I shook my head no. His lips pressed soft wet kisses into my collar bone and neck. Both his hands by my head to hold his weight off me, his legs spread mine apart draping them around his hips. I heard him inhale deeply.

“I can smell how wet you are already baby.” I couldn’t trust my voice enough to even try and speak. I just wanted him to ravish me for as long as he needed. Whatever he wanted he could do to me.

“You need to use your words, princess...I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what you want.” I huffed in frustration. My hands tangled in his white hair as he contented to kiss and suck on my exposed neck and shoulders. His fingers delicately traced up and down my bare thighs, slowly sliding up under my slip just enough for him to hold my arse cheeks in his hands.

“I want you to fuck me,” I mumbled out, arching my back softly up into him, the mettle from my corset brushing against the partly exposed hairy chest beneath his tunic. He laughed huskily above me, pulling away look me in the eyes. His pupils had nearly taken over his yellow eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart I’ve gathered that. I need more to go on.” as he talked his fingers delicately unlaced the tight corset, discarding it to the floor. His head dropped his soft lips sent sparks over my skin as they pressed into the valley of my breasts.

“I want you to put your rock-hard cock inside me, witcher. Is that better?” he laughed evil into my skin, his hand softly tugging down my slip, freeing my right breast. His tongue circled the erect sensitive bud. His saliva glistened on his tongue, transferring to my soft skin. My mouth fell agape, pathetic whimpers escaping as I watched him intently. His yellow, pupil blow eyes stared back at me. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“Mmmmm patients princess, I’ll get there when I get there.” The piercing sound of tearing fabric filled my ears. His mouth never left my breast, which was beginning to be covered in purple bruises.

I was completely naked below him. He sat back, my legs spread on either side of his hips, his meaty hands massaging my calves as his eyes devoured up my body. They moved agonizingly slowly, down my chest, stomach, legs. Then back up, till they landed on my wet, throbbing, pussy. The grip on my calves tighten as he spread my legs wider.

“You've got an unfair amount of clothes on witcher.” I mauled with a deep exhale. My hand came down slowly to my wet folds, sliding fingers between them and to my sensitive clit. My legs trembled against him as I touched myself. “No more touching until you are as bare as the day you were born.”

A sinister smirk appeared on his lips, his fingers letting go of my calves. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to the floor behind him. His chest was chiseled by the gods. My fingers circled my clit a little harder, adding a bit of pressure, making my toes curl. I watched his fingers pull at the strings and buttons on his pants, standing on the floor for a moment letting them drop. Along with his undergarments. Bear as the day he was born. My eyes hungrily scanned his chest, slowly moving down until his unfairly large penis was in my view. I guess 9 inches at least, thick and veiny. My mouth ran dry but it felt like all the moisture drained to my core. He moved towards me, but I couldn't bring my eyes from the swollen, red tip, leaking with pre-cum.

“Tut-tut princess, it's not nice to stair.” His thick gravelly voice filled my ears, his wet tongue grazed the shell. My body shivered, a moan deep from my throat. His teeth nipped down on my earlobe, before he kissed my jaw and neck sloppily, licking and biting anywhere he wanted.

“Cat got your tongue?” His hands ran down my legs, replacing them around his waist. I felt his length lay on top of my folds, sinking into them. His groan into my throat was deep, sending vibrations through my body. He softly rocked his hips back and forth, his veins rubbed and rutted against my clit. The pleasure filled my body, started in my womb, and traveled like fire throughout my body as if it was electricity. Maybe it was because I had never ventured further than my own hand, or if it was the man above me.

His lips moved up my neck to my jaw, one of his hands leaving my leg cupped my jaw making me turn my head, his yellow lustful eyes peered into mine. He had a devilish smirk on his face as he stopped his soft hip thrust, the lack of friction making me whine, my hands on his arms moving to his shoulders and neck.

“Why'd you stop?” I whimpered. He chuckled, licking his lips. His hand on my jaw moved down, lightly squeezing my throat. His lips were so close to mine I could feel his soft short breaths.

“Because I was afraid if I didn't you'd never say another word.” I felt my cheeks burn. My hands softly ran through his hair. “I like to hear your voice, Ina, work on using your words.”

“Would you mind if I kissed you, Geralt?” He didn't respond, he just pressed his sweet soft lips to mine. The kiss took my breath away. Our lips danced together, my hands running through his hair. His length still laid between my wet folds. My hips tilted up as he softly started to thrust his hips back and forth, the warm friction of our sexes sliding against each other filled my body again. The pleasure is only aided by his lips.

His tongue expertly explored my mouth, my whimpers and moans filling his mouth, his hands gripped my hips roughly as his grinding and thrusting slowed to a stop, his lips disconnecting.

“Nooo, please don't stop Geralt.” A melodic laugh filled my ears, his lips traveling down my chest and stomach. “Don't worry princess, this-” He lifted my legs over his shoulders, my feet resting on his upper back. His warm breath fanned my slicked core. “-will feel much better.”

The wet warm feeling of his tongue licking a long agonizing strip from the bottom of my wet folds, up to my sensitive clit. My eyes bulged out of my head, my back arching, hips shoving into his mouth. A low groan left my parted lips. He stopped at my clit, his tongue skillfully lapping circles on the sensitive bud. “Oh my godsss!!” my head fell back onto the bed moans ripped out of my throat. “Don't give me that much credit princess.” His warm wet tongue slid down my folds, dipping down into my entrance. The feeling was enough to push me over the edge I didn't even know I was on. A deep pitted burst of euphoria exploded inside my stomach engulfing my body. My nails dug deep into his shoulders, dragging down his arms. My thighs squeezed tightly around his head, the juices squirting out of me on his face. His hands gripped my hips pulling me impossibly closer to him, his tongue devouring me as I came.

I laid below him, breathless, legs shaking.

His soft lips left my aching clit, kissing my belly as he softly stroked my thighs. I watched him through hooded eyes, my legs trembling, skin covered in goosebumps as he kissed my breasts. “Don't get too comfortable, beautiful. I'm not done with you yet.” His large arms wrapped around my waist, spinning us and sitting me between his legs. My legs spread to the sides of his. I felt his length press firmly against my bum and back. His lips pressed softly to my neck.

His fingers softly slicked up and down my folds. My head fell back against his shoulder. His free hand softly took my hand, gently dropping it down to my core. “Show me how you touch yourself.” My teeth took my bottom lip. A gentle moan filled my ear as I slowly slicked my fingers in my lips, before slipping them inside me. “Good girl.” His warm breath fanned my neck, his hands stroking my thighs and massaging my breasts.

Wet kisses covered my neck and shoulder, one of his hands came to mine, gently pulling it out of me. He brought my fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. “You, my dear, taste divine.” he let my hand fall back to my side, his lips capturing my own again. Two of his skilled fingers pushed inside me, as his tongue entered my mouth.

I moaned into his mouth, our tongues tangling together. My fingers tangled and tugged on his hair, his fingers curling and twisting deliciously inside me. he softly pulled them from me, making me groan the wetness dripping down my thighs. His hands softly pushed me onto my back, my legs placed gently on his shoulders. Both hands gripped my calves, lips on my ankles. His hard cock pulsed in his hand. The tip of his cock slowly pushed into my tight entrance. He sheathed a few inches of himself inside me with a deep gravelly moan that nearly shook the walls. The grip of his hands on my calves was so tight I’d surely have bruises when we were done. The sinful, lude mixture of pleasure and pain filled my body as he took me, all to himself. He didn't move once he had a couple of inches inside me. He slowly leaned down, moving my legs to his waist. Gentle lips pressed to mine. The kiss was slow and soft as he caressed my body head to toe. Every dip, bump, imperfection he touched. Our tongues filled each other’s mouths, with soft whimpers and moans as he slowly started thrusting his hips. His cock pushed in and out of me slowly pushing in more with every thrust, slicking his way inside me.

“Geralt!” I gasped, my head falling back, disconnecting our lips as he jutted his hips forward. Cock slipped all the way inside me, filling me achingly to the brim. His lips sucked and bit on my neck as he groaned. He wasted little time before quickening his speed, his hips jutting back and forth over and over. The sound of his balls slapping my ass, my wet pussy slopping around him filled my ears.

The tip of his cock brushed a spot deep inside me. The movement sent electricity through my body again. He hit it every single time he thrust his hips back into me. He was incredibly experienced. I felt his lips near my ear as he grunted, his thrusts speed up. My toes curled as I squealed, my nails raking down his back.

“Cum princess.” He husked in my ear. His tongue slithering around the shell, his fingers gripped my hips, arching them, his cock slipping impossibly deeper inside me. I could feel every vein in his cock as my walls contracted around him.

My eyes rolled back in my head as he spoke, my screams catching in my throat. My back arched off the bed my breasts pressing against his hard chest. The bubble in my stomach burst as I came around his cock, squirting as a loud scream tore out of my throat. I felt his hips falter slightly as I rocked my hips against his, riding out my orgasm.

“Fucking hell!” His teeth dug into my neck as he burst inside me, his warm seed filling my womb and leaking out of me and down my thighs onto the bed. Mixing with my own cum.

He remained inside me and above me, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His body was covered in a coat of sweat. Some from his brow dripping down onto the pillow. His hands ran up and down my hips and sides. I could hear his erratic heartbeat as he kissed up and down my neck, soothing the bite marks.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you…” he mumbled into my breasts as he peppered them with soft wet kisses. I laughed softly, my fingers dragging down his shoulders and arms, pressing my own lips to his shoulder.

“No, not at all.” his eyes met mine as he sat back, hands on my legs as he slowly withdrew himself from with a plop. He groaned softly as his eyes looked between my legs.

“When you survive your trials,” his lips met mine in a hot kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth before he pulled back slightly, our noses brushing. “Find me again.” I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks and ears. I looked away from him bashfully. His lips pressed to my cheek softly.

“The probability of me surviving is not high Geralt. You and I both know that.” As I spoke he moved to lay down next to me. His huge arms wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest.

“Yes, I’m aware. Call it a witchers intuition…I know you will be okay.” I smile and kissed his chest softly, my fingers smoothing over his chest.

“If I survive…I will find you again. Your scent won’t be an easy one to forget.” I whispered, my eyes heavy as they shut his heartbeat filling my head lulling me closer and closer to sleep.

“If you don’t find me, I’ll find you…” I felt his lips on my head before sleep consumed me.

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