Hello! Here is my EXTREMELY LATE (Iâm so sorry) @merrywitchermasâ gift fic for @reveniemusâ who has been a g-d SAINT about my tardiness. I hope you like it, and that it was worth the wait <3
âââââââââ
Pairing: Jaskier/Lambert
Rating: SPICY (Explicit)
Warnings: Major Character Injury; blood mention; oral
Summary:
The sound that comes from Jaskierâs throat has both Witchers looking at him sharply. âYou should both go and find him, if he hasnât gotten back to the keep by afternoon. Together would be better - show him you are united in this front. That you still care, despite - despite, well, me.â He frowns on the last word, feeling Geraltâs grip on him tighten. âYou know what I mean.â
They gaze at each other over his head again - heâs beginning to think that thatâs something they are all going to have to talk about - before Eskel nods reluctantly.
this is my @merrywitchermas secret santa gift for @the-butch-of-blaviken ! some fluff with the three of them ⥠iâm so sorry itâs late! but i really really hope you like it ⥠a very happy new year to you! (i say, mid-january. and, for what itâs worth, i hope you had a merry christmas :D)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: WiedĆșmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Characters: Lambert (The Witcher), Aiden (The Witcher)
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Knotting, Panic Attacks, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Summary:
Lambert finds an unexpected heat coming on with no one around to help him through it, that is until a handsome alpha happens across his path. The only problem is that the alpha is a Cat Witcher and everyone knows that Wolves and Cats donât get alongâŠright?
ââ
Written as part of the @merrywitchermas secret santa exchange for the lovely @resident-lambert-hoe! Merry Christmas, dear heart!Â
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Merry Witchermas to @jaskiersvalley !! I hope you enjoy this little tale, which is more Cahir contemplating life than anything else, and a lot of dialogue. Some cheap philosophy as well, hope you donât mind, hehe.Â
I hope you have a lovely month and find nothing but happiness in your future! And the same goes to the mods from @merrywitchermas ! Thank you for having me :)
My @merrywitchermas (pinch-hit) gift for @wanderlust-t!!! I hope you enjoy this little scene of Yennskier bathing together.
1.9k, Yennskier, rated M-- no content warnings
excerpt:
âWitch.â
âBard,â she responded reflexively to the foolish man she felt standing just behind her at the opening to her tent. She turned and seemed to have caught him off-guard. âWhat?â
âOh I just⊠erâŠâ he said quietly, glancing around their campsite in the woods.
Geralt had crafted a small shelterâ small enough that it was very obviously only for Ciri, who was curled up within it under her fur. Geralt himself knelt in meditation beside her, a hand on the pommel of his sword.
Jaskierâs eyes ticked back to Yenâs. âWas wondering if you had some room to spare in your tent. That is, if itâs not boobytrapped.â
The witch rolled her eyes and kept herself from smiling, giving him a small nod.
âActually, depending on the boobytrapâŠâ He followed her inside and gasped. âWell my giddy garters this is a sight! A full-size bed! Ooh is thatâ a goosefeather mattress?â
âIt is,â she said slowly, âAnd it is that size so that I may sprawl upon it. Iâll conjure you a cushion for the floor.â
âMy good lady witchââ
âOh, Iâm a good lady witch now, am I?â
âYou most certainly are not. Youâre a great witch, and a horrible woman.â
âI believe you began this sentiment asking for something?â
âRightâ because only a horrible woman would resign a poor, miserable little bard to sleep upon the cold, hard ground!â
âYouâre late, Eskel,â CoĂ«n purred, folding his arms over his chest and shifting his weight so that his hip jutted out in a teasing manner.
âAnd you are early,â Eskel responded, his voice deep with the growl that was still vibrating in his chest.
------------~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~------------------
Gift exchange complete for the @merrywitchermas event for
@greyduckgreygoose <3 <3
(I completely forgot to add the @'s. Can we tell that I do not use Tumblr much? lol)
@merrywitchermas to @devendrasbeard! i'm so sorry your present took so long but i hope you still enjoy it <3
jaskel, 2k, au: modern setting, coffee shop au (sort of), just pure fluff | also on ao3!
MISSED CONNECTION: BEAN ME UP ON 3RD & MAIN
ISO: the large tattooed man who ordered an extra large salted caramel macchiato extra hot in the middle of July at Bean Me Up on 3rd and Main. You terrify me and I'd love to take you to dinner - large iced coffee with oat milk and two splendas.
"You terrify me? I cannot imagine that line will work,â Priscilla says, an amused smile on her face as she hands Jaskier his phone back. "Like what if he hates that he's tall and large and scares people?"
"Then I hope I find him so I can show him there is nothing to hate because all of those things make me want to get to know him,â he says, locking his phone and tossing it onto the coffee table.
"You're a ridiculous romantic, Pankratz, and I can't wait to see what happens, "she teases, kissing him on the cheek. "Now press play."
In a warehouse across the city, Eskel is lost in the middle of a project, hair tied back as he welds two flower shaped pieces together. He has his headphones in, listening to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack as he recreates the vision his patron had. He doesn't jump, but it's absolutely a near thing when Geralt grabs his shoulder.
"Dad would kill you for welding with both ears in," he teases, taking half a step back as Eskel turns off the machinery.
"What's he gonna do, box my ears?â Eskel jokes, taking out both earbuds and turning to face his brother. "What brings you in? The barn's on fire?" he jokes, head tilted.
"Nah, had something to ask you," he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Ciri saw this online and she thinks it's about you," he explains, handing it to Eskel.
Eskel furrows his brows as his eyes scan the screen. "What is this?" he asks, his tone suspicious.
"A post on one of those missed connections forums," Geralt explains, leaning against the table. "Is it about you, yes or no?"
Eskel shrugs. "Maybe? That's my coffee order at least," he says, giving Geralt his phone back.
"Perfect, Iâll get Ciri to send you the link and you can go out to dinner with this nice man.â Clearly the girl was ready as the minute Geralt puts his phone away, Eskelâs phone is vibrating with a text from the blonde.
"This nice man who admits he's scared of me? Not really the sort of thing a man wants to hear on a first date," Eskel grumbles, and he hates the way he still opens the link Ciri sends him.
"According to Ciri, it's a way to tell someone they intimidate you, but in a sexy way," Geralt explains and Eskel raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Will you at least consider it? For us?"
Eskel sighs and nods. "Only because Ciri has asked me to keep her updated and I don't want to lie to her."
Geralt chuckles and pulls Eskel in for a hug. "Good, I'll let you get back to work. See you Sunday?"
Eskel nods and gives him a wave before turning back to his project.
When he gets home, he. wishes he could say he forgot about the post, but the truth is that he absolutely hasn't. He's read the headline a dozen times, the post attached to it at least half that. He feels a little like he's going crazy, and all because some stranger on the internet had possibly seen him in person and wanted to get to know him.
Eskel opens the post up on his phone, finger hovering over the account that made the post. He still thinks the post couldn't possibly be about him, but Ciri anticipated his arguments and already debunked them all. He can't tell if itâs endearing or horrifying how well she knew his thought process.
Probably horrifying, he decides, as she sends him another meme telling him to stop being a coward, as if she knows he's staring at the link.
LILBLEATERDAD (19:55): uh hi... my family thinks your post is about me...
DANDELIONWISHES (19:55): do you think they're right?
LILBLEATERDAD (19:56): i dunno. i don't think so, but my niece is pretty insistent and hasn't stopped messaging me about it.
DANDELIONWISHES (19:56): that's kind of adorable
DANDELIONWISHES (19:57): how old is she?
LILBLEATERDAD (19:58): 16, but she acts like she's 30 sometimes. her mom's influence i think.
Eskel thinks maybe he's lost it if he's telling a random stranger about Ciri like this. He knows Geralt and Yennefer are very private about her, something about predators on the internet and the like, so he really shouldnât be saying anything about her to a stranger, no matter how comfortable they make Eskel feel.
DANDELIONWISHES (19:58): ha! love that. kids who act older than they are are probably my favorites, but don't tell my kids that
LILBLEATERDAD (20:00): you have kids?
DANDELIONWISHES (20:00): sort of; i teach music and drama part time
DANDELIONWISHES (20:02): what about you?
LILBLEATERDAD (20:03): none, other than lil bleater, but i'm just a food provider for him.
DANDELIONWISHES (20:03): my friend has a cat that i'm sure detests me except when i'm pet sitting
LILBLEATERDAD (20:03): sounds about right
DANDELIONWISHES (20:05): So...
DANDELIONWISHES (20:05): still think you're not the one i'm looking for?
Eskel hates the way his stomach swoops at the idea of being the guy this stranger is looking for, because this yearning and pining and he doesn't do that, not anymore.
DANDELIONWISHES (20:07): no pressure, but i meant it abt wanting to find this guy soâŠ
LILBLEATERDAD (20:09): what if i am?
DANDELIONWISHES (20:10): then i'd love to take you to dinner
DANDELIONWISHES (20:15): is it a dragon on your arm?
There's a moment where Eskel thinks his heart has stopped beating as he looks down at his right arm, the fork tail Geralt had drawn for him curled around his wrist.
DANDELIONWISHES (20:19): this silence is either very good or very bad...
LILBLEATERDAD (20:00): it's a fork tail, actually. which is technically a draconid, not a dragon
Eskel tosses his phone onto the couch before he sees if he got a response.
â
"Jaskier, for fuck's sake, it is two in the fucking morning," Priscilla shouts as she swats at the musician who woke her up with a scream and a heavy thud! as he dropped on top of her.
"I found him!" Jaskier squeals, his eyes bright and the grin across his face wide.
"Holy shit, really?" she asks, sitting up and wiping the sleep out of her eyes.
"I think so. He hasn't replied yet, but he has a dragon â sorry, a draconid on his arm and he's adorable and I want to suck his cock," Jaskier babbles, glancing at his phone repeatedly.
"Already? What happened to dinner first?" she teases, glancing at his screen over his shoulder.
"I mean, yes, that too, but he's adorable, Pris, and I think I'm in love," he says dreamily.
"Do you even know if he's into guys?" she asks and his face drops slowly.
"Fuck," he huffs, pouting as he slumps beside her. "Do you think that's why he's not messaging me back? I probably scared him off, shit," he says, running a hand through his hair.
"Relax, breathe, maybe he fell asleep. A thing we should be doing too," she says, gesturing between the two of them. "Sleep, try again tomorrow," she tells him, and he nods before getting up.
He's half out the door when Priscilla says his name.
"I hope he's into guys," she says, and he smiles.
"Thanks, Pris," he whispers, fighting the urge to check his phone again until he's back in his bed, tucked in under the blankets.
(There's nothing there, but maybe in the morning, he reminds himself.)
Two days later and there's still nothing when Jaskier wakes up. He sent a message after he woke up, hopeful it would get a response, but still nothing nearly 24 hours later. He's about to get pathetic â as in cry into a tub of ice cream while he watches Nora Ephron movies on the couch â when his phone dings with the sound he's been waiting for.
LILBLEATERDAD (09:17): can we do something less intense than dinner?
Jaskier feels his heart soar as he reads the message a few more times before typing a response.
DANDELIONWISHES (09:17): bean me up @ 11 today?
Jaskier can feel himself vibrating in his seat as he waits for a reply, practically leaping when the words see you then shine up at him.
"Oh fuck, what do I wear?" he says aloud, checking the time.
â
"I can't believe you made him wait two days!" Ciri is saying as she rummages through Eskel's closet, mumbling to herself as the man watches her sort through his clothes.
"I didn't know what to say!"'
"Literally anything would've been better than radio silence," she says, tossing a shirt at Eskel, who only just barely catches it. "You're lucky he seems to actually like you."
"He doesn't even know me!" Eskel argues, running a hand over his scars.
"That's why you're getting coffee, "she tells him, pausing at something in his closet for a moment before a grin spreads across her face. "Definitely this."
"Ciri..." Eskel says hesitantly, but she tuts at him, leaving no room for arguments.
Definitely her mother's influence.
â
Jaskier is buzzing in his seat, leg bouncing as he watches the door, iced coffee in hand. His heart leaps into his throat when a tall, broad man comes in, but itâs him. Jaskier gives him a small smile, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. His throat is dry as he takes him in â black leather jacket, white t-shirt, dark denim jeans, and black boots â and tries to remember how to breathe.
"Hi,â the man says, his voice a gravelly sound that sends goosebumps up Jaskier's spine.
"Hi," Jaskier whispers, blinking a few times before he finally stands. "Hi," he says, his voice a little stronger as he holds a hand out. "Lil Bleater Dad?" he asks, hopeful, but he'd worn his most ridiculous Christmas sweater so he'd be easy to identify.
"Eskel," the man answers, and Jaskier decides it's the best name he has ever heard.
"Hi, I'm Jaskier," he says, his smile wide and hopeful. "You're broader than I thought," he tells him, gesturing for Eskel to sit.
"Thanks, I think?" he mumbles, sitting across from Jaskier.
"I ordered your extra hot, extra large salted caramel macchiato," Jaskier says, his grin turning sheepish as Eskel glances down at the mug.
"Thank you, you didn't have to do that," he says with a gentle smile.
"I wanted to. I asked you to meet a virtual stranger, it's the least I could do," Jaskier insists, head tilted as he studies Eskel's face.
"What is it?" the larger man asks, blushing as he tries to stop himself from fidgeting.
"Nothing, it's just... you're so beautiful," Jaskier says, his voice soft and sincere as Eskel blushes.
"Takes one to know one," he says, but then wrinkles his brow as he realizes what he's said. "I'm sorry, that was nonsense," he says with a sheepish grin, hand rubbing at the scars on his face.
Jaskier, however, can't stop smiling. "No, please, don't apologize. That was sweet, and I work with kids, so it isn't even the most nonsensical compliment Iâve ever received," he teases, taking a sip of his iced coffee.
Eskel raises an eyebrow at him slowly, and Jaskier thinks he would move mountains for that look. Or at least give a very enthusiastic blowjob. "Don't tell my brothers that. Lambert will make a game of it," he jokes, a gentle laugh escaping him and Jaskier would definitely do something indecent for that sound.
"Well now I must issue the challenge to this Lambert and see if he can be more creative than groups of children," Jaskier says, willing his traitorous heart to calm down. It was a throwaway comment, not an invitation to take Jaskier home to meet Eskel's family, but the brunet thinks he would very much like it if it was.
"Maybe one day," Eskel says, and Jaskier straightens a little in his seat. "So... your postâŠâ
Jaskier blushes. "I know, my roommate said itâs totally embarrassing, but I didn't know how else to find you without becoming a certified stalker," he explains, fidgeting with a sugar packet in the middle of the table.
"I didn't think it was embarrassing." Eskel tells him, and his voice is so sincere that Jaskier wants to believe him.
"You didn't?"
"No, I thought it was sweet. I just... didn't think it could be about me," he continues, and Jaskier blinks slowly at him.
"Why not?"
"No one has ever thought being scared of me was a good thing." Eskel admits, keeping his eyes from meeting Jaskierâs.
Jaskier hums softly, resisting the urge to reach for Eskel's hands. "I'm scared of you the same way I'm scared of a thunderstorm. It's a beautiful sight and I know it could be good, but it could also do some damage," he tells Eskel, who looks up at him curiously during his speech. "But potential damage aside, I know I'll regret it if I donât dance in the rain.â He tries to put as much sincerity into his voice, not wanting Eskel to have any reasons to doubt what heâs saying.
It works, he thinks, as Eskel looks at him with a smile thatâs got enough hope that it makes Jaskierâs heart soar.
âWill you dance in the rain with me?â he asks, nervous but hopeful, and he thinks that small nod â tiny, hesitant, but a nod â is the best thing heâs ever seen.
Written as a gift for @heartoferebor for the @merrywitchermas event. I hope you enjoy it!
Read on AO3
Rating: M
Words: 2112
Chapters: 1/1
Tags: First Meetings, Meet Ugly, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Whump, Grief, mention of Geralt's canonical death, Blood and Injury, Hopeful Ending
Summary: Eskel is mourning Geralt. Then he saves a dying elf. These are completely separate matters.
1268
Eskel swore as he dodged the explosion of a rotfiend. It had been months since the war ended but necrophages were still in abundance, which meant a lot of contracts. Still, in the privacy of his mind, he complained that he had to be here and not with friends mourning Geralt.
Oh, GeraltâŠ
He cut down a ghoul with more force than necessary. Fucking White Wolf, supposed to live forever, snuffed with a pitchfork to the chest. Eskel couldnât even be with his brother in his last moments. Maybe if he or Lambert had been there, if another witcher had been there⊠Now they didnât even have a body to bury.
The horde of necrophages were dead around him by the time Eskel returned to the present. Now he wanted to leave the stench behind, get his coin and take a bath.
But then he spotted another ghoul a few ways behind him, sniffing at a corpse on the ground. An aard made it stumble back before it could dig its claws in, then its head was flying.
That seemed to be the last one. Eskel sighed as he sheathed his sword, and there was barely a moment between the heartbeat he heard and the fist that grabbed his ankle.
He started out of the grip and almost fell on his butt. The corpse that last ghoul had been sniffing at, it- he, an elf, stared at Eskel with one wide eye, his hand outstretched. Half of his face was a bloody, mutilated mess, with what seemed to be a spearhead stuck in the place of his other eye. How the fuck was he alive?!
His mouth moved but no sound came out besides gasps. Even still, he was reaching out to the witcher with the desperation of a dying man. Eskel wasnât sure if he pleaded to be saved or to be put out of his misery-- he took a step toward him and the elf abruptly went slack, his eye rolling shut.
Eskel quickly kneeled beside him. He was still alive, his heart beating unsteadily, but beating nonetheless. His lips had lost color from all the blood loss, a red pond beneath his head, still seeping from the gruesome wound on his destroyed face. Despite all that, he was alive, for now. Alive, and pleading with possibly his last breath.
Now Eskel faced a choice. A very stupid choice in a very stupid place he would rather not be. The elf was Scoiaâtael, if the tattoo on his neck was any indication. No human healer would take him, and even if Eskel managed to find a commando, he might be blamed and killed. That was if the elf even survived the trip.
His sense of reason -of which he was rather proud, that which made him keep his nose out of conflict and not bed sorceresses, among other things- told him to leave this alone. War endured and people died all the time. It would be a waste of time, and even dangerous to help a dying Scoiaâtael.
But he had failed to help Geralt.
The comparison was stupid, yet Eskel blinked and he was carrying the elf in his arms to somewhere safe. It was the stupidest thing he had ever done.
But he had failed to help Geralt. If he could make a difference in someone elseâs life nowâŠ
Gods damn it, Geralt, he thought, for it was easier to be mad at the dead. Gods fucking damn it.
*
He made camp in a nearby cave and lay his charge on his bedspread, close to the fire.
Once he grabbed the spearhead, the elfâs hand shot up to grab his arm. One wide green eye was again fixed upon his face.
âI have to pull it out.â The grip loosened but didnât let go, and the elf shut his eye tight to brace.
The slick sound of flesh letting go of metal was drowned by a cry. A fresh wave of blood flowed from the wound which Eskel immediately pressed a rag onto. He held him down through the convulses while the elf held onto his arm with a vice like grip.
âIâm sorry I have nothing to give you for pain. My potions would poison you.â The Scoiaâtael finally relaxed into the bedspread, panting, but still holding onto the witcher. Eskel wasnât sure if he was even able to understand him in this state, but he kept talking nonetheless. âIâm no healer, but that hole in your face needs looked at.â
It took a moment, but shaky hands eventually fell-- to let him work or from losing consciousness, it was hard to tell. Eskel lifted the rag.
Gods⊠It was a wonder that he couldnât see the inside of the elfâs head. The spear had to have broken on the skull, and it seemed like the stabbing had taken more than one try. Deep gashes marred the temple and cheek, all the way down to the upper lip. Eskel knew how that one felt, although the mouth wasnât as damaged as his.
âNow youâre as pretty as me,â he muttered. The elf didnât seem to hear him.
*
Eskel had to sew him up. The eye socket was especially tricky, but he had steady hands and patience. Vesemir would sometimes tell him that he had gifted hands; perhaps he didnât have Lambertâs vigor or Geraltâs fame -fuck,Geralt- but he was the best at building, patching, skinning, and Signs.
He focused on his charge and pushed his mourning aside.
The elf shivered and groaned through gritted teeth, but managed to remain still enough. Once Eskel let up, he sagged, panting. His tight fists relaxed and Eskel noticed that heâd been holding onto the spearhead, blood trickling down between his fingers. The scent of iron and salt mixed into an agonized fog in the witcherâs senses.
Once the wound was cleaned and wrapped, Eskel grabbed his waterskin and gently wetted the elfâs lips. If he survived the night, he would live. Most likely. Hopefully.
He had failed to help Geralt.
As he settled down to meditate, Eskel found himself praying to Melitele to let a stranger live.
*
He opened his eyes to the elfâs whimpering.
It was dark outside. The campfire had sizzled to embers, making the cave chilly. The Scoiaâtael was shaking heavily where he lay and letting out incoherent, pained little noises.
Eskel resuscitated the fire with an igni and covered the elf with an extra blanket, hushing in the meanwhile. He wet a cloth with his waterskin and dabbed the elfâs face and neck. âYouâll be alright,â he said quietly. âYouâre Aen Seidhe, arenât you? Youâre strong.â
The elfâs eye suddenly opened and widened upon seeing Eskelâs face, though it wasnât clear what exactly he could be seeing in his feverish haze. His mouth tried to form words. âIs-s⊠engrimâŠâ
Then he shut his eye and shook his head slightly, as if in denial. A tear slid down his temple.
Eskel gently lifted his head and helped him drink from his waterskin. Then he tucked the blankets tighter around him and rubbed him down to warm him up. âSleep,â he said softly.
One unfocused eye gazed at him, as if looking for something. Eskel wasnât sure if he found it-- regardless, the eye rolled shut and the elf relaxed into the bed again, one fist still closed around the bloody spearhead.
*
The fever broke in the morning, and the elf slept for most of the following couple of days. Eskel watched over him, hunted for food and fended off the monsters that got too close to their refuge.
The Scoiaâtael moaned and mumbled through the nights, but survived. Eskel was getting accustomed to the sound of his heartbeat, getting stronger and stronger.
The third morning, he entered the cave with a freshly killed hare and found the elf upright, clutching at his bandaged head. That single eye dragged up at him as he approached.
âCaedâmil,â he greeted as he deliberately slowed his movement, letting the dazed elf follow him. âGlad youâre awake.â
âWho are you?â The elf rasped.
âNameâs Eskel. Iâm a witcher.â He sat down across from him and began to skin the hare, ignoring the elfâs scrutiny. âFound you three days ago,â he continued casually. âRight before you became necrophage meat. Your people werenât around so I took you here. Did what I could.â
The elf touched the bandages gingerly, and sighed. âWho will you be handing me off to, then?â
Eskel halted, then looked up at the Scoiaâtael. âNo one. Iâm not a bounty hunter.â
âMany of your kind are.â
âYou met many of my kind?â
âI met enough.â
Eskel sighed and returned to his skinning. âThink what you will, elf, but Iâll be out of here once I see you walk properly. My contracts in the Pontar Valley are done, and none of them are for Scoiaâtael.â
The elf was quiet for a while. Eskel skewered the hare and put it over the fire.
âWhy did you help, then?â
His eyes met the elfâs. A bunch of thoughts he didnât yet want to face came to the surface like hungry fish in a pond, pulled in by that sole green eye. He had failed to help Geralt. Geralt. Geralt.
âIt felt right, I suppose,â he only said. The eye searched his face, and finally relented, looking down.
âThen Iâm in your debt.â
Eskel waved a hand dismissively. âJust tell your friends not to shoot me from the trees⊠How are you feeling by the way?â
The elf snorted softly. âLike half my face was carved out.â
Eskel grinned, his scars pulling at his mouth. âThat I can relate.â His next thought followed out his mouth before he could stop: âUnlike me though, youâre still pretty. Scars got nothing on you Aen Seidhe.â
The Scoiaâtael went still, and Eskel expected some kind of outrage, but he only looked away, huffing. The wrapped side of his face hid the emotions on the bare side. Eskel, like a reprimanded child, stayed quiet after.
âThank you for your help, vattâghern,â the elf eventually said. âMy name-â
âYou donât need to tell me.â
The elf looked at him in surprise.
âWould probably be safer,â Eskel continued. âFor both of us. I can tell youâre a bigshot, with all those emblems on your armor. I want nothing to do with local conflicts. If they ask, I know of no Squirrelâs name, no matter how infamous they are.â
He stared at Eskel for a moment, taken aback. Then he nodded. âVery well.â
1271
âI have a question actually,â Geralt of Rivia said quietly as he led Iorveth slowly through Flotsam, bound as a ruse for the second time. They ignored peopleâs heckling.
âGo on.â
âYouâve grown to trust me rather quickly. Asked me to bind you right after you met me, ruse or not. Now youâre letting me walk you through Flotsam, and none of your Scoiaâtael are watching.â
âSo whatâs the question?â
âWhat if I actually gave you to Loredo? Letho betrayed you too. Why is sly old Iorveth so willing to trust witchers?â
Iorveth breathed deep, then let it out in a sigh. âYou may have a point, Gwynbleidd. Perhaps I am getting old⊠Letho is another matter, he gave me a kingâs head to convince me. He cares not for honor or integrity. Youâre different.â
âHow sure are you?â
âAre you saying Iâm wrong about you?â
âNo. Just curious.â
Iorveth took another deep breath. âYou wear a wolf medallion. I know of one other who did, and he saved my life⊠I suppose that made me trust you easier.â
Geralt suddenly had a thousand questions, but they had arrived at the prison barge. He wouldnât get to ask for a long time.
1272
Eskel heard a commotion from outside.
When he ran to the courtyard, he saw Geraltâs blue clad Temerian friends yelling at a group of elves that had come to help fight the Wild Hunt. Of course. One in particular, half his face covered in a bandana, seemed to provoke them, and the calmer he was, the more pissed off the Temerians seemed to get.
He saw Geralt walk over to deescalate the situation. Eskel too approached to help, but halted in place as the elf turned his head toward him.
The courtyard grew quiet. Even Vernon Roche shut up once he noticed the two staring at each other.
He heard Geralt hum. That particular tone indicated understanding.
âCaedâmil, vattâghern,â the elf called to Eskel, his eye glinting under the joyful sun. âLong time no see.â
eskel/jaskier with some unrequited geralt/jaskier and eskel/geralt, and jaskier learning more about geralt's life off the path
Jaskier had been travelling with Geralt for seventeen years before Geralt finally invited him to Kaer Morhen for the winter. He'd long ago processed his crush on Geralt, knowing it was hopeless, particularly after Yennefer came into their lives - but damn if the invitation hadn't still set butterflies in his stomach. Nonetheless, he was unendingly curious about the place Geralt considered home, not just where he spent his winters but also where he'd grown up, where he'd become the person he was when Jaskier met him. If nothing else, it would give him good material for his songs. So in the next decently-sized city, he dispatched a letter to Oxenfurt informing them he would be unable to teach that winter, and he and Geralt made their way north.
The way there wasn't too terrible; the terrain was a bit tricky, but Geralt knew the trails like the back of his hand, and guided them safely through the woods. The massive stone keep was impressive, even crumbling as it was, and Jaskier couldn't help but look around in awe as they dismounted and led their horses to the stable. Roach and Pegasus were set up beside Scorpion, a black mare who Geralt said belonged to his brother Eskel, and an unnamed stallion he said belonged to Lambert. "He never names his horses," he said, with the kind of shrug that told Jaskier very plainly that Geralt disapproved, but had never managed to change Lambert's mind. There was also, in the stall next to Scorpion, a goat, which seemed reasonable enough to Jaskier - an animal to provide milk through the winter, but taking up less space and food than a cow.
They hauled their bags into the biggest still-mostly-standing building and were greeted by enthused shouts from four witchers Jaskier had never met. Everyone took a turn hugging Geralt, and Eskel, Coën, and Vesemir all shook Jaskier's hand. Coën, Lambert, and Vesemir were much as Geralt had described them, and he had warned Jaskier about Eskel's scar, but he hadn't mentioned that, aside from the hair and the scars, he was the spitting image of Geralt, if a little thicker around the middle. Lambert greeted them last, and in lieu of a handshake he sniffed at the bard, calling out to all assembled that this was the man Geralt always smelled like and clapping him on the shoulder. "Nice to finally meet you! Bet you have some embarrassing stories to tell about our Wolf here."
my @merrywitchermas gift for @pastelpinkcheeks - hope you enjoy it! read the rest on AO3
A @merrywitchermas gift for @tinymacaroni! Please enjoy this humble offering of Geralt/Regis getting together fluff <3
âYouâll tire of wine soon, no doubt,â Regis says, standing at the door for the fourth time that week bearing a bottle of red and a rueful smile, âbut, well. When in Toussaint, as it were.â
Finally get to post my @merrywitchermas rare pair secret santa for @faetxlity! Iâm sorry again that it took so long- life has a way of getting in the way. But I hope you enjoy this anyway!
Lambert and Aiden (a mash-up of several Aiden designs I like), stealing a moment in between.
My @merrywitchermas gift for @squiddviscous! I hope you like it! I'm so sorry it's not more game-focused, but I really wanted to tell a hurt/comfort story about what Triss lost at Sodden, and how Philippa heals her. I used Netflix canon for a bit because I liked this healing starting in secret.
summary: Triss Merigold survived the Battle of Sodden Hill-- and wished she hadn't. That is, until she experienced a mysterious mage healing her in her dreams, whose teasing, tempting touches begin to bring her back to life.
Philippa Eilhart has taken a particular interest in a little witch's recovery, but what begins as a purely mercenary effort to gain an ally grows... complicated.
please please please mind the content warnings on ao3
excerpt:
She couldnât feel life anymore. Not in the mages surrounding her. Not even in the plants and grasses and trees, the connection to which she had always felt, even from an infant. That pulsing green throbbing push of pure life reaching and reaching. For sun, for water, for nitrogen, for connection.
She was withered.
One endless, ceaseless day, she felt her chin be tipped, and a draught poured down her throat, and she moved back into grateful unconsciousness.
Until she dreamt again.
She dreamt of dark eyes in a field of soft white, their gaze clear and strong.
She dreamt of dark hair, curls swinging.
She dreamt of thin, strong fingers softly prodding her dress aside. Gently dancing across her skin, warm and sparking with life, snaking across her chest.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Witcher (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Haunted Houses, Alternate Universe - Regency
Summary:
On the longest night of the year, Julian Alfred Pankratz, newly-minted Viscount de Lettenhove, must learn how to be a homeowner, banish a ghost, and improve his dubious reputation. Geralt and Yennefer lend a hand.
Happy New Year, @handwrittenhello! I had a great time writing you a fic for the @merrywitchermas event. I hope you enjoy this lighthearted bit of seasonal fluff, incorporating Regency themes, our favourite mage-bard-witcher trio, and the beginnings of a relationship.Â
