A/N : hey y’all, this is the very first chapter! please let me know what you think of it, feedback is greatly appreciated :) love jess
You were so fucking excited for the concert.
Maggie and you had been saving up for a trip to Europe during spring break and were floored to get to go. It also helped that her father had been kind enough to take you girls with him on his company jet since he had a meeting in Germany (CEO of one of the biggest companies had its perks).
After Maggie and you had parted ways with him, you both spent a few days traveling around Darmstadt when Maggie got a call from her father saying one of his colleagues had gotten concert tickets to a show in Basel for his daughter’s birthday but she wasn’t going to be able to make it and gave them to him for Mags instead.
“Ya dad, what’s up?—no way really? Of course we’ll go! Okay, tell him thank you for us!”
“You got concert tickets.” You stated, after taking a sip of your lemonade you bought from the small German woman that had been selling them at the farmer’s market you both stumbled across.
Maggie rolled her eyes at you, “I can never surprise you can I?!” You laughed, “Sorry! It’s not like I can help it.” “I know, you’ve got your super psychic abilities that unables me to throw you a surprise birthday party!” She exclaimed, then blew a raspberry as if to prove her disappointment.
You were psychic, sort of. Your parents first noticed it when you would say the delivery line of a joke in sync with the late show host of whatever was playing on the TV.
A/N : hello people, hope you are all staying safe in these scary times! please stay in quarantine but if you must do out and don’t have a mask, get creative and use scarfs! gloves! mittens! anything to cover up!! i’ve been having bad writers block so thats why this have been taking a while! love y’all
masterlist
chapter 1
Chapter 5 : The Book
Geralt woke up to something poking him in the back, (no not like that you dirty thinkers). He turned around to see a small twig floating in the air, twirling around when it finally got his attention. “What is it?” He said the small piece of branch. In the soil below, the twig carved out the word breakfast.
“Hmm.” Was all the man said, he stood, gathered his things and walked back to the house.
…
“Y/N please teach me how you make this all happen!” Jaskier exclaimed as he watched the kitchen work along side her. She smiled and tapped her finger on a bowl, making it magically sprout little ceramic legs and walk over to the pan, pouring the batter into little circles.
As the two chatted about rituals, Geralt came in through the already open door that had been letting in the morning breeze.
He watched as Y/N made no notion to acknowledge that he was there and continue to show Jaskier something. The bard smiled at him but then immediately turned back to the Wiccan lesson he was being taught.
“—so then you just circle your finger around it and will it to do what you need. Simple right?” “Can I try?” He asked, Y/N moved out of the way and watched as Jaskier drew small symbols in the flour that had been sprinkled out on a wood board.
Her face crinkled a bit when something was wrong, so she wrapped her self around Jaskier and took his hand in hers to trace the correct symbol.
For some reason, Geralt didn’t like this at all.
“There you go! Look, its working.” She exclaimed as the small mug waddled over to the pitcher that poured some fresh tea into it. The bard smiled and triumphantly picked up the cup and took a sip.
“Your twig said breakfast?” Geralt interrupted, disturbing the sweet mood that had over taken the house. The Wiccan’s back stiffened at the proclamation and Jaskier rolled his eyes at the sour tone his friend had.
“Sure, you can pick up that apron and start slicing the strawberries or would you like us to do that and also braid your hair?” The musician quipped, earning a stifled laugh from Y/N and a surprised expression on the Witcher’s face.
The two went back to working on breakfast and Geralt’s sour face made him look like he was scorching a spot in the small wood chair he sat in.
A few minutes later, Geralt watched plates float over to the table, glasses bounced on an invisible trampoline over to sit next to the plates that had now settled down in front of each seat.
Forks and and knives flew straight over as well, one knife flying particularly close to the monster hunter’s face. Probably not much of a coincidence, considering the faint chuckle that emerged from the Wiccan as the blade almost sliced a tendril of his hair.
Y/N twirled around with a plate of pancakes for the table and eloquently sat them down on the table. “Bon appétit!” She said while the pitcher poured water into a couple cups. Jaskier and her sat down and started putting food on their plates, Geralt looked at the set up before him.
Strawberries were cut to look like little flowers, scrambled eggs in a large bowl that was the shape of a daisy and the stack of pancakes sat in the middle of the table, already being dwindled down by the group.
After the plates had been emptied and bellies full, the three sat to chat and tease— well, Geralt watched as Jaskier and y/n chatted and teased each other. He felt like an outsider in the conversation and decided to get on with the real reason they were there.
“So what you planning to do about the demon attacks?” He asked, finished off his cup of ale that Y/N had begrudgingly given him when he requested it. Not a breakfast drink if you ask me, she had mumbled setting it down in front of him.
The Wiccan paused for a moment as if to collect her thoughts and then spoke, “Well, I’ve been on the run for so long that it would be very easy to just go into hiding again.”
Geralt gave her an unimpressed look and she continued, “But, the body count is becoming to high to turn my cheek this time, so I guess I’ll be forced to deal with it.” “What does that exactly mean?” Jaskier asked.
Y/N snapped her fingers and the door swung shut and ice started to cover over the windows.
“Just precautionary measures.” She stated.
She stood up from the table and went over to the couch, she tapped a specific wood board on the wall and it popped open, she reached into the small opening and pulled out a giant book from its weird angled hiding place.
She dusted it off and came back to the two boys sitting at the table. She rose it into the air over the table and dropped it with a smack!
All the items that had been used for breakfast had scatter to the far edge where no one was sitting before being crushed with the book thankfully.
The book in the center of the table was very old, years of use could be seen in the bindings and edges. It was covered in a dark brown leather that had metal sculptures in four corners of an old atlas that was printed into the cover and in the dead center, a strange compass with a gem stone embedded.
“This is what I’ll use.” She said, Jaskier skimmed his fingers over the marks that went around the compass and then flipped it open to the first page.
It was blank.
The bard looked up at her with a confused expression adorning his facial features and Geralt’s wasn’t far from it, the Witcher flipped a few more pages and they were all the same, empty.
“What are you going to do, draw the enemy away?” He scoffed, this seemed utterly ridiculous. How could a blank book do anything?
Y/N pursed her lips, the faint inkling of a smirk hidden. She closed the book and then simply reopened it, this time it was definitely not blank.
Jaskier gasped as the three of them saw the pages come alive. It was like a map book but, alive.
The page they had flipped to was a small town on the coast, the paper had little names moving around it as though it was following the human assigned to the name.
Y/N ran her finger down the center of the page and then touch a building that was labeled Stakel’s Pub.
Magically, ink covered the page and then soaked back down again, revealing the inside of the store like you were looking in from the ceiling. Geralt watched in disbelief as the bartender cleaned out a glass before pouring beer into it and a couple sitting at the far table make out.
“This is— these haven’t been used for—“ “Centuries?” Y/N quipped, with a raised eyebrow. Geralt continued, “These books are myths, legends. It’s not possible that you have one.”
The girl stretched her arms up and looked toward the ceiling, “Are you seriously doubting that this isn’t real? Isn’t it sitting right in front of you?”
“Yes but—” “Is it maybe possible that I have items from my father?” “Possible but—” “Couldn’t I have been keeping it safe till I intended to use it?”
“Fine alright, but how do you plan to use it? How will this find the demons? It doesn’t exactly seem to show what spirits are wandering around.”
With a roll of her eyes, she flipped the page and took three fingers to drawn a circle in the left corner, all the human names disappeared from the paper and lots of other names popped up, also with a date underneath each.
“The date is the year they died.” She said, clearing up Jaskier’s confusion as he mumbled does thing have a key or something?
Her eyes returned to the Witcher sitting at her table, “I’m going to find the Gate to Hell and sneak in.”
“What?!”
Both men had gob-smacked expressions, “I need to access the pool of knowledge and submerse myself in it for 10 seconds, that will give me enough time to search through and find who is sending these knights after me.”
Jaskier sputtered, “Find the—Gates of Hell?! Oh god, How did I get myself into this mess?! I can’t—” Geralt talked over Jaskier’s rambling, “This atlas knows where it is?”
She scratched her eyebrow and went to sit down across the table from the two. “Not exactly, I need to first find a few things and then it will.” “What things…” Geralt pressed.
“I need the last words of a dying person, a four leaf clover found by a magical child, and the blood of a loved one.”
The Witcher slouched back in the chair and rolled his head back, “Fuck.”
He took a deep breath and then stood, “Let’s get started.”
im releasing the 5th chapter of Chamomile in like 20 mins, sorry its taken so long, I’ve been having bad writers block. Also, I’m gonna try and get back on to Merlin’s Blood sometime this week.
Okay so I can either let the Bard drown and the Witcher die from water in his lungs… or save them.
Gross.
“Help! Oh please have mercy on me gods above! I’ll be good I promise, I’ll, I’ll pick up trash with I see it, I’ll pay for beer next time Geralt and I are at a pub! I’ll change my underwear daily—“
“Okay please stop I don’t need to know any more details about that!”
“AHH!”
Jaskier’s grip slipped as your voice surprised him but he clung onto the log for dear life again. He looked relieved to see you but then his face dropped. “Y/N you need to get out of here! I mean, putting me on the bank would be helpful but I don’t know when Geralt will wake up and… I don’t want him to do something he’ll regret.”
You moved your hand across the top of the water, dipping only your index and middle finger into the liquid. His shirt detached from whatever it was caught on and he started flowing downstream on the log. You then waved your arm and the current turned him to the bank. He climbed up onto the shore, panting from all the swimming.
“Alright,” you turned to leave but stopped and let out a big breath, “hold on, one more thing.”
You walked off the water and over to Geralt, Jaskier started crawling faster over, as if trying to block your path.
“Relax, I’m not going to kill him.”
Even though I should, but mom would never forgive me.
“Darling! What on Earth are you doing to the curtains?!” Your mother came rushing into the library, catching 9 year old you staring in terror and embarrassment at the satin curtains that were now on fire. “Mommy! I didn’t mean to! Rhean was teasing me about my lineage and I—“
Rhean was your older brother, well, adoptive older brother. His family and the kingdom he was from perished in a horrible war with the neighboring kingdom. The king was your father’s best friend and they had both made a vow that if something happened to the other, they would take in their children as their own.
You were only two when this happened and since you were the only child your parents ever had (i.e no boys) your father decided that it would be easier to just pass the throne to him.
Your mother had fought for you but in the end, to quote your dad, ‘it might be easier to just have a human rule a human kingdom instead of… whatever she is.’
Yeah, ouch.
Rhean, once he was old enough to understand that he would become king, made it his destiny to torture you with the fact that you had been passed up to rule and he was going to be in charge. You didn’t know why he punished you, maybe because of the fact that he had no family?
Honestly, it didn’t matter cause in the end, he died.
Your mother wrapped her arms around you and moved her right hand down in a straight line, ceasing the fire that raged in the room full of books. “It’s alright darling, look everything is back to normal.” You sniffled, “I’m not normal.”
She smiled sweetly at you but with a bit of sadness behind it. But you didn’t notice, you were 9 and the most important thing to you in that moment was what would happen to the now ruined curtains.
“It’s good to not be normal, being normal would be boring, you’d be like everyone else.” The queen picked you up and carried you up to your room, leaving a few maids to deal with the curtains.
Once in your room, your mother and you sat on the bed, looking out of the window watching the stars twinkle in the edge of evening. “Mommy, what’s Rhean always teasing me about? I’ve looked through almost all the books we have here but I can’t find any answers. What’s the matter with my lineage?” She took your hands in hers, “There’s nothing wrong with our bloodline, it’s just different from others and that makes them scared.”
You climbed farther up on the bed and wrapped your arms around your tiny kid legs, “How does Rhean know more about it than me?” “Your father thought that it would be better if the,” she swallowed, “future king knew about our… abilities.”
You scoffed, “He’s not the rightful heir, but he’s been chosen to precede father, how is that fair.”
She continued, “Y/N I need you to know that you are very powerful. Forget anything that Rhean says, just believe in yourself and be careful who you tell things to, the important things.”
She climbed up next to you snuggling down into the comforter. “The important things?” You questioned. “People can be cruel, you have a magic that some could only wish to imagine. Don’t tell anyone what you can do, unless you’re sure.”
“Okay Mommy.”
You moved both your hands each one starting from the top to the bottom, creating a circle. Then you moved both hands up, index fingers pointing at Geralt. Immediately he started coughing up water.
“Alright, since I just saved the man who wants to kill me, I’m going to leave and try to get a head start.” You turned to leave when the white-haired man rasped, “Wait.”
“Why should I?” You exclaimed, whipping around to see the two companions propped up against a tree. “Because I want to know if you know this name.” You crossed your arms, “Okay, shoot.”
“Nheanr.”
You searched your mind, eyebrows scrunched together.
Nheanr?
Doesn’t ring a bell. Hm.
“Nope, sorry. Can I go now?” The Witcher stood up on jelly legs, grumbling incoherent words to himself. Quickly, you moved into a defensive stance not knowing if he was tricking you or not. Moving your hands out to the water, you made an icicle form and come float at your side, pointed and ready to strike.
“I’ve decided not to kill you.”
You made a sarcastic grin at him, “Gee thanks, what a relief.” Jaskier now staggered up and walked between you. “Alright, so Geralt has said he means no harm, can you lower the ice dagger please?” You shot him a look, “You really think I’m going to believe him?”
The tall man leaned against the tree, “Why would someone be trying to kill you?” He said. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Hmm, I wonder why someone who wants to kill a person powerful enough to wipe out an entire order of mages and start a dictatorship over the entire continent.” The musician scrunched his face, “she’s got a point there.”
“Well whoever they are, they seem pretty determined to take your bloodline out.” You sighed, slightly lowering the icicle, causing Jaskier to let out a small breathe of relief.
“I just don’t know who has the records to know who’s a descendant and who isn’t, the books of my family tree were burned so long ago to keep us safe.” “Well, apparently some knowledge of your abilities didn’t go up in flames.”
You laughed and sunk into your left hip, dropping the hold on your dagger and propping your hand on your right hip. “You think?”
Time is of the essence, I need to go.
“I guess thanks for deciding to not kill me but I gotta go—“ “Wait!” Before you could teleport to anywhere but there, the bard shouted out. You looked at him, hand in position to leave, “What?” He shrugged his shoulders and walked over to Geralt, suspiciously mouthing something to him with his back turned you determined from the change in the Witcher’s face. He, with all his strength it looked like, wrapping an arm around the grumbling man and pulling him over to you.
“Why don’t we accompany you?”
You can never get things done simply can you Y/N?
You chuckled and started walking away, “Sorry boys I don’t feel like babysitting while on the run for my life.”
At your statement, the Witcher seemed to gain a bit of confidence and snapped back, “What do you mean babysit?” The two travel companions started following you into the forest, decidedly leaving the flooded river behind. You sighed and slowed your pace to walk between them.
“Didn’t I just save your life back there?” “Actually—“ “And didn’t I get your precious bard out of danger in that town— “Hey I was helping you—“ “Didn’t I have to take over the reins of, what’s his name, Roach?” At that statement, Geralt cackled surprisingly. “You never mentioned that Jaskier.” The musician now was a lovely shade of pink.
“Speaking of, where is your horse?” “Traded him for extra money I’ll get him later.” You raised an eyebrow at the odd statement but let it go, seeing as it wasn’t the strangest thing about this whole ordeal.
“Alright so where are we going, any plan?” Jaskier asked.
You bit the inside of your lip, debating if you could tell them your emergency idea you were thinking about the moment you watched that arrow embed itself in Branson. “Yeah, sort of.”
“Go on then, what’s the first step on this journey?”
I was wondering if I could make a request with jaskier and geralt?
I really love the innocent shy reader stories and I wanted to request something maybe where the reader is a very sensitive person emotionally and the boys freak out slightly and make a super harsh comment after reader screws up during a hunt, maybe they accidentally blow up on her for putting herself in danger and getting hurt, but they end up making her cry or hurt her feelings in the end then end up feeling really bad when she starts to distant herself, not really talking to them on they’re trips and ignoring them
A/N: What a fantastic prompt, this really gets the writing juices going!
She always put her heart before her head, feelings and emotions seem to overrule and logical ideas and sense that came to mind because if she felt in her heart it was the right thing to do– she was damn well gonna do it.
The boys knew this as her nature and always took it with a grain of salt, knowing to not press certain buttons that could result in catastrophic results. But one night, Geralt just snapped.
It had been an easy mission really. A small village that sat near a lake had been experiencing ‘problems’ with fishermen going missing and the occasional child taking a dip to cool off but never coming back. The trio had been passing through when Jaskier overheard a group of drunken men exclaiming, “I’m not gonna catch me one more bloody fish until that thing is gone!”
After a bit of asking around, the Witcher deduced that a Vodnik, or Drowner, was the reason for these killings. Y/N made quick work with the pub owner that if they killed the water creature they would be rewarded. The group set out that night to take a “lovely boat ride in the moonlight while awaiting our doom,” as Jaskier grumbled on the walk to the water’s edge.
The huntress-in-training chuckled at the bard’s statement and turned to Geralt. “So how are we going to do this?” She asked, pulling her cloak tighter around her. He grunted, “There’s not a we in this situation Y/N, I’m just going be in and out as fast as possible.” Y/N lower her eyes and hummed, “Look Geralt, I know I’m not as experienced with this species of monster as you are, but this of it this way, it could be another lesson?”
Y/N had joined the two after a horrific war broke out between two mages in her town. Her mother and younger brother were in the market square when the first spells had been fired, and well, Y/N didn’t make it in time. With no one and nowhere to go, she somehow convinced the ‘Great Geralt of Rivia’ to take her under his wing as a sort of apprentice, given that she didn’t get in the way. (Also, Jaskier had been very excited from the idea of a girl accompanying them.)
Training had been going very smoothly for the past 6 months and Y/N was itching to get some action in the field, but Geralt didn’t seem to think her mind-set was ready for it yet as she acted mainly from impulse and not strategy. “I won’t have you die from a snide comment inside your head tell you it’s time to be a martyr Y/N, it’s not sensible.” Geralt had said a while back. Still, she wanted to help and it was starting to get to her that the only thing she’d killed or used her sword for was hunting game.
Geralt shook his head at her question, “Not a chance, you’ve only been practicing on land and now I’ll be in the water at night, I can only focus on so many problems—” “Hey!” “—in the moment.”
The conversation subsided and they reached the lake. It was beautiful at night, the moon glistened off the surface and a gust of wind made ripples in the water, making it seem like the reflection was dancing.
There was a long dock that stretched out into the water, boats hooked to the right side of it in the water, leaving the left stretch of wood for fun times in the summer heat. It creaked underneath their shoes as they came to a stop.
The Witcher started taking off pieces of armor and items that would only weigh him down in the dark liquid of night. Soon all he had on was his billowy grey tunic and the black trousers and boots that he always wore. Tying his hair into a small bun, he turned and said, “Hopefully I can lure it to the coastline so at least I won’t be underwater the whole time.” With one quick swig of his potion, the hunter’s eyes turned black, grabbed his sword and dove into the water.
The bard tsked and muttered something along the lines of ‘of course his dive is effortlessly perfect’ and leaned down against one the wood poles, strumming his lute and listening to Geralt’s movement in the water every so often.
Y/N stared out at the lake when it seemed like nothing was happening any time soon, she took her cloak and travel pieces as well, not wanting to carry the weight while she waited. She dropped the satchel and co. deciding to take a walk along the beachline where this fight was hopefully about to take place.
All of a sudden, Geralt emerged from the water with the Drowner in a chokehold. It was a slippery battle between the two as they sloshed in the water, Y/N was frozen on the bank watching this happen, she could hear Jaskier in the distance running over across the sandy ground.
But then the Drowner somehow got a hold of Geralt’s shirt and flung him over into the liquid below. She acted in an instant, running out into the water and holding her sword ready to strike.
Sloshing towards the creature ready to drown the Witcher, she called out, “Just because you’re constantly pruney doesn’t mean you need to take it out on others!” The monster turned at the noise and grinned, deciding that this smaller person would probably be a good appetizer before the main course.
Y/N swung her sword down across it’s legs, dodging it’s arms that tried to wrap around her. The long gash now to Y/N’s surprise didn’t bleed at all. But then the upper hand was lost when the monster reached out and snatched the sword right from her hand, grabbing the blade like it wasn’t cutting into its palm. The Drowner grabbed Y/N by the throat and shoved her underwater, holding her to the soft sand below.
Y/N struggled, hands around the arm holding her down. This is it, she thought, the moment I die by trying to prove myself, gods what an idiot I am. But then the hand was ripped away from her neck as something above had taken the Drowner by surprise.
She pushed up out of the water immediately, gasping in desperately needed gulps of air. She was able to see Geralt with one fast chop, cut the head off the monster, letting the body go limp and fall into the water. He wadded over to her, scooping her up effortlessly and walked back to shore. Jaskier was there pacing on the beach line.
“Y/N? Geralt is she breathing?!” The bard worried, racing to the Witcher’s side as soon as possible. “She’s fine,” he huffed and dropped her on the sand, now with a glare on the drenched girl before him.
“What were you even thinking?! I told you I would handle it, and you go and get yourself almost killed?!” The Witcher shouted, jabbing a finger into her face to emphasize the situation. “Geralt, I’m sorry— it’s just it looked like you needed help and—“ “Sorry? Sorry doesn’t cover it!” The monster hunter laughed, throwing his head back and then turned, a look on his face that seemed, dangerous.
“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think a person like you would amount to anything, let alone be a logical hunter.”
Hurt flashed through her eyes, and she shrank into herself. “You don’t think Y/N, and I can’t waste my time on someone who’s just going to get themselves killed on their first hunt.” The girl turned to the bard, who had been quiet during the argument at hand.
Shakingly, she stood up, “Do you agree, Jaskier?” She said with a small voice. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, looked down at his hands a mumbled, “It’s not that you don’t mean well, it’s just sometimes your decisions affect us as well and mostly in a bad way.”
Y/N stumbled back, her bottom lip quivering slightly. They don’t trust me, they never did.
…
The next few days went by in slow motion, Y/N hadn’t spoken to the two boys since their declaration.
The trip through the dense forest almost seemed too silent, usually Jaskier and Y/N would be dancing around the large burly man they both adored, singing all the bard’s song until Geralt threatened to snap his lute and use the pieces as fire kindling. Every twig break under one of their shoes seemed to make the tension worse.
Geralt had made no move to try and apologize and deep down, Y/N knew he never would. And that in itself made her swallow into herself more.
Jaskier had been trying to talk a bit to her, any time a conversation was had about other kills, he tried to look to her for feedback, but all he got was a blank stare.
Only one thing kept repeating in her mind.
They don’t trust me, they never did.
And they never will.
A/N: I didn’t know if you wanted a happy ending or not so I chose to leave it and could add to it if you want a redemption part added! thanks for the idea!
A/N: Hope y’all like it :) my requests are open btw if yall want me to write anything for you.
She stood at the edge of the stone balcony, overlooking the vast forest below here.
Small streams of smoke rose in the distance from the neighboring town, close enough to see but too far to reach. It was ironic really, all those capable bodies to come free her yet not one dare challenge the witch who kept her captive.
She’s there for a reason, they said.
It must be her destiny, they whispered.
She propped her head up on hands, both elbows balancing on the cold stone that crumbled beneath the very touch. “Maybe it will one day cave in and I’ll fall.” She mumbled to herself.
It was lonely in the castle, the girl hadn’t spoken to anyone since she was seven years old. She often wandered the hallways, speaking to the portraits that weren’t torn in half or eaten away by moths.
She gazed out into the horizon from the only place she could watch freedom pass her by. The witch had cast a spell onto the windows of the castle, blacking them out and making them unbreakable. Sure, there were small windows in various parts to light the rooms and hallways, but this balcony in the tower was the only spot she could feel the wind on her face or see the trees sway below her. Their tallest branches just out of her reach.
Too far to climb down and escape from either…
The girl sighed and got up, her dress protesting as it was too small for her now. The sleeves that used to cover her wrists came to her elbows now and the once floor-length dress now mid-length. It was a faded pink, and the bodice had little bows and embroidered roses along the collar.
Sometimes she would run her fingers across them and try to remember the people that must have loved her so much to add these details into a little girl’s dress.
As she walked through the hallway, light streaming in from above through tiny planes of glass, each a different symbol, she traced her fingertips on the wall, dipping into each grove and cut in the rock. The first day she was here, the girl had run through the whole castle looking for a secret passageway out, and she never found one.
The girl never ate or drank which was surprising, but she never felt hungry or the need to quench her thirst. Her lips were never chapped and she was always as clean as a person could have been in a magical prison.
She often wondered if the witch that had enchanted the castle, then maybe she had enchanted her as well.
To be a porcelain doll in a glass cabinet, forever, in the house of eternity.
The young captive didn’t know how long she had been here, time seemed to mess with her. Some mornings she would look out the balcony and the trees were a lovely orange, a day would go by and they were baren of leaves and had a small coat of snow covering them.
It couldn’t be the seasons, she thought. Those happen so slowly and this seems to happen in a mere week. Also as peculiar as that, the young maiden swore she sometimes saw for a moment people standing beneath the castle looking up at her.
It must be my imagination…
On one particular night, a strange noise woke her. The girl immediately sat up in bed, and low and behold, an arrow with a note attached to it was embedded into the post of the bed frame.
She snatched the note, full of adrenaline and hope.
It read,
I cannot free you from outside, you must do it on the inside of the castle. Mark these symbols in the place the outside world can come into the castle. Trace in blood.
The girl ripped the sheets off her and raced to the wooden desk across the room, she opened the bottom drawer and pulled the fake base of it up, revealing a small dagger. She took it out and held it in her hand with the note in the other.
Where does the outside come in?
As she wondered, a gentle breeze passed into the room and she quipped her head to the balcony.
Of course!
In the shine of the moonlight, she put the note in the center of the ground before her and with the dagger, cut a small line across her lower calf. When the blood pooled enough, she dipped her finger into it and drew the symbols in a half-circle like the balcony was shaped.
Then, the symbols started to glow a hazy green.
The girl darted up and grabbed the old cloak she had found in her first year from exploring the old rooms. She pulled out from underneath the bed a pair of old worn riding boots that once upon a time a girl must have used to ride horses here. They fit pretty well, and given that these were the only pair, they would have to do.
In one quick dash, she rounded up all the nick-necks she had collected over the years from the castle. A marble, a sparrows feather, her favorite book from the half-destroyed library the castle housed, the dagger, and a pendant.
She paused for a moment with the pendant.
It had been the only thing in her possession when she had been taken. It wasn’t much to go on, but there was a beautiful family crest that must mean something and could lead her home.
Home…
Her details of home were fuzzy, she didn’t know if it was the magic that effected her loss of memory or just time, but she didn’t have a solid notion of where she came from. Bits and pieces, like the warmth of fire against her skin, the laughter in a large room with music playing in the background, the sound of water being poured to a bathtub.
Shaking her head of the thoughts, she put the necklace around her neck, grabbed the note, and made her way to the front wooden doors which she hoped her opening at this very moment. She practice jumped down the spiraling staircase and bolted to the entryway.
But when she got there, nothing had changed.
The second she realized this, the girl dropped to the ground on her knees, shaking with a sob stuck in her throat. It was as if fate was playing a cruel joke on her. She took a breath and started walking back to her room, through the hallway of moonlight.
That's when she gasped.
The symbols in the glass panels all shine into a line on the stone floor, but they all looked incomplete in the moonlight somehow.
Every time she had come this way in the daytime, the sun had been at an angle that kept the shadows from falling into this position.
The only reason she hadn’t realized this sooner is that this hallway had always been too cold for her to want to come through at night and too painful to see the door that could have been her escape out.
The wooden doors had these beautiful bolts that always puzzled her the few times she had looked at them. They had no keyhole and seemed to be melted into the doors. After trying and failed to pry them off the doors, the girl had decided that trying something else may be more beneficial and with that, she never thought of them again.
She moved with quick haste to the first light marking and took the blood that was still condensing around the wound. The girl looked back and forth at the note and symbol, then connected the two where it seemed to need an extra piece.
They fit together perfectly.
The symbol started to glow green like before, but this time it changed and turned purple.
A lock popped on the door. Her eyes widened as she watched from the hallway as the top lock disintegrated.
She quickly got to work on all the others, sometimes having to rub away the blood and start again, but the end result always ended with a pop! and dust crumbling to the floor. On the last symbol she paused, this would be the moment she’d be free and to be quite honest, it scared her.
I haven’t been outside these walls for so long. How will I adapt to the world I only grew up watching from a window?
The girl looked down at the pendant and smiled.
Someone once loved me outside these walls, and if I can find that sort of love again, I’ll be fine.
With a shaky swallow, she traced the last symbol.
Instantly, the lock popped and then the doors started to glow a vibrant yellow from the seams and then dissipate. She walked over and pulled the handle.
It opened.
When she stepped out onto the soil, she couldn’t believe it.
Trees are so big.
The ground is so soft.
The young girl turned to look back at the castle and with one final glance, closed the door and stepped away from the entrance. The castle crumbled upon itself as she did that, and all that was left were ruins.
“Shh!”
Hm?
The girl turned to see where the noise came from and then remembered.
The note!
“Hello?” She called out, suddenly, the rustling came to an end and two men came out from behind a large tree. One, visibly shorter and with a bit more spunk in his step, had a vivacious blue tunic on and a lute strapped to his back. The other man was huge and remind her of the giants she read about in the fairytales she found in the library years ago. He had white hair that resembled moonlight and these extraordinary amber eyes that made her curious beyond measure. He was also holding a bow.
She walked toward them, “Are you the one that sent the message?” She asked, holding up the note. “Yes, took you quite a while to get it.” The gruff man said. She scrunched her eyebrows together, “What do you mean, this flew into my room only an hour ago.”
The what she presumed was a musician, came out from behind his rather beefy friend. “What do you mean an hour ago?! We sent that 2 and a half days ago into the castle.”
The young woman took a step back, “What…” The white-haired man’s eyes zeroed in on the pendant that had caught the moon’s rays with her movement.
Then his face drained of what little color was in it.
“Where did you get that?” He asked, pointed to her necklace.
“It’s my family crest I believe. Do you know the story of how I got here? A witch I believe kidnapped me and imprisoned me here, this was the only thing I had with me.”
The man then put his hand up to his forehead, “Fuck.” The bard, sensing his friend's concern, stepped forward. “What’s your name? I’m Jaskier, and he’s Geralt.”
The girl thought for a moment, “It’s um, Y/N I think.”
Geralt and Jaskier made eye contact with surprised looks on their faces. “What? What is it? Why does it matter?” “Because, Y/N, your kind— or family, died out over 667 years ago.”
“That’s not possible! I—, I—… I was going to find my family.”
Y/N crumbled to the ground, tears welling in her eyes. “What am I suppose to do now?” She looked down at the ground. The two boys looked at each other, unsure of what to do.
“You could come with us.”
Her head shot up, “Huh?” Jaskier watched forward hesitantly and crouched to her level. “Well, it’s not the most conventional plan but after we get you caught up with the few last hundred years and maybe some clothes that fit, you’d be a good travel companion.” He turned back to Geralt, “What do you think?” “Her family line was known for their immortality and special abilities, it could be useful in the future.”
She stood up at the mention of her family, “You know my history?” He nodded, “It’s folklore, but in a pinch, yes. We can probably find some books on it, though they’ll be very rare.”
Y/N smiled and took Jaskier’s hand, pulling him up. “This isn’t what I was looking for, but I’m thinking it’s a good alternative. Thank you.”
The three started walking away from the castle crumble that some of the townsfolk may have heard so it would be best to not be in the area at the moment. “So you know you’re a fairytale too right?” Jaskier said as you stepped over a large branch. “I’m what?”
“Yeah, you’re the Princess of the Time Capsule Castle, people throughout history have come to take a glance of the castle in hopes of seeing the girl frozen in time. They say that during some days, you could see a girl looking out from the balcony frozen in a specific position on the stone ledge.”
She laughed, “Are you serious?” “Yeah, I used to hear stories about you when I was little.”
The girl smiled.
This wasn’t the love I was hoping to find, but I’m glad it’s the one I found.
What Was Lost — Pt 1 (Jaskier x Reader) || Witcher
A/N: Okay so i started writing this and it was superrrr long, so i decided to split it into two. The second part will come out tomorrow, don’t you worry. Anyway, this is yet another entry for @thewitcherbingo so I hope everyone enjoys! Also, this was based on a post in the witcher tag that is linked below :)
Summary: Y/N, a famous bard, is cursed by a sorceress and loses her voice, leaving her only hope to get it back with the famous Witcher and her rival, Jaskier.
(based on this post)
Bingo Square Filled: Rivalry
Warnings: mentions of loss, grief, death, sex, drinking all the good stuff lmao; also fluff and angst!!
do you ever listen to an original movie score or classical music and the piece just screams into your soul and makes the center of your chest burn with all the possibilities in that moment and you want to accomplish everything you’ve ever dreamed about? you feel as though you could burst from your room to the cosmos and nothing would stand in your way? yeah me too
Geralt's age when things happen (based on Netflix)
Age 27: Beginning of the Great Cleansing, elves are slaughtered by humans
Age 32: Yennefer is born
Age 53: Renfri is born
Age 62: Jaskier is born
Age 71: Butcher of Blaviken. Renfri is killed by Geralt at age 18 (18! she deserved better)
Age 80: Meets Jaskier(18) and captured by elves while hunting for the Devil of Posada. "Toss A Coin To Your Witcher" composed.
Age 83: Breaks the Striga Curse. (The Striga is 14-years-old.) Meets Triss Merigold.
Age 89: Claims Law of Surprise (I'll accept his stupidity charges on count of being old).
Age 90: Ciri is born
Age 96: Becomes master of the Djinn. Meets Yennefer.
Age 102: Dragon Hunt. Breaks up with Yennefer and Jaskier on the mountain.
Age 103: Cintra falls at the hand of Nilfgaard. Meets Ciri(13).
Notes: Interesting how Geralt runs into two different teens(Renfri and Jaskier) who both inadverdently cement his public persona. Renfri's death makes him the Butcher of Blaviken and Jaskier's song makes him the hero Witcher.
do you ever read a piece of fanfic that is just so fucking spectacular that makes you actually feel things?
boy, i swear to god, i’m so goddamn grateful for every single one of you writers, yall literally giving us entertainment for free almost every goddamn week; and this is not only for those gracious magnificent bastards that are practically gods because they’ve perfected (and keep developing) their craft, this is also to that little (and equally amazing) writer that is just starting and might not be the best at it, you my friend keep writing because practice makes perfect, don’t stop writing if that’s what makes you happy. i just want all of yall to know that i appreciate you so goddamn much and yall the fucking best
to every fanfic writer out there: i love you, u crazy motherfucker
