Absolutely love your writing!
I am a sucker for Netflix!Lambert so i was hoping you could write someting for him. Like the reader comes to Kaer Morhen with Triss to help with Ciri, and also reunites with Lambert, something cute 😄.
A/N: Hi babe! I have had this finished for a while and I thought I already posted this specific fic.... but I don't believe I have.... So if someone recognizes it as something they have seen before, please let me know! I will redo your (anon's) request and make a new one!
***
“Have you ever thought of letting the poor girl bathe, Geralt?” You said. Ciri turned her head to you, scowling.
“I bathe!”
“It surely doesn’t look like it, darling.”
“Kaer Morhen isn’t exactly accommodated for princesses.” Geralt told you.
“Bathing isn’t just for princesses, you dimwit.”
The White Wolf let out a sigh, adjusting his grip on the boar that he carried over his shoulders.
“Oh, Y/N. I’ve missed you.”
“I’m sure you have.” You fixed the way your cloak wrapped around your body in an effort to retain as much body heat as you could. The wind was chilling and snow was beginning to fall.
“Who’s come this winter?” Triss asked from her place to your right.
“I suppose all that’s left of us. Vesemir, Coen, Eskel. Just the usual.”
“And Lambert?”
“He–,”
“He’s there.” You spoke over Geralt, keeping your eyes focused on the path ahead. “I’d know if something happened to him.”
“Keeping your eye on him?” Geralt raised a brow in your direction.
“I have to. He’s an imbecile and a moron. If he gets himself killed, I don’t want his corpse to be rotting in an alley or field for months until we find him.”
“Ever the optimist, aren’t you?”
“I find it a little difficult to be optimistic about the same man who once tried to fight an entire clan of nekkers without elixirs or his swords.”
“I remember hearing about that.” Triss looked over at you. “Lambert said he was dared to fight them without any weapons.”
“I believe he was drunk when he accepted the dare and even more drunk during the fight.”
You nodded softly, letting out a sigh.
***
“I brought dinner.” Geralt announced as Triss opened the door to the keep for the group following behind her which consisted of yourself, Cirilla, and Geralt.
Vesemir turned to face the small party that entered the dining hall.
“More than that.” A fond smile came to Vesemir’s face as he approached Triss, his eyes flickering between you and the redhead. “My child, what a surprise.”
As the two greeted each other, your eyes focused on the red haired witcher just behind him.
“Ah, hell. Who invited the fucking mages?” Lambert crossed his arms as you approached him. He did his best to stand stoic and stone faced, but the smile that crept across your lips seemed to break him. A smile of his own came out beneath his beard.
“I think Lambert’s got you beat for the prettiest red curls at Kaer Morhen, Triss.” You looked over your shoulder to tease your friend but before you could even look back at Lambert, he was wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of the floor.
You laughed as he squeezed you with enough force to nearly break your bones.
“Prettiest my ass.” He set you back on your feet.
“I wish you ladies had come sooner.” Vesemir spoke, taking your attention away from him. “We all could have used you.”
“Hopefully we still can.” Geralt said. Your eyes fell on Ciri, offering the girl a smile when she looked at you.
“I’ll go and dress for dinner. I assume you’ll all want to wash up as well?” Triss began to cross the room.
Coen scoffed, looking at Lambert.
“Let me rephrase that for Triss. If you don’t wash, you don’t eat.” You looked from Coen, to Lambert, then to Geralt. “Understood?”
“Fucking shit. Are you going to lash us if we don’t listen?” Lambert’s hand fell from your back.
“Oh, I wouldn’t give you the pleasure, darling.” You smirked just a little. “Now go prepare that boar. Ciri and I will make sure the kitchen is ready.”
“What?” Ciri furrowed her brows. She looked to Geralt as if he’d get her out of kitchen duty.
“You don’t want to argue with her.” The White Wolf shook his head.
“Last one who tried turned into fiend food.” Coen added with a chuckle.
“Come along, princess.” You began to lead the way to the kitchen.
Lambert followed you first, moving ahead to push the door to the kitchen open for you.
He didn’t even give you two seconds to enter the kitchen before he was grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss.
You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips, your hands coming up to hold on to his broad shoulders. His facial hair tickled and scratched your skin, but you didn’t mind. You actually missed the feeling. It was a pleasant reminder of your witcher.
But the moment didn’t last long as Cirilla entered the kitchen. You pulled away from Lambert, pressing your hand against his chest.
“Princess, wash your hands up and find some dishes in the cupboard, would you? I’m not sure if anyone’s showed you, but the dishes are in the cupboard over there.” You pointed across the room.
“We have dishes?” Ciri raised her eyebrows.
Lambert chuckled.
“How was the Path?” You asked him, your eyes flickering down to the medallion on his chest.
“Long and fucking annoying. I really wish you’d join me.” He spoke quietly, briefly eyeing the princess just to make sure she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.
“I have my own duties to tend to.” You gave him a little smile. “You know that.”
“I know.” He grumbled, bringing his hand up to hold your hand that rested against his chest. “Just sometimes wish I had ya around to keep me company.”
The door to the kitchen opened again and in walked Coen and Geralt. Geralt carried the boar across his shoulders.
“What are you doing with that in here?” You pointed to the slain animal. Geralt placed it down on the table in the center of the kitchen with little ease.
“Butchering it so we can eat it.” He answered you very matter of factly.
“Not in here you aren’t!”
“It’s cold as fuck outside!”
“Oh come on, Y/N! Afraid of a little blood?” Coen teased.
You glared at him.
“Fine. Butcher the beast, then I want the entire kitchen scrubbed top to bottom.”
“Ha!” Lambert barked out a laugh.
“That includes you.” You told him.
“Who’s really in charge here? Her or Vesemir?” Coen muttered to Geralt as the latter began to cut into the boar. “Y/N, have you asked Lambert about that new scar on the side of his neck?”
“What?” You turned your head to look at the witcher.
“Piss off, Coen!”
“What the hell did you do, Lambert?”
“Got into it with a nasty wyvern without my sword.” The witcher grinned as though it was something to be proud of.
You opened your mouth to say something, but found that you were too stunned to speak.
You took Lambert’s chin and turned his head so you could inspect the scar. It was nasty and jagged and made your stomach churn from what could have happened, what nearly happened.
You shook your head, rubbing your brow. You could feel a headache beginning– and you had only just arrived at Kaer Morhen.
“See, Geralt? An absolute imbecile.”
Geralt nodded as if he agreed, a little grin playing on his features.
“How is it that you’re able to keep track of Lambert’s whereabouts if you two aren’t together on the Path?” Ciri curiously asked you.
“He wears a talisman that allows me to hone in on his location whenever I’d like. It also detects his life force, so if his heart were to cease beating, I’d know.” You moved away from Lambert, knowing you needed to help get dinner started and it wouldn’t happen if you stayed near him.
“Spying on me?” Lambert placed his hands on his hips. “You sorceresses and your tricks.”
You smiled, glancing over to him.
“Oh, darling witcher. I thought you enjoyed my tricks.”
“Well that depends on the trick.”
“Keep it clean.” Geralt interjected, nodding in Ciri’s direction. “She doesn’t need to hear any of that.”
“I don’t need to hear any of that.” Coen shook his head.
Taglist will be reblogged because tumblr hates me :)