Elf!Reader x Jaskier x Geralt [non romantic, not even close, just a group hang out ??????? kinda]
A/N: NOT gonna ramble in this post why i’ve been gone [partially could be blamed on, well, my witcher 3 play time, lol] but i loved writing this little one shot, just taking it slow and easy, ive been super-crushing on some peeps and writing romantic fics does things to me, so prepare for a whole lot of fluff throwup heading your way
Summary: Y/N is a elf [gender not defined] in Novigrad, trying to survive as they are becoming more and more suppressed and one day great Geralt and his buddy Jaskier come to Novigrad and they cross paths
Warnings: blood, swearing, death [not main characters]
Word Count: 2,059
Tensions were rising here in Novigrad, with Nilfgaard soldiers stomping the streets, witch hunt openly burning the sorceresses in the main squares, streets grew to be a dangerous place. Many of my kind were also abused, some even killed. Pointy-eared freaks was what we were most commonly referred too, and not many came to our rescue.
Being and elf in this day and age seemed to be one of the greatest sins.
Sitting now, in a tavern by the name of Rose and Thyme I was terrified to take my hood off. It shielded me from curious eyes, and I was just drinking wine, observing a group of men who had just sailed here from Skellige Isles. They were sharing stories about how they have slain a group of sirens and fought off pirates on their way here, which I highly doubted.
They seemed just drunk, old men, carrying Skellige shields, that had no marks on them whatsoever. No signs of any fighting, just their word saying it happened. I noticed some patrons leave, as they couldn’t handle any more of the loud shouts.
The door flung open and the entire place struck silent. I followed everyone’s gaze, to see two males enter. One had white hair, two swords and was wearing armour. I immediately recognized him as a witcher, no, as the witcher. White wolf, Geralt of Rivia. Man of legends.
And his companion, clutching his lute, was a bard. Vastly growing in popularity - Jaskier. I didn’t expect them to ever come to Novigrad, doubted witcher could find any jobs here. But yet, here they were. I curiously stared as Geralt approached the Skellige men.
“Heard you’re causing trouble.” He grunts, as Jaskier anxiously glances around. I avoid his eyes, waiting to see what happens next.
“And who the fuck are you?” One of the men shouts, and in a moment of bravery, I spring to my feet.
“Geralt of Rivia, have you not heard of him in Skellige?” I say, walking closer to them, as witchers yellow eyes throw daggers at me. “Butcher of Blaviken, that sound more familiar?”
“What is a butcher doing here?” The same man speaks, and I notice him grip his shield tighter. He’s scared.
“Some people informed me that you’re causing trouble. Killed a boy by the docs out of what, boredom?” I was not aware of the killed boy. I stare at the men as they struggle for words.
“He got in our way. And who cares about a bloody elf anyways?” Heat rushes to my cheeks as I take my hood off. I hear a gasp come somewhere from a tavern, as the bard and the witcher stare at me.
“Ask that question again.” I hiss, as one of the Skellige men unsheathes his sword.
“Witcher, do your job, kill the monster!” The same man yells.
For a moment, I am taken back, as Geralt does, in fact, unsheathe his sword. Jaskier jumps out of the way, mumbling something under his breath, but I don’t quite catch it. I stare at the witcher, wondering if this was a mistake.
He is stronger than me. More talented. Trained solider. But the world sees him as a monster, a freak. A mutant, however you want to phrase it. I bet he was called an abomination more times than I could count. I related to him. And he was stronger than most elves.
He could stand up for himself and fight. In turn, I hoped he would also help me. A fellow freak and a monster.
“I’d advise you to put that sword back.” He says, stepping in front of me. Shielding me from the men.
“I guess we’ll have to do it ourselves then. Two monsters in one go.” The skelligans all draw their weapons, as I jump back. At the same time, Jaskier grabs my hand, pulling me out of the way.
“Let’s not get in the middle of this.” I hear him say, as we rush to the other side of the tavern, as some terrified patrons duck under their tables.
It doesn’t take Geralt long to slay those men. They prove my suspicion, showing that they are horrible fighters. One of them , however, drops his shield, and I see him try to flee.
I only then notice he has a pointy ears necklace around his neck. In this pure moment of chaos, it feels like I can’t see anything else. I try to imagine that poor elven boy who was murdered by these men. And we are the monsters?
I slip around Jaskier, ignoring his shouts, rushing past Geralt, grabbing one of skelligan swords off the ground. The street is busy, and as soon as they see me with a weapon, all I hear are screams. People scrambling away. But then I also see the man, rushing around the corner.
Ignoring the crowd, I run after him, with nothing but rage driving me. I know it may as well be the last thing that I do, but I didn’t care. I also knew towns guard would soon be on my trail. My time was limited, and I didn’t even know how to properly wield a sword.
But for now, it was all one step at a time, chasing the man. I followed him down the streets, as they got more and more narrow, until I saw a dead end up ahead. He saw it to, stopping and drawing his sword. I lift mine.
“You don’t know how to fight, elf.” He hisses at me. “Drop your weapon and I might consider letting you walk out of this alive.”
“I like your necklace.” I ignore his warnings, as he takes a moment to look down, realizing why I chased after him.
“I might add yours to it if you don’t piss off.” I grip the sword tighter, but it’s already weighing down my arms. I hear some rumble somewhere behind me, and I know my time is ticking.
“Why did you do it? Why did you kill that boy?” I still ask, knowing there is no time for chit-chat. I just had to know.
“We had a victorious sail here, wanted people to know that the real soldiers have landed in Novigrad.” He shrugs, lowering his sword a little, our eyes meet, and he smirks. “And we don’t take kindly to freaks. He begged us not to do it, but people enjoyed the show.”
“You sick bastard.” I hiss, leaping forward, not sure what my next action will be. He easily blocks my attack, hitting the sword out of my hands. I step back.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.” He gives me a smile, as I stand there, weaponless. But not afraid.
Until someone drags me towards them and a wave of energy blasts that man to the ground. Soon, I am let go off, and Geralt steps in front, stabbing the solider, ending his pitiful life. I stare at the body, as witcher angrily approaches me.
“Are you out of your mind?” I don’t take eyes off the body, as the blood starts to pool under him.
I push past Geralt again, going to skelligan man, ripping his necklace right off his neck. I stare at it, before I turn around and hold it up. I notice Jaskier is here too, looking really out of breath. Both men stare at the ears on a string, as my hand shakes.
“I’m the one out of my mind, sure.” I say, dropping the necklace to their feet.
“I know your people are being treated unfairly, but…” I cut Geralt off before he can get another word in.
“Unfairly?! Witchers are being treated unfairly. My people are killed. Humiliated. Murdered for entertainment.” I raise my voice, as Jaskier throws his hands in the air, jumping between me and Geralt.
“What my friend meant, is that, we understand how suppressed elves are here in Novigrad. How dangerous it is to be anything but a human nowadays. It’s horrible. But foolish moves can lead to death.” I stare at the bards blue eyes as he offers me a smile. “Enough eleven blood has been spilt on these streets, and I think you’d agree with that.”
“Leave it to the professionals.” Geralt jumps in, as I take my gaze to him. His sword is still in his hand, ready to attack. “I fight monsters. And I know better then most that sometimes the monsters are the men themselves.”
“I couldn’t let him get away.” I argue, but I understand what they’re saying. “Thank you for saving me.”
“I told him to do it.” Jaskier proudly claims, puffing up his chest just a little. I look at Geralt again.
“I don’t have much coin, but I can scramble something. As a pay for your troubles.” The witcher shakes his head.
“Keep the coin. We aren’t out of the trouble yet, though.” I see him glance over his shoulder, and I remember that witchers have heightened senses. “The solider will soon be here.”
“Well why didn’t you say it sooner?” Jaskier gasps, annoyance growing in his voice. “Let’s go!”
I follow them out, as Geralt now sheathes his sword. I pull my hood up, just in case, as we slip past the crowds. Just in time, as I hear soldiers running down the street. I take the lead now, as I know Novigrad better than the palm of my hand. We dip through the streets, as I lead them outside the town. We cross the bridge with no trouble, even if Geralt has blood on his armour.
Nobody bothers us for once in my life.
I stop by my hut, as I hear crying come from another one. I know who’s home it is, another elf, an older woman. Had a son, young teenage boy. My heart sinks as I realize who the victim was. I turn to Geralt and Jaskier.
“It was her son.” I explain the weeping, as Geralt grunts at my words. Not an angry grunt, however. A sad one. “Tomas was a good boy. He worked by the docs, earning whatever he could for his family.”
“I’m sorry.” Jaskeir says, landing his hand on my shoulder. I look away, taking a deep breath.
“At least you avenged him.” I say, trying to find hope in those words.
“Revenge doesn’t lead to happiness.” I nod at Geralt’s words. I know he’s right.
“I know that. But it’s better than nothing.” I look at him, offering the witcher a sad smile. I slide my hood off again. “At least he wont be turned into a false tale of how those brave Skellige men slayed an elven warrior or something. He may rest easy now.”
“With time, so will his mother.” I scoff, turning my head to the home. The weeps seem to be growing louder.
“Sheila will not find rest without her boy by her side.” I disagree with Geralt this time.
“A loss takes a great deal out of you, but I believe you know, there is rest even after the darkest of times.” I look at Jaskier, surprised. I now realize why this bard is growing in popularity. A poet is good at with his words.
“Either way.” I clear my throat, not ready to get emotional. “If you need any help with whatever you’re doing here in Novigrad – know where to find me. Even if all you need is a warm meal and roof above your head. I am here.”
“Thank you.” They say in unison. I smile, for the first time today.
“You’re not a monster people say you are, Geralt.” I point out, as he smiles at me. “Not that I believed those tales anyway.”
“You’re far kinder than most men too…” He stops, frowning.
“Y/N.” I introduce myself.
“Well, Y/N, you are kind and you have fire within you. Keep it.” Geralt pats my head. “We have important matters to attend to, but we will be sure to drop by.”
“I will not pass your offer for a warm meal, Y/N!” Jaskier says, waving at me as the men turn back to go to Novigrad.
With that, Jaskier’s words settle in my mind as the weeps also silence. There is rest for us all. No matter how restless we may be now.
literally most of my sociology courses in school expect at minimum 2 page papers every week and normally i can bang them out in like an hour during the school year but?? doing this 2 page final essay for my study abroad program is taking me five years
Hey, you remember that time you started commenting on my weird crossover fic about Rose Tyler and Sherlock Holmes and then we started talking on gchat like ALL THE TIME and then I decided to get a Tumblr and you were basically the first person I followed 'cause I love you forever? Yeah, me either.
back when i tried not to go all fangirl on you. not a clue what you’re talking about.
riddle me this: how did you find my blog/what made you want to follow?
