#renfri lives

[daisyannewinchester]

@exhausted-snek drew me some beautiful art that should be appreciated by all. I wrote her a fic in response to her blessed assault on my heart. I already posted the AO3 link but I want to post it on Tumblr myself so I can include the photo cuz I can’t figure out how to do it on AO3. My fic is below the cut. Enjoy!

“Geralt, slow down.”

“Geralt we have to stop.”

“Gerrrraaaalllllt.”

Geralt huffed and turned around to glare at Jaskier behind him who had stopped in the middle of the road.

“Why?”

“Because Geralt. Flowers.” Jaskier spread his hands out to indicate the field surrounding them on either side of the road, full to bursting with weeds and spring flowers.

“You heard the man. Flowers.” Renfri said, taking Roaches reigns from Geralt and guiding the horse off the road into a patch of lush grass. Roach immediately went for the grass, tail swishing as she ate. Geralt grumbled to himself but followed, his protests about reaching the inn before dark falling on stubborn ears. Renfri smirked at him from her spot on a downed tree and gestured him over to her. He sat with a huff, digging his elbow into her side. Her smirk transformed to a smile and she poked him, encouraging a shoulder nudge that would have sent her toppling if it weren’t for the hands on her shoulders.

“Stop it, I’m trying to measure.” Came Jaskier’s irritated voice from behind them. Renfri felt something tickling at her ear and grabbed at it, tossing what turned out to be a long vine away from her.

“Hey! I was using that!” Jaskier hurried to pick it up again, coming into view, his arms laden with flowers and long stems of grass. Renfri raised a curious eyebrow as Jaskier sat himself in front of her on the grass, laying out the flowers and vines he had picked. Geralt leaned back against the fallen trunk and, clasping his hands behind his head, closed his eyes and tilted his face into the weak rays of the sun, seeming content to rest until Jaskier was ready to leave.

Renfri watched as Jaskier picked up a daisy and weaved grass around the stem, adding small flowers and leaves into the weave as he worked. “Here,” He said and held out a fist full of sunflowers. Her favorite flower. She took them and held them in her hands. They felt small and fragile in her calloused hands, not meant for something as tough as she. Jaskier handed her a vine and slowed his movements, letting her watch what he was doing as he taught her. Renfri was reluctant at first, but eventually held a beautiful crown in her hands, a row of bright helianthus side by side, woven together with vines and grass. She hands it to Jaskier and he beams, clad in his own flower crown of daisies and babies breath, before placing it on her head.

Renfri was not a feminine woman. She wore trousers and boots, not typical of a woman. Her hair was short and so was her temper. She carried a sword and dagger with her, she drank ale and beer. Not the typical choice of alcohol for a woman. She fought and stole and swore and slouched. Certainly frowned upon for an princess.

She wore this delicate, dainty flower crown and felt more like a woman than she had in a while. Certainly more like a princess- but not in a bad way. When she drew her sword and peered at her reflection in the flat of her blade, it was still Renfri staring back at her, ex-thief and monster slayer and princess.

She turned to Jaskier and he laughed, delighted. “Stunning!”

She had to agree.

She looked good in a crown.

[b-witchered]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“For you!” Julian cried, shoving a fistful of weeds in Renfri’s direction, his smile wide and carefree.

Renfri carefully took them in her hands that were only shaking a little bit now, smearing red onto green stems and yellow petals.

Julian clambered into the bed beside her and crawled halfway onto her lap. “I got you flowers, ‘cause you’re so pretty like them!”

“These aren’t flowers, they’re weeds.” Renfri told him, rolling her eyes but allowing the contact with ease. Somedays it seemed like Julian was the only person in the entire castle who wasn’t afraid of her.

“They look like flowers.” He said, crinkling his nose.

“They’re dandelions,” Renfri informed her brother with a tiny smile, “They grow everywhere, even places they perhaps shouldn’t. That’s why they’re a weed.”

Julian looked doubtful.

Renfri laughed, leaning forward to place a kiss on Julian’s forehead, “Perhaps they’re a little like you,” She teased gently, “Growing in even the scariest of place with no fear.” Like a monster’s heart, she doesn’t say.

“Like a superpower!” Julian gasped, wide-eyed even as he scrubbed a sleeve over where she’d placed a kiss.

“Like a superpower.” Renfri agreed, separating one dandelion from the little clutch and reaching out to tuck it behind a little ear. “For the stubborn hero, Jaskier.”

___

Renfri was born under a black sun. Jaskier was born six years later under a red moon. Their lives have not been easy, but they are theirs. 

Jaskier’s magic, Renfri’s score to settle, and a very confused Witcher make for an interesting tale. Maybe Jaskier can write a ballad about it?

[xperiwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Renfri | Shrike (The Witcher), Original Characters Additional Tags: I'm going to be honest with you guys, this isn't good, Alternate Universe, Timeline Shenanigans, Creature Jaskier, Creature Ciri, Good Renfri, The power of friendship, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Music, I just wanted to get back on the fanfic horse, children welcome to my trash fire, Crack, no beta we die like men, No Lesbians Die Summary:

The cuckoo is a fine bird he sings as he flies, He brings us good tidings and tells us no lies. He sucks the sweet flowers to make his voice clear, And the more he cries cuckoo, the summer is nigh.

Jaskier keeps secrets and then he keeps Singing. (And then he keeps watch over Ciri.)