fic update: little fishie
Mar. 22nd, 2020 03:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via https://ift.tt/2Uwr6kw
This is still not the end, but. I was inspired– someone messaged me on Tumblr, and asked to remain anonymous, but told me that in gratitude for the solace they’d taken in reading fic on AO3 during the last few weeks they’ve been stuck in isolation, they’d made a donation to their local food bank. And I thought, heck, I need to acknowledge that! So, it got me to really focus on working on this chapter, and when I realized it was getting too long to wrap up, to figure out how to split it.
So, this is the first half, ish, of the resolution, and it’s got none of the fun excerpts I’ve been teasing with, but it contains some great character moments and the presence of an entire beloved character I have not yet let on about in this whole story, so– I promise it’s good and worth it.
And I’d like to encourage you– if you’re secure, try to help someone who isn’t, with money or goods donations or whatever, and if you’re not, try to write to your reps or something. And if you’re in danger, working an ‘essential’ job or imprisoned by capitalism, I love you and I’m sorry and tell the rest of us how we can help. We can make a better world, or can hope for one at least, or even just pay attention to what’s happening so we know what to get mad about when there’s time for it. Anyway, that was incoherent, but heartfelt, cut me some slack LOL.
(Heck, one way you could help is by researching one of the many issues currently besetting us and making a more coherent post with links to ways to help and such. I am… currently not up to it.) (if you are not up to it either I understand. this is hard. this is hard for everybody.)
So here’s chapter 6: Swallow, thanks to an anonymous benefactor.
Jaskier set the cup down and slouched as he sat. “So,” he said, “you’re an asshole.”
“Mm,” Geralt agreed. “Why, now, though?”
“They dropped you off when I was mostly delirious,” Jaskier said, “so I’m not sure, but there was all this to-do where you’d apparently told the cavalry captain some answer to some riddle for me, but he wasn’t allowed to tell me until I survived this plague? So there’s been all kinds of shenanigans with him writing it down and giving it to the healer, and she’s all smug about this, and it’s a whole thing. What possible riddle could you be answering, and why of all things is that what you told them before collapsing, nigh unto death?”
“Oh,” Geralt said. It was all rather hazy, but he did remember the conversation that must have preceded that. “Oh, yes, I was. I was dying. And they wanted to know. If there was anything. I needed to tell. Anybody.” Breathing was still really hard. “Mm, talking is hard.”
“No,” Jaskier said, “you’re not weaseling out of this!”
“Have you ever,” Geralt said slowly, a bit vaguely, “tasted the inside, of your own lung?” He tipped his head back to get a better angle for his airway so he could breathe with a little less resistance. “‘Sgross.”
This is still not the end, but. I was inspired– someone messaged me on Tumblr, and asked to remain anonymous, but told me that in gratitude for the solace they’d taken in reading fic on AO3 during the last few weeks they’ve been stuck in isolation, they’d made a donation to their local food bank. And I thought, heck, I need to acknowledge that! So, it got me to really focus on working on this chapter, and when I realized it was getting too long to wrap up, to figure out how to split it.
So, this is the first half, ish, of the resolution, and it’s got none of the fun excerpts I’ve been teasing with, but it contains some great character moments and the presence of an entire beloved character I have not yet let on about in this whole story, so– I promise it’s good and worth it.
And I’d like to encourage you– if you’re secure, try to help someone who isn’t, with money or goods donations or whatever, and if you’re not, try to write to your reps or something. And if you’re in danger, working an ‘essential’ job or imprisoned by capitalism, I love you and I’m sorry and tell the rest of us how we can help. We can make a better world, or can hope for one at least, or even just pay attention to what’s happening so we know what to get mad about when there’s time for it. Anyway, that was incoherent, but heartfelt, cut me some slack LOL.
(Heck, one way you could help is by researching one of the many issues currently besetting us and making a more coherent post with links to ways to help and such. I am… currently not up to it.) (if you are not up to it either I understand. this is hard. this is hard for everybody.)
So here’s chapter 6: Swallow, thanks to an anonymous benefactor.
Jaskier set the cup down and slouched as he sat. “So,” he said, “you’re an asshole.”
“Mm,” Geralt agreed. “Why, now, though?”
“They dropped you off when I was mostly delirious,” Jaskier said, “so I’m not sure, but there was all this to-do where you’d apparently told the cavalry captain some answer to some riddle for me, but he wasn’t allowed to tell me until I survived this plague? So there’s been all kinds of shenanigans with him writing it down and giving it to the healer, and she’s all smug about this, and it’s a whole thing. What possible riddle could you be answering, and why of all things is that what you told them before collapsing, nigh unto death?”
“Oh,” Geralt said. It was all rather hazy, but he did remember the conversation that must have preceded that. “Oh, yes, I was. I was dying. And they wanted to know. If there was anything. I needed to tell. Anybody.” Breathing was still really hard. “Mm, talking is hard.”
“No,” Jaskier said, “you’re not weaseling out of this!”
“Have you ever,” Geralt said slowly, a bit vaguely, “tasted the inside, of your own lung?” He tipped his head back to get a better angle for his airway so he could breathe with a little less resistance. “‘Sgross.”
