dragonlady7

LOL, the Witcher

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bardic-charm https://bardic-charm.tumblr.com/post/627281038664679424/his-wicked-witcher :

greyduckgreygoose https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/post/627274542261420032/his-wicked-witcher :

The cover of the book depicted a barrel-chested Witcher, wearing a cloak and apparently nothing else, locking lips with a half-naked, swooning Bard who was noticeably shorter and slighter.

“The sauciest romantic thriller since The Curse of Baron Wolfstein and Other Love Stories!” the first page boasted, “Ye Olde Oxenfurt Press gives it 4/5 stars!”

Jaskier scowled, “It’s bad enough that we’re having novels written about us, but did they have to make me blonde?”

“This might not have anything to do with us,” Geralt said gruffly, an edge of desperation in his voice as the points and whispers began among the crowd in the marketplace.

“‘Please,’ the Witcher begged the all-powerful sorceress, ‘Just save him. I’ll pay you … whatever the price.’” Jaskier flipped to another, random, page, “'We could head to the coast, you and I,’ the Bard whispered, his heart beating hard in his narrow chest.’ Rude. ‘The Witcher looked as cold and distant as the mountains in the distance. What the Bard wanted to say was, I’ve worked out what pleases me … it’s you.’” Jaskier cleared his throat abruptly. “Need I go on?”

“No,” Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“This explains a lot, doesn’t it?” Jaskier said. “The looks, the stares … moreso than usual anyway.”

“Hmm.”

“Those free drinks at the inn from … fans. I thought they were fans of my music!”

“You said they asked you about the size of my prick.”

“I thought they were referencing the song I wrote about Witcher pricks!” Jaskier added hurriedly, “A very flattering song, indeed.”

Geralt closed his eyes with a pained expression. “The letter from Vesemir that ended by warning me that Eskel and Lambert know … I thought he was talking about the Child Surprise.”

“Maybe we could winter somewhere else this year? A cave, perhaps?”

“Who wrote this shit?” Geralt demanded, snatching the book from Jaskier’s hand.

“…the gentle lady who burst into tears right before we were about to head to bed and begged me not to cheat on my love - I just thought she was talking about-” Jaskier paused. “Well, there could have been any number of women she was talking about.”

A low growl came from Geralt’s direction. Right on the cover, emblazoned proudly in even larger wording than the title, was the name Yennefer of Venderberg.

–

“I have debts.” Yennefer said, and closed the portal on them.

–

“What’re you doing?” Jaskier asked, finding Geralt sitting at the base of a tree, staring out over the wildflower-dotted valley.

“Looking for warm caves for the winter,” Geralt said.

Jaskier laughed, sliding down to sit by Geralt, their knees bumping briefly, warmly.

“I’ve been reading it, you know,” Jaskier said, “Writing’s not bad … for a witch.” He made a face. “The bedding involves a lot of leather.”

“What did you mean?” Geralt asked quietly, so quietly Jaskier didn’t know if he was directing towards the horizon. “When you asked me to go the coast?“

“Didn’t you know?” Jaskier felt his heart beating, and his brain offered, narrow chest.

“I wasn’t really listening then,” Geralt said, looking down, then meeting Jaskier’s eyes. “Tell me again.”

And Jaskier did.

I love this to bits ahhh 💙💙💙