dragonlady7

the witcher, witcher 2

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Listen last week was nuts and then I was hung up on needing a little bit of Hen Llinge for this chapter and we don’t need to discuss how many days it took me to finally just fucking ask for help on that but anyway

CHAPTER FOUR of Under The Table, ON AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/35008744/chapters/88302040

it’s a long chapter, to kind of make up for the delay and also because i’ll be fucked if i could figure out where to split it. the only pause is directly in the middle and then the two halves are too short. so. enjoy 7800 words, which mostly seems very fluffy until there’s some good old-fashioned ultra-violence.

The snowball fight is even thematically-relevant, as it’s just pissing down snow out there at the moment, ha.

two excerpts for you:

1) “Victory,” Iorveth crowed, and Anäis leapt up and down in triumph. “Victory, another crushing defeat for Vernon Roche!”

“No fair,” Roche said, “why am I all on my own?”

The elf’s thighs, thick and powerful in quilted trousers, bracketed his chest; Iorveth was always larger and heavier than Roche remembered. And of course, quite good at wrestling. He had Roche’s arms pinned under his knees. How had he managed that?

“You need to secure your allies before you dive in,” Iorveth said, delighted. This was the sort of thing he would normally say with a sneer, but he was clearly having too much fun to bother being supercilious. He was flushed and slightly out of breath, and his weight was poised such that while Roche could possibly lever his legs against the ground, he wouldn’t be able to unseat Iorveth easily enough for it to matter.

“Avenge me, Anäis,” Roche cried weakly. Anäis looked down at him, and her expression slid into sly delight. Roche schooled his features into a scowl up at Iorveth, and in a moment Anäis leapt up with a handful of snow and stuffed it down the back of Iorveth’s coat.

2) “Hey, I’ve got a question,” Ves said. She pointed, ill-mannered, at Faengil. “If you lot age so slowly, when do you stop growing?”

“Oh,” Iorveth said, “we don’t. We get very slowly larger, endlessly. It slows down year by year, to the point that it’s nearly imperceptible, but. That’s why I’m so tall. In another hundred years I’ll be fully seven feet tall.”

“Bullshit,” Ves said, but it was clear she didn’t know for sure whether he were lying. (Your picture was not posted)