fic update!

[dragonlady7]

via https://ift.tt/uYGnmdf

yeah i took today off work, and then finished this chapter before 9am, with the sun rising directly into my eyeballs. i realy needed to see the sky for a minute. just a minute!

anyway i’ve been editing it and my darling betas have poked it so hopefully it is worth the wait. i was really gonna update twice this week, really i was. but. this took forever. it’s a bit long and there’s a sex scene but i figured we all deserve that.

(We did it, guys. We survived February.)

Chapter 3 of Lion, Sable, Passant, on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/36878308/chapters/93634246, completing this work and I promise the next one is where shit really starts lining up. This one has the bit from chapter 6 of Fit For Pearls though, this is just Roche’s POV of it.

This was the design his aunt Nottie had made him get tattooed on before he’d gone off to war. He pondered the carved stone grimly for a bit. It was quite old, undoubtedly. The stone was cracked and damaged, and moss had grown thickly around the base. Locals had set up little offerings around it, oddly-shaped stones and bits of candle ends and little talismans carved from wood or wound from wool. Sticks with carved little notches seemed to be popular.

Geralt noticed where he’d gone, and followed him over after a few moments. He slid a look at Roche. “Is this–”

“Yeah,” Roche said, “it’s–”

“It’s on your arse,” Ves said cheerfully, “don’t think I haven’t seen it. But that’s dead common, Silas had it too.”

“Velen boys,” Roche said, a bit wistfully. “All the Velen aunties insist on it. Meant to be protective.” He looked at Geralt. “Do you know what it means?”

Geralt looked thoughtful. “Think it’s Elvish,” he said. “See it carved into very old trees sometimes. Usually near roads.” He tilted his head. “Think this one’s sideways. Yeah– the pillar broke. That’s recent, ish.” He gestured. “During my lifetime, somebody broke it. I remember how it looked before. See? There. This is just the top half. Came off there, landed here.”

“So it’s sideways,” Roche said, heart sinking a bit. He’d sort of hoped Iorveth was just fucking with him.

“Yeah,” Geralt said. He picked up a stick, and drew it in the dirt. “Usually looks like this, on trees.” And he drew it, rotated about ninety degrees.

Roche nodded. “So it– think it was maybe related to the roadway, here? This is an old road.”

“Yeah,” Geralt said. “Some kind of road sign. Distance marker maybe? Other places I’ve seen it, it’s less clear, but they’re usually beside old trackways at least. Places people go, not wilderness.”

“Hmm,” Roche said.

“Does your ass say twelve miles to Gors Velen on it?” Ves said, delighted.

“Gors Velen’s only three, that way,” Roche said absently, then laughed. “If it does it’s far from the worst thing carved on me.”

Ves nodded. “The dick,” she said.

“You knew about that?” Roche demanded, disgusted, then turned on his heel and went and got back onto his horse, not waiting for an answer. Ves’s laughter was answer enough; they really didn’t need to get into it further. (Your picture was not posted)