#dark lunch

“It is so old they say you can taste the stars.” The vampire makes a circling motion with his bony fingers, before choosing a bottle and putting it on the set table. Opposite of Geralt sits Jaskier, his back rigid and his eyes glued to the table.

The vampire takes out two perfectly folded napkin in the shape of a swan from the crystal glasses in front of them. He opens the cork, sniffs it and gives a delighted sigh.

“I’m so glad you both could join me for this-“ the vampire waves his hands around again, searching for a word that suits him. “-dark lunch, if you will.”

The liquid he pours into the bottle is nothing like Geralt have ever seen before. It’s black, but when it sits there in the glass, he sees that is not entirely true. Somehow the drink appears to be cold, bordering on freezing as dewdrops freezes over to rim frost on the glass. When he looks into it, leaning forward just an inch, it is indeed like looking at a night sky. Down at a night sky. There swirls pink, blue purple in the darkness, speckled with small lights.

”Don’t drink it Jaskier.” Geralt warns him quietly, and the vampire gives a happy, tinkling sound of a laugh.

“Don’t drink it, bardling.” He says, mock cheer in his voice. “All I’m offering is a taste of midnight water, a taste of the night sky. A poet as yourself sure can see the benefit in that?”

The vampire walks around the table, circling them both and putting his hands in their chairs as he pass.

“Don’t.” Geralt repeats, increasingly worried.

“Tell me Witcher. Why do you think I invited you to sit down with me tonight, on this special occasion, instead of just tearing you into teeny tiny pieces?”

“Invited.” Jaskier mutters under his breath and if Geralt could kick him under the table he would.

“Yes, invited.” The vampire continues undeterred. “Manners are very important in this day and age.”

Geralt could make a comment on how body control spells are indeed very polite, but it would not change their situation.

“Eternity gets lonely after a while, you know.” The vampire stands behind a empty chair and leans on his hands over it, towards them.

“You if anyone must know this, Witcher, outliving your loved ones with decades, at least!”

Jaskiers eyes meet his, and Geralt does not like the look in them. They have had this conversation before. It is not on the table.

Well. It seems to be now.

“I offer a bargain, Witcher. Eternity with your bard for a... small favor.”

“No.” Geralt says immediately, but the vampire only gives a smirk. All his teeth, his fangs showing.

“Yes, Witcher. You will listen to what I have to say, or the bardlings journey ends tonight.”

When neither of them make further protests, he nods approvingly.

“Good! Thank you. Now, before you is a marvelous piece of magic, as I’m sure you already have figured out. A piece of eternity. All I ask in exchange is company.”

“No.” Geralt says again, but Jaskier speaks over him.

“What kind of company are we talking?”

“Now that is a man of my taste!” The vampire exclaims, clapping his hands together. Very flamboyant this one, almost worse than Jaskier himself.

“Sorry, vampire joke. Sometimes I can’t just seem to help myself.”

“All I ask is for a century of your time, spent here with me. This castle is big, and there is only so much I can take of the emptiness.”

“And if we don’t take the bargain?” Geralt asks, knowing the answer already.

Betrayal two: electric boogaloo

ah ro: the meal between dinner and breakfast...