#trustinginthelight

 @trustinginthelight​  said  :  Of  course  Jaskier  is  lured  in  by  the  sound.  It's  a  beautiful  vocalise,  difficult  for  most  to  ignore.  Why  it  was  coming  from  so  far  onto  land,  though,  was  confusing.  What  was  a  siren  doing  here?  Wherever  they  were,  though,  Jaskier  was  clearly  leading  Geralt  straight  to  them.  As  Jaskier  finally  approached,  the  source  of  the  siren  call  sat  relatively  unbothered.  A  white-blonde  haired  young  woman  sat  on  a  branch  of  tree,  dressed  in  expensive  looking  clothing.

 geralt  couldn’t  say  he  was  surprised  in  the  slightest  by  jaskier’s  behaviour  .  he  could  hear  it  too  .  in  fact  ,  he’d  clearly  heard  it  much  earlier  than  jaskier  ,  given  by  the  way  they  had  managed  to  stay  their  course  for  several  good  minutes  before  jaskier  had  pulled  away  and  headed  off  .  the  witcher’s  complaints           only  possible  ,  he  assumed  ,  by  the  mutations  that  ran  through  him  and  rendered  the  siren  song  nearly  ineffective           hadn’t  done  much  good  .  the  bard  was  intent  on  going  towards  the  voice  ,  no  matter  what  the  consequences  ,  no  matter  how  muddied  and  difficult  the  terrain  was  .  roach  ,  too  ,  protested  as  geralt  was  forced  to  tug  her  around  the  trees  and  through  the  thicker  foliage  ,  but  she  came  anyways  .

 when  they  finally  arrived  ,  geralt  still  as  close  as  he  could  manage  to  stay  behind  jaskier  ,  he  spotted  the  young  woman  quite  quickly  .  her  appearance  ,  too  ,  he  wasn’t  surprised  about  .  she  looked  elegant  ,  very  much  the  picture  of  her  beautiful  voice  .  but  her  location  ?  that  was  something  to  question  .

              ❝          witcher    --------------    are you    INJURED    ??         ❞           it was a rather    ridiculous    question    .  .    but he did not wish to assume and anger the witcher that barely seemed to be in    THE MOOD.

Yennefer couldn’t even believe she was there. Hopefully, Jaskier wouldn’t even notice her presence. The Chameleon. She wondered how he was going to manage such a cabaret, but it was a thought she had decided to keep for herself. For now, the only thing that mattered to her was Ciri. Once the wild hunt would finally be gone, everything would be much simpler.

It was curiosity that had brought her around though, even if she would never admit such a thing to Jaskier. She wanted to hear Priscilla’s songs, since Geralt had told her she seemed to know a bit too much about them. All of this had happened because of Jaskier, of course.

                >> 🌻 <<                           ❝          WELL    .  .    when you were busy off elsewhere,   i kept the chameleon from falling into disarray.     though   .   .    there    is    one dead witch hunter in the supply room.         ❞          her admission comes out    QUIETER    than the rest of her words but that was to be expected with the bombshell dropped.

❝NOT A BAD IDEA actually, Carl. I could make this a watermelon-themed month and eat it until I can’t stand it; maybe I’ll bring some absurd dish with watermelon in it next time I stop by.❞

Thought was humorous but not something Elijah could pull off alone (at least not without turning into one); thus the idea was promptly pushed to the furthest part of his mind as a smirk lay across his lips. 

                  although her face is strict and calm, there is amusement dancing in these emerald green eyes that is reserved only to be witnessed by her granddaughter as she approaches the reckless child, gripping her wrist - much more tenderly than it would look to someone watching from afar. 

                  “ ah yes? and it has nothing to do with the fact you very clearly expressed you hated the dress, hm? it just happened all on its own. a complete accident. “ 

             NOT THAT SHE HAD any doubt before --- what with the way he dressed and how he carried that musical instrument around like it was his choice of weapon --- but if she did, then listening to the way he SPOKE was a clear indicator that he was definitely a bard. or, at least, a minstrel. sometimes lily still struggled with what was which. 

            ❝ it’d be no imposition, really. ❞ in fact, any type of work usually helped her FOCUS on anything that wasn’t the hell inside her head. still, if not work, a conversation would do just fin as well. before she answered him, lily sat down as well and sighed.  ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you, jaskier. i’m lillian cousland, but you may call me lily. ❞ he reminded her of someone, which caused her to be UNABLE to take her green eyes off of him.