#witcherblooded

Geralt’s harsh words didn’t phase him. It was imminently expected, really, for him to lash out like that. His eyes close for a moment, just a moment, before he steps closer. He’s intensely aware of the physical difference between them. While Gideon might be the taller man, Geralt was far stronger and more martially capable. Still, didn’t stop him from putting a hand on the other man’s chest.

   ❝ I’m beginning to believe you detest me! ❞

   He throws his arms wide, motioning to all of himself, as he continues watch Geralt from the safety of the ground. A shortcut he had called it, a faster way Jaskier, and granted he was very sure that for a Witcher this was the fastest way to get to town. And while they were being hunted by that big, scary, furry thing faster was by all means better. However, Jaskier didn’t want to die using the faster route no matter how much time it might take from their travels. And dying was absolutely what was going to happen if they climbed the mountain and took that narrow valley. 

   ❝ Are you perhaps short of a marble Geralt? Me? ❞   He points to himself dramatically, all fluid but very much graceless.   ❝ HUMAN. ❞   His hands drop to his side, Roach huffing from where she was grazing behind the Witcher. How he intended to get the horse through there had yet to be factored in Jaskier brain. All he saw was hills, narrow, death considering they would be walking across a valley. No Valley of Plenty down there just death and splattered bard guts from where he would slip and die. 

It’s not until after they face the so-called Devil of Posada - a few days into knowing one another - that he makes a move. It’s not that he’s hesitant - he knows what people expect when they invite him along and he’s more than fine with it - but only that he’s confused because Geralt has made no move toward him. 

Perhaps the Witcher was being understanding, he did, after all, save Dandelion from being castrated and tarred and feathered. But to wait so long? Dandelion can’t figure his reasoning on that. 

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊  𝐎𝐅  𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍  𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒  𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒  ,  a  brow  quirks  before  the  typical  full  lipped  smile  that  belongs  to  her  finds  itself  within  her  cheeks  .  ❛    is  that  so  ---- ❜  she  murmurs  ,  one  fingernail  trailing  along  the  ridges  of  his  clothing  .  the  cheeky  kind  of  look  that  teases  violet  eyes  is  far  from  subtle  (  most  things  with  yennefer  are  not  )  and  she  closes  more  distance  between  them  ,  leaning  upon  the  tips  of  her  toes  so  that  she  can  better  reach  the  curve  of  his  ear  in  order  to  whisper  in  a  most  sultry  trained  tone  ,  ❛    what  a  boring  book  that’ll  be  ,  geralt  .  your  bard  sings  an  obnoxiously  more  sordid  tale  .  you  hum  it  in  your  sleep      ❜

                ❝ —and how upset would you be if i were to tell you that you were not that far with any of those. ❞ explaining it was something else entirely. while yes, another man’s wife was involved, but he hadn’t slept with her. in fact, he was in the process of letting her down as politely as possible. his plan, originally, had been to sing her a final goodbye before skipping town altogether. it would get her off of his conscious and put a bit of distance between himself and whatever punishment awaited him from the mister. 

Deathless Starters || ALWAYS accepting

Then you should feel quite at home here, she thought, bitterness hidden behind her painted lips, curved up in a soft, almost sultry smile under her veil. She reached out without asking, ran a hand down his arm and brushed her fingers over his. Feeling the callouses from decade of fighting, the small scars and imperfections. Doubtful his hands had ever been soft, doubtful he cared about hers. When one saw enough faces in their lifetime, it was hard to care about any of them, especially when one just wanted to be left alone.

Did he have a choice in what became of him? Or was she simply hoping to find similarities again, in places she had no right to look. A cynical part of her wondered dryly if he even knew how to read.