The Best is Yet to Come

                opening that door was a gamble on life and death. there was always the possibility of opening it to something unsightly, something horrifying, or something strange; which is exactly why the bard peeked through the crack in the door before committing to passing through. 

             ❝ —how safe would you say it would be for me to open the door fully... or should i just— stay out here for a little while. ❞ 

               ❝ pretty standard fair, i’d say. ❞ the list before him stretches out with bounties, guard watches, the occasional search and rescue type contract, but nothing out of the ordinary. while book-keeping had yet to be a designated position, the bard took it upon himself to stand in as the middleman. sifting through worthy pleas for assistance was more along the lines of self-employment. 

                   however, one particular case stood out amongst the rest. ❝ —what say you to this one, geralt: searching for one of able body to uncover secrets of an absent husband. nothing of note from dawn until sundown but scars surface between sundown and dusk. hefty coin for information or solution. ❞ he glances up from the scribblings. ❝ mystery and intrigue, eh ? ❞

            getting a drink was easy. enjoying the fresh sting of a hearty ale or a mead left sitting for exactly a fortnight was also far too easy to handle. enjoying a drink with bated breath at the affairs of fellow tavern-goers that had gotten a bit too rowdy for the confines of the establishment wasn’t so. 

             once more, heavy fists collide with the tabletop, shaking the dirtied platters and threatening to knock over his tankard. he dives quickly for his drink as a nearby patron is just about tossed across the room, hitting the table with such a force that he’s flipped up and over, missing the bard by a hair. with wide eyes, he turned from the body now lying at his back to the tightened fist that that had cracked through the heated conversation by introducing fisticuffs. 

             were this his own establishment, strict punishment would have been dealt to all involved in creating such a spectacle, but he lifts his drink to his mouth, filling his cheeks and downing it in two to three decent gulps. 

under the cut for obvious reasons 

“Something tells me you’ll tag along anyway.” And Geralt doesn’t wish to argue with him. “It’s your funeral, Jaskier.” Will he let him die? Absolutely not. Does Jaskier know he’s just saying that? That has yet to be seen.

Chimeras are no easy foe. They are dangerous and not something to be taken lightly. If he’s going to hunt this beast with Jaskier around, Jaskier needs to do exactly what he says. “I mean it, Jaskier. Don’t get in my way, don’t even breath the wrong way.” This isn’t the small game Jaskier is used to him hunting, this is something far more dangerous. 

Once Jaskier is safely seated upon the horse, Geralt gives a click of his tongue, boot gently kicking against Roach’s side and the horse takes off at a faster speed, in the direction of the Chimera’s layer.

          ❝ who’s said anything about dying ? believe it or not, i’m actually quite resilient. i can get my heart broken a million different ways and shrug it all without anything less than the pleasant memories. i have had my belongings smashed, torn, burned, and i’ve been smacked, choked, punched, kicked— hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, geralt. ❞ implying that yes, he might have been the one doing the betraying, or so they would like to believe to rid themselves of him. 

             however, the difference between an enraged lover and a chimera was that while one was vicious and deadly, the other was a chimera. ❝ —but, if keeping a safe distance would put your fragile witcher heart at ease then so be it. i will honor your wishes. ❞ 

It was instinct to take him at his word, but the bard himself had been teaching her something about skepticism. Her eyes narrowed just a fraction as she took in the sight of his physicality. shifting and even avoiding. “H-hey!” she called, realizing her item of interest was suddenly almost out of her sight. The druid stood and followed down the corridor of Whitestone Castle after him. “You would not be running away if you didn’t! You still like her.” She pointed a finger accusatorily. It was even more interesting given his reaction. “Now, be honest!”

Vex didn’t make much noise when she moved– very little– enough to make even a gnome unprepared. “I’ve been here for the last five minutes,” she offered with a wry smile as she used a dagger to take the skin off of an apple in her hand. Never trust fruit – especially when you got it from an old woman’s stash. “Trinket, treats,” she said with a suddenly saccarine cadence to her voice as she offered the bear half of the apple– the other she bit into… “You were holding him like he was a girl from one of your lady houses.” 

Sitting   far   away   from   what   she   assumed   was   his   stage,   the   Empress   let   lids   fall   shut   to   enjoy   the   music.   It   perhaps   wasn’t   the   place   nor   the   moment   to   indulge   into   the   song   of   a   murdered,   but   at   the   same   time   she   didn’t   have   better   things   to   do.   All   in   her   schedule   meant   stress      &      unnecessary   pain   she   refused   to   carry   on   her   back,   so   instead   of   behaving   like   a   responsible   princess   she   let   her   mind   drift   toward   the   alluring   notes   played   by   a   threatening   being.   That   was   perhaps   the   price   she   had   to   pay   for   some   peace,   a   rather   hard   cost   if   he   happened   to   use   it   against   her   at   any   point.      ❝      Can   you   entertain   me   with   something   less   depressing   or   you   haven’t   killed   enough   people   yet      ?      ❞

as much as the desire to chastise and speak freely his distaste in being watched during the final dress rehearsal, he eases back on the stool, fingers remaining in their playing position for only a moment more. while he wants to continue, the performance has already been ruined. ❝ if that is how you think music comes to me then i’m sorry to disappoint. ❞ 

                In reality, Pike knows Percy wouldn’t really have a problem with the whole thing. At the end of the day what mattered was that they all got to see Vax again, that Vex got to see her brother one last time and say goodbye without any sense of urgency, without the Raven Queen rushing for things to get done. It might have taken time, but it was worth it. And on top of all that, they’d just fought and killed Sylas Briarwood for the very last time– there was nobody putting baby Vesper in danger anymore, no looming threat at the party. Who cares if the bride had to walk into the aisle with a dinosaur?

“Well, he needs to find you first,” she shrugs, waiting for a second before smiling at him mischievously, “I’m not telling him you’re going to be in my room, are you? And… if he finds out, I guess I could give him the look, I’m no Vex but I’ve been known to stop a certain barbarian with it, I’m sure I can handle Percy.”

With a chuckle, Pike tries awkwardly to sway around like the rest of the people in the dance floor, staring at her feet so she wouldn’t step on him. “Wait, really? Have we finally found the single thing in this world Scanlan Shorthalt is not confident about?” She looks up, teasing grin extending across her features, feet following his steps, “I would’ve thought you’d know how to slow dance, with all the music in your life and women you liked to woo.” Yeah, maybe their hands are in the wrong place, opposite to every other couple of men and women around them, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Not if they’re both figuring it out rather than her making a fool of herself.

             looking at it from her perspective, it was almost as if both his decisions tonight ultimately crossed one another out. of course, percy would have the final say on whether or not those decisions were for better or for worse, but for now, there was only merriment to be had. two friends, their family in a way, had come together to share in their vows of love. what was a dinosaur and a wish going to do to ruin or inspire the event as a whole ? if sylas hadn’t ruined things, then scanlan certainly hadn’t either. ❝ you’re right. i’ve seen that look at least once in my life and i never wish to see it again. our secrets are safe. ❞ the evening would be spared of at least one de rolo.