#and there's a nation in the witcher called nilfgaard

[yellowspiralbound]

Since season 3 of The Witcher Netflix comes out tomorrow...here are some of my concerns on adaptation from this season onward. Potential spoilers for the future seasons and definite spoilers for the books. Long post ahead.

The Hansa's Dynamic

I am so worried about how the Hansa is going to be handled in the show. Like shaking in my boots terrified. The showrunners already really messed up Dandelion & Geralt's dynamic...and that's one of the easier dynamics present in the Hansa imo. The dynamic is already going to be screwy because Cahir is a middle aged man and not a petulant teenager if he's present in the Hansa at all (though I think he will be since Emhyr called him and Fringilla out at the end of s2).

Emhyr as a Character

Speaking of Emhyr...I think they might attempt to give him a redemption arc, and I cannot emphasize how bad of an idea that is. They're going to retcon the whole "wanting to impregnate Ciri" bit, which I have mixed feelings on. Like yes, on one hand that's fucking gross but on the other hand, that bit is in there to show how fucked up Emhyr is and why Geralt needs to get to Ciri so quickly; it adds a sense of urgency to the Hansa's travels. If I see Emhyr sympathizers on my dash after this season I will lose my fucking mind.

Milva's Pregnancy & Related Scenes

I suspect that Milva's pregnancy is going to be cut entirely or play up the rest of the Hansa's concern for her as a weird "men think they can control women's bodies" thing which Milva will have to fight with them about so the show can be appropriately pro-choice without exploring any of the pro-choice nuance the books bring up. I can just see Regis talking to the guys about it being turned into a "the father deserves a say in a woman's choice to abort" scenario instead of the "I will give this woman her abortion regardless of what you all think about that (and I've made that VERY clear) but I think she's making this choice because she believes you all will abandon her/not support her if she wants to keep this baby and someone needs to make sure that she knows that won't happen" scenario that it actually is. This is also plays into my concerns about the Hansa's dynamic as changing that scene changes it irreparably.

Characterizing Nilfgaard as a Nation

Right now I feel like the show could go one of two ways 1) Nilfgaard is wrong in everything it does or 2) Nilfgaard is right in everything it does (if Emhyr gets a redemption arc). The show has already made a show of the Northern Realms' racism, which is book accurate mind you, but I fear this will translate to a sort of "Nilfgaard is the better nation as its less racist" scenario. While Nilfgaard is better in that aspect and a few others, it is still a militant slave nation. Nilfgaard and the Northern Realms both have their evils and their virtues; that's a big point in the books and the games. Neither nation is 100% good or 100% bad - they're just nations. I don't think the show will be able to handle that kind of nuance.

Jaskier & Radovid...

Apparently, Radovid is supposed to be one of Jask's love interests this season. Radovid is a massive racist, a war criminal, and a teenager. I'm sure all of that's going to be retconned but for fuck's sake just make a new character if you're going to age up and completely change the personality and insanity of an existing one. Important note: I am 1000% in support of queer Jask. I have never shipped that man with a woman in my life (even in the books and games) but for the love of God why did his LI have to be fucking RADOVID??

Mistle & the Rats

If they make Ciri and Mistle a love story, I am going to be disappointed but not surprised. Let me be clear: Mistle is a rapist and an abuser. I suspect they will change that to shoehorn in a queer relationship (even though Triss and Philippa are RIGHT THERE if they want a semi-canon wlw couple). The Rats as a whole are definitely going to be made into more robinhood-like characters because God forbid a main character like Ciri is morally grey or does questionable/bad things.

Geralt's Disability

If this season ends with the Vilgefortz and Geralt fight, as I suspect it might, Geralt will be disabled permanently by the end of this season. The dryads do not fix it. Magic does not fix it. Geralt becomes disabled and stays disabled. His disability becomes a hindrance during the books and the reader actively sees him grapple with the fallout of this. I do not trust this show to handle that - especially with how much more closed off Geralt is in the show compared to the books. If I had to guess, Geralt's disability will be handwaved away or mentioned in passing and never actually shown to impact him which is not cool.

#the witcher #the witcher books #the witcher netflix #twn critical #books vs show #the hansa #milva barring #maria barring #regis #cahir #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #emiel regis #jaskier vs dandelion #jaskier #dandelion #geralt of rivia #cirilla fiona elen riannon #the witcher s3 #spiral's thoughts

[closedcoffins]

my favorite cahir hansa dynamic has to be his dynamic with dandelion because dandelion is the first to tease and pick on him but then immediately switches sides as soon as GERALT picks on him. dandelion remembers his "i am not a nilfgaardian" speech so well that YEARS later in his witcher 2 journal entry about assire var anahid (cahir's relative) he is very specifically like "assire is from VICOVARO. apparently a very proud nation of people who will get super mad if you call them nilfgaardians". i think thats so great

the second sentence in this is literally a direct quote from cahir;

This sorceress came from Nilfgaard, or more precisely from Vicovaro - a distinction of extreme importance to the highborn of the Empire, as I can attest from personal experience. That is because the term "Nilfgaardian" is reserved for native residents of the Empire's capital and its immediate vicinity.

#muse: cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach

[mxcrayon]

just found this while playing cyberpunk 2077

reference to the witcher perhaps

#for context cyberpunk 2077 was made by projekt red who also made the witcher games #and there's a nation in the witcher called nilfgaard #there's a shop called milfguard #i just think it's funny #and potentially a reference #witcher 3 #cyberpunk 2077 #projekt red #the witcher #nilfgaard

[witcher-trash]

Horror themed geraskier fic recs

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.-Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

An All-Consuming Creature Following the events on the mountain top, Jaskier and Geralt have parted ways. Months pass and winter comes, brining with it stillness and the ever-pressing silence to remind Geralt that someone is missing. But spring is late in coming. Worry and work pours in through every part of the country as the people consult every power available: witchers, sorceresses, kings, and countrymen, for nothing is growing in the fields. Nothing flowers. What can be the cause? And why in all this time has he heard not a single note from that familiar lute, whatever tavern or pub he's come upon? Rumors abound of the terrifying prospect that spring may not return and the bard's disappearance is lost in the shuffle. When the witcher lost his dandelion, had the world lost so much more?alt — Jaskier gets kidnapped by a strange entity that calls itself Love who attempts to woo him. Meanwhile, the world is dying and no one has answers. Therein lies a mystery and a connection.

A Twist in Time When Jaskier looks over the witcher has his eyes shut tight, his whole body seeming pained. Jaskier realises he wants to soothe him, and the strength of feeling surprises him. He’s been too long without company.“What happened?” the witcher says finally.Jaskier blinks. “That’s quite a big question. I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific.”“With Nilfgaard,” the witcher clarifies, growling slightly. “It shouldn’t – it didn’t happen like this.”In 1240, Jaskier the bard leaves Posada earlier than planned because of a devil in the mountains.In 1263, three years after Nilfgaard conquers the north, Julian Pankratz, viscount of Lettenhove, hires a witcher and learns about the path his life should have taken.This is not an AU.

ghosting “Why are you doing this,” Geralt asks- he is tired. He has not had the time to mourn Jaskier with him right there at his side. “Jaskier. Why are you here?” “Where else would I go?” Jaskier says- bloody teeth. 

Hibernating with Ghosts Getting stuck in Kaedwen in winter had never been on Jaskier's plan. It's cold, they don't appreciate his music and nobody likes their national beverage anyway. The only redeeming thing Kaedwen has is Kaer Morhen, so Jaskier does what any reasonable bard would do in this situation: he decides to charm his way into Kaer Morhen to hibernate with Geralt and the other witchers. If nothing it will be an experience no human has ever had, fuel for songs and poems for years to come, while finally teaching him a thing or two about witchers he's just dying to know.Curiosity tended to kill the cat, but Jasker had always seen himself as more of a bird anyway.

Him In his time as a witcher, Geralt has killed just about everything that can be killed: monsters, beasts, constructs, men, even the undead can die again if you know the trick to it. Wraiths, he knows, are the lingering troubled spirits of people who died tragically, violently, unjustly and unavenged. Their unfair fate spawns in them a jealousy and hatred of everything living that quickly drives them mad and makes them dangerous and deadly, driven to torment those responsible for their plight. Usually he feels no more than a twinge of pity as he sends them off again with silver and fire, but then again usually they aren’t haunting him. Usually they aren’t Jaskier.Geralt learns that Jaskier never made it off the mountain after the dragon hunt and, if that’s what it takes to appease the monster that now wears his face, neither will Geralt.

I'd Be the Choiceless Hope “Such a nice, beautiful sound,” the fae crooned. “If only he were this way always.”Julian’s mother stood up. She claimed she was prepared to stop the fae, to protect her baby, but in Julian’s darkest moments he doubted this part of the story. His mother loved him, of that he had no doubt, but she had been young and weary, and even years later, she couldn’t quite get the twinge of exhaustion out of her eyes when she recalled Julian’s infancy. Even if she had been keen on protecting him, the fae was too close, too fast, too set on his plan.“A gift, for the new mother,” the fae continued. He leaned a hand in to stroke Julian’s cheek. “I give you the gift of obedience.”As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier's mother with Jaskier's obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the "gift" became more of a curse.

Silver and Copper Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying.As Geralt struggles to untangle the ugly web of history that has lead to the increasingly complicated curse, he finds himself spending more and more time with the strange young viscount and wondering just what he might have been before the curse, and who he might be after. But things are not always as they seem, and as the curse tightens its grip on Jaskier, Geralt is forced to face the fear of failing yet another person whose choices were stolen from them.Or-Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

Singing Silver Jaskier had not noticed that he was falling apart until he found himself looking into Geralt’s golden eyes and realized that he had no defense.“I don’t play for the dead,” he said. Geralt’s gaze held him fast. His heart sped and he wondered if the Witcher could hear it. He wondered if Geralt knew the exhilaration and terror that burned the dread away like flame to oil. “Not anymore.”

The House of Gwyn Carraigh (geralt x eskel x jaskier) A curious boast of luck sees Eskel into the nowhere town of White Stone, the promise of Geralt and Jaskier's company quickly souring with what he finds: Jaskier, alone and half-mad in a nightmarish torment, and Geralt gone missing on a contract. Trying to keep a cool head, Eskel's window to save both Jaskier and Geralt quickly closes.A tale in two acts.

The skin that crawls from you The contract seemed like any at the beginning. But it turned out to be much more.Jaskier would never describe himself as a coward. However, he couldn't help but feel afraid when he found the monster before Geralt, if one could even call it a monster.

Where the Hearts Are Rotted Out Taking the route through Crookback Bog has its risks. So does Jaskier's making fun of the shrine to the Ladies of the Wood. Illness, curses, wraiths, and ancient hags lurk in the fog.Or it could be a regular human cold.

#geraskier #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #jaskier #trash boy speaking #fic recs

[oxenfurt-archives]

King Radovid the Stern

Redania remains untouched by Nilfgaardian forces. Our young king, Radovid the Stern, works tirelessly to unify the Northern forces to push back the Nilfgaardian threat. The current northern boundary of Redania touches nations of the Hengefor’s League, while the great Pontar River is the southern border and is the highway for Redania’s trade empire. In the west it is bounded by the Gulf of Praxeda and the Northern Sea. The wooded hills then roll east up to the Kestrel Mountains, which have traditionally been the boundary between Redania and Kaedwen. Recently, in response to a call from Kaedwen, King Radovid has sent Redanian troops across the Kestrel Mountains, not to aid Kaedwen but to occupy, as a part his plan to consolidate the Northern Kingdoms. This sparked the Winter War, as Kaedwen attempted to rally its forces to push back Redania. King Radovid’s father was King Vizimir the Just. Redania thrived in his reign, but darkness was on the horizon. In 1262 Nilfgaard started its depredations in the Northern lands, including the destruction of Cintra. King Vizimir saw Redania through the First Nilfgaardian War, but even during the peace Nilfgaardian spies and provocateurs sought to destabilize the country, sending proselytizing priests of the Great Sun and merchants with products priced to undercut domestic goods. The non-human races were egged on by Nilfgaardian spies. This came to a head when an elven attacker assassinated King Vizimir, although there are those that believe that the assassin was hired by Vizimir’s sorceress adviser, Philippa Eilhart. At that time Radovid was only thirteen years old and Redania was in the midst of the Second Nilfgaardian War. Queen Hedwig reigned in Redania, but power rested with a regency council led by the head of Redanian Intelligence, Sigismund Dijkstra, and his lover, the sorceress Philippa. The sorceress unwisely treated Queen Hedwig and the young Prince Radovid very badly. They say it was her arrogance that burned a vast hatred of sorceresses into our king at a young age. When he took the throne he realized the Lodge of Sorceresses had too much influence on the Northern kings. Radovid’s witch hunters, previously the most fanatical of the Knights of the Flaming Rose, have since hunted down many mages.

Rodolf Kazmer & Brandon of Oxenfurt

The Witcher Lore (169/∞)

#radovid v #radovid the stern #the witcher #witcher lore #the witcher trpg #Rodolf Kazmer #Brandon of Oxenfurt

[hosts-of-valyria]

An epic clash: Yennefer and Jon in Casterly Rock, "Let me do the talking for now, honey", said Yennefer.

Yennefer of Vengerberg vs Tywin and Kevan Lannister; Yennefer instantly recognizes lies

Yennefer's wisdom and strength: Yennefer Stark-Vengerberg and Jon Stark-Vengerberg. Only Yennefer of Vengerberg can get the most out of Jon

"What Makes a Good King or Queen?"

Independence for the Kingdoms

"I am only human, Tywin. Be glad the Iron Throne is gone and the Lannisters are kings and queens in Casterly Rock", said Rhaegar.

"I'm sorry, Cersei, that Emhyr declared war on House Lannister. I run through worlds, screaming, crying alone only to see in the end that chaos awaited me. Only here in this world do I feel good", said Ciri.

Cersei smiled, "Cintra suffered because of Emhyr, Ciri. None of this is your fault. Myrcella, you and I are going to Cintra to unite the armies of Cintra and House Lannister. That would also be in the spirit of Pavetta and Calanthe."

"Everything I did was for the good of House Lannister. Yes i was hiding under Casterly Rock. What's bad about staying neutral that doesn't make me evil if I want to choose the winner.

It stinks of rebellions in the Kingdoms, the treacherous vassals are already mutinous. Gregor Clegane rebels against House Lannister, Addam Marbrand rebels. In the north, the Boltons are rebelling. Brienne of Tarth's father rebels against Robert Baratheon in Storm's End. Yronwoods rebel in Dorne. The hill tribes in the Vale of Arryn attack the knights in broad daylight.

We still need alliances. The Kingdoms of Westeros fought each other even before Aegon the Conquer. I have to break vassalage now or I'll lose Casterly Rock and it belongs to House Lannister. If Winterfell is rightfully owned by the Starks, or King's Landing is rightfully owned by the Targaryen, Casterly Rock is rightfully owned by the Lannisters. Then borders must now be drawn on the maps. I always wanted Cersei to be a queen, she's a queen in Casterly Rock. And Jaime is a knight in Storm's End", yelled Tywin.

Yennefer laughed aloud, "it took 5 minutes for the lies to start. What did I expect from a place held together by bullshit."

Yennefer looked at Jon, "listen carefully honey. We have a man here who believes what he says is wise. Do you know what Tywin is missing?"

Jon nodded, "I listen to you Yen'. Tywin lacks humanity."

Aegon, Sansa, Yennefer, Rhaegar, Lyanna and Elia laughed aloud, "yeah you know things, Jon."

Tywin growled, "then give Jaime back to me, Rhaegar. Then I'll make him a good king at Casterly Rock. Then I'll send Cersei to Cintra. Then Jaime should no longer be a knight in Storm's End for the fat Storm King. When I'm inhuman sometimes I want Jaime back in Casterly Rock. Then Gregor Clegane will stay away from now on, then I'll lock him away. Then I'll send Pycelle and Qyburn back to the Citadel in Oldtown."

Rhaegar nodded, "ok, fine I'll give Jaime back to you as your heir if you give him the chance to fall in love then he can get married."

Tywin nodded, "it's Okay."

Jon smiled, "I love this woman."

Yennefer laughed.

"It makes you evil when you want to shed a bloodbath at Westerosi, Tywin Lannister! Myrcella is a good girl, Tommen is a good boy and Joffrey makes every effort in life and wants to be a king. I think Rhaegar was still born in Westeros. Then dissolve vassalage, then you need a standing army in Casterly Rock. Rhaegar is a human like you! It makes you evil when you want to marry off your children against their will! The Lannisters spent all the gold at an exorbitant price!

You slaughtered House Reyne, Lord Tywin Lannister! You! You! You! You all alone! Yes, then vassalage must be dissolved immediately in all kingdoms. Then borders have to be set on the cards.

Do you want Jaime back as your heir? Then you have to give him the chance to fall in love. And do you think Cersei will be a good queen in Casterly Rock? What makes a good king or Queen, Tywin Lannister? Tell me, I want to know. Tell me and Jon how the procedure works."

Tywin growled like a lion, "I know the answer. Yes, I can't fight against Jon and you. Well done Jon. You found a wonderful woman there. I'm powerless against you, Jon."

Yennefer and Jon looked at each other and they both grinned, "very wise answer, Lord Tywin."

"Yennefer. This is Sansa and Rhaenys", said Daenerys, Lyanna and Elia.

"We heard so much from Yennefer of Vengerberg and wanted to see this wicked witch Jon sleeps with. Benjen, Will and Jeor Mormont cheered over Jon who brings resources from strange worlds to the wall. Jeor Mormont calls Jon a hero of the Night's Watch and gave him Longclaw when he saved his life from a revenant. We have seen cruel things in Westeros since we left our homes. We met Daenerys, a Witcher and a Child of Surprise on Dragonstone. These three spoke of a sorceress who travels with Jon to get support. When Ciri opened magical portals for us, we saw this new world. Robb, Aegon and we haven't seen Jon in years and suddenly it was said he was in another world. Yes, we should have taken care of him more often", said Sansa and Rhaenys.

Yennefer laughed out loud, "Yennefer Stark-Vengerberg. I'll show you two brats right away what this wicked witch is capable of.

You can be very proud of Jon. King Foltest of Temeria was the first monarch in my world to step down as king and make elections in Temeria possible, he is the first Warden to be elected by the peoples of my world. King Virfuril of Aedirn followed suit and was elected Warden of Aedirn by the people. Elections are already coming in my world. Nilfgaard breaks, the people choose their own leader and Emhyr var Emreis is powerless. The people in my world cheer Jon loudly. The jubilation extends from Nilfgaard to the northern kingdoms of my world. People cheer Lyanna Stark's son. They call him Savior of Worlds, empires bow their knees to Jon. Evil people are powerless against Jon. Wars stop across the board in two worlds. Jon brought justice and order, the races and nations choose their leaders and live in prosperity together.

Elves, gnomes, dwarves and humans cheer loudly to Jon, who unites them in times of peace and independence they say he knows what's right.

He told me that you two forgot him. Oh, Your Highnesses, is Robb Stark already ruining the north? Oh Jon is a married man we got married in Vengerberg six months ago. Ciri, Geralt, Daenerys, Rhaegar, Lyanna, Rhaella and Triss were also there. I've seen tyrants. I've seen terrible things in my life. I met Daenerys, Geralt and Ciri at Sodden Hill. I met Jon for the first time north of the wall, he was tired of fighting. I met Lyanna, Rhaegar, Elia for the first time, in Harrenhal with Jon. Sansa, Rhaenys, then you forgot about Jon. Foltest of Temeria is a friend of Jon, he gives him good steel for the Night's Watch. Ah, Rhaenys the whore queen in the north and Sansa the whore queen in King's Landing", said Yennefer.

Elia laughed out loud, "I envy Lyanna, I would like you to be my daughter-in-law too. Such a strong woman."

Three sisters: Rhaenys, Sansa and Yennefer

Sansa looked wide-eyed, "you, Rhaenys and I are similar, Yen. Like sisters. There are men and women who are capable of cruel deeds. This world just sucks like yours", said Rhaenys and Sansa.

Lyanna, Elia, Yennefer nodded, "you're right. There are people who enjoy the suffering of others."

Elia and Lyanna nodded, "What Yennefer is talking about is that damage comes up even in times of independence, that is vassalism and that vassal oath sucks."

Tywin nodded, "I'm just a feudal lord like Rickard or Jon Arryn, that's all I am. Boltons rebel on their own, too, and who comes next? Umbers? Karstarks? That runs like a red thread. Insurgent vassals are everywhere in Westeros. Yennefer is right about that, there are lying vassals in her world too. Wheels of power are also in her world."

Yennefer nodded, "that's what I'm talking about, how far does loyalty go to a feudal lord, Tywin is a feudal lord, Eddard and Rickard are. Damage comes up, Sansa, right before your eyes, tell me how far does loyalty go for a feudal lord or lady? This world and my world are still shitty where everyone wants power, including vassals. These are worlds where you can die if you do something wrong. Jon doesn't want to be king, he says it openly. He's not a bastard, Geralt is happy to have a companion in the fight against monsters, believe me, Geralt just wants friends he can join. You're wrong, Sansa, if you think Jon is power. You and I get into real trouble if you turn Jon into a game ball. And you don't want to mess with me, Sansa. Girl, I see that when you lie, I see that very clearly. I smell lies a thousand miles against the wind. You are a grown woman and you are queen, then you have to take sides too, Jon is afraid of Robert. You say openly that you like beautiful things because it gives you a feeling to be better than others, I am not saying that you are superficial, I am saying that you also want power, that can be seen very clearly. But now listen carefully to me, you are only human, you are not perfect, I am not perfect, I am mortal too. Don't pretend to be a goddess, miss! You can't turn the shit around as you want, at some point it has to be over. You may survive, but I would survive you. It really needs to be made clear now that Winterfell belongs to the Starks, or Casterly Rock to the Lannisters, or King's Landing to the Targaryen. That means vassals need work now and Winterfell needs a standing army of northerners, which smells very strongly of conscription in the north. Given the size of the north, I would estimate 30,000 northerners in Winterfell to intervene in famine and disease. Oh, Winterfell needs big army barracks, money for that can be shot north. Winterfell urgently needs a standing army, otherwise there will be a bang in the north. The vassals become sovereign rulers in their territories. You can't get the Dreadfort under control, if the Boltons in the north skin people alive they have to be captured, the Boltons are already rebelling of their own accord and a thirst for power. Other vassals could take the Dreadfort in a thirst for power and also rebel against the Starks. Then I would append the lands of the Boltons as a province. But if Roose Bolton legitimizes Ramsey and allows him to marry Miranda, they need work, then Robb gets it all bent so that the Boltons no longer rebel. Military service for a few years or for life is possible. Then you have to deal with a military, titles in an army, leaders, generals. Jon and Geralt have been doing military service with the Night's Watch for a number of years. The independence was given by Rhaegar, he did everything right when he burned the Iron Throne with the Wildfire and he removed Aerys as king. Life goes on, now work is waiting for each of us. Banks are already built from north to south, money is in circulation. You want to be better than others, Sansa. That is also a hunger for power."

"We just have the power to protect those we love", said Sansa and Rhaenys.

Yennefer laughed, "This automatically increases your power over others! You only want me as an advisor because I'm Jon's girlfriend and Daenery's, Jaskier's and Geralt's best friend, at the moment I only have power because of Jon. It will be expensive for you to buy me out of my neutrality. You two have no power over me, I will not love you as queens, I will accept you as queens. Jon has power over me, he gives me so much and I give him something back by now aging normally, you two have no power over Jon, Geralt, Ciri, Daenerys or me. Jon believes in Geralt, Ciri, Daenerys, and me. Jon says he wants Geralt to be his best friend. Geralt and Jon stay neutral. Jon already wields power, he too is already powerful, Geralt and Daenerys are powerful too. I am already powerful.

Sansa, Rhaenys, I'm not what I look like, I was powerful before I got this look. Either you want power or you don't want it. There is always a choice. You want to play a game with me? A choice was stolen from me, I am a sorceress but this was forced on me, I could have become a sorceress of my own accord. If Geralt is a warrior then he could have made his own choice instead he was forced to be a Witcher. Jon is a leader that he can learn without taking an oath. If I had become a bad mother, I would have realized that. I'm not a bad mother, if Geralt wants me to be a foster mother for Ciri then he just has to say that. He and I don't have to have an on / off relationship for that. If Geralt wants Daenerys to share her knowledge with Ciri, he just has to say it. Mine and this world are cruel. Daenerys openly says she wants a little girl and there is Ciri. Geralt conjured something up when he tied Ciri to himself, he already has Ciri. Daenerys and I can choose to be foster mothers for her. Geralt doesn't have to force this in a wish where he uses the wrong words. It's not about what he wanted, it's about what he didn't want. I said that I want a child and there is Ciri. I say I want to age normally because power is not everything in life. And now I age normally, Ciri says she wants to hear Jon's knowledge too. No Sansa, no Rhaenys, Jon and Geralt stay neutral, if you have something to discuss you can speak to Daenerys and me. Jon belongs in Winterfell too, Sansa. Geralt loves Dragonstone and Essos. I love Jon because he doesn't run after me, he tends to avoid me, but only I can make more of Jon. Geralt evades Daenerys sometimes, but he loves her and doesn't cheat on her. That is the difference. Jon sees Daenerys as human, that has to be enough. Why should Jon be submissive to the two of you, me, or Daenerys? He can learn anything, but only through me. You don't show enough empathy for Jon. And Daenerys makes Geralt great. When these worlds met, fate linked Ciri, Daenerys, Geralt, Jon and me.

If you Don't want power you still have to do something with your life. Oberyn is a good example, he doesn't want power, that's why he travels the world, Rhaenys. Your uncle Oberyn knows very well that he would be a terrible politician. And your uncle Brandon loves Ashara, Sansa, you can't blame him for that. He lives in Dorne.

And Oberyn takes care of his children, nothing more can be expected. There are no bastards. Lyanna is not power, Jon is not power, I am not power. Ciri is not power.

Sansa's and Rhaenys's uncles: Oberyn Martell and Brandon Stark. Brandon never loved Catelyn.

Jon, go outside for a moment, I have something to say to the two bitches. Jon is Jon Stark through Lyanna. Girls, think. Do you want to sit idle for a lifetime? Do you want to twiddle your thumbs and get fat? You can live another seventy years! What is your incentive in life? What do you want to achieve. Jon doesn't want to be king or inherit Winterfell, he says it openly, he works for money, he gets honors from others, he hunts monsters. You both have to take Jon as he is. Yeah, he doesn't want to be a king, he doesn't want to commit incest, and that's really cool, it makes Jon smarter than the two of you together. Either Jon is part of your family or not, if he's a part you must treat him sensibly. If he's not part of your family then Geralt goes to the wall with Jon, he won't swear the oath and you won't see him for years. You're the older one, Rhaenys. Where is your heart, where is your love? Should I call you a bad queen in the north? Do you want that? If you don't do anything with your life, you two are losers and spoiled brats. Come on, show me how smart and strong you are. Jon would love me too if I was still disfigured. Be careful, you two brats. I eat brats like you for breakfast. What Makes a Good King or Queen? What is wisdom? Come on, this is a test. Have you two ever been little birds or worms? Yes, the three of us are similar but you have to recognize that now. Show me the feminist heroine in you. Haha, yes Daenerys and I have a thing for white wolfes. Daenerys and I are the black wolves because Jon and Geralt are monster hunters. The more successful Jon is in life, the harder I want to fuck with him. Geralt says he wants Jon's friendship and he calls Jon his leader. Geralt says that Jon should share his knowledge with Ciri, Jon knows what is right but there is more, much more possible.

The more successful Geralt is, the harder Daenerys wants to feel him in her cunt. Do you know why? Daenerys and I are chaos, and only Geralt gets Daenerys tamed and only Jon gets me tamed. Geralt, Ciri and I can also teach Jon magical skills, mastering fire and ice. If he wants that, Jon can become anything. I find a magical gateway in Jon. He already has Ghost. Jon is also a white wolf. Do you want to rule fire and ice, Jon? Geralt can teach you sword skills from a Witcher. Jon can go hunting monsters with Geralt in my world too. Ciri wants to be like Jon, Geralt, Daenerys and me, and not like you two bitches! Come on, how big is your heart, Rhaenys Stark, Rhaenys Nymeros Martell, Rhaenys Targaryen! Do the names make you horny? Then Robb should ram his cock up your fat ass until you whimper for mercy! Do you think it's funny to deport someone? How do you think Jon feels you two bitches? Maybe you two bitches should go to the wall and swear the oath."

Rhaenys snorted.

Jon smiled, "Magic is cool."

Geralt patted his shoulder, "Sword training starts tomorrow."

"Daenerys and I suck", said Yennefer.

Daenerys laughed aloud, "we're just cunning."

Sansa nodded. "Yes Brandon never loved my mother Catelyn."

Rhaenys rubbed her head, "yes, Oberyn knows he would be a terrible politician. Sansa and I ran across Westeros and made more of our lives, traveling north to south helping others. I would never drop Sansa and she wouldn't drop me. Sansa runs away from Petyr Baelish. I ran away from Robert too. Sansa and I have been through a lot of shit. We often had nervous breakdowns and we gave each other strength.

I love her brother Robb, she loves my brother Aegon, and Jon is my brother too, I never treated him like a bastard, he rightly called himself Stark. And to Sansa, Jon is a brother too."

Rhaenys and Sansa groaned, "We are not spoiled brats. We are stronger than ever. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. We put a lot of effort into learning. We have earned our power, we wouldn't spend our entire lives in Sunspear or Winterfell. Aegon and Robb are strong kings. We never wanted to learn a Game of Thrones, but we wanted to make more of our lives. We've seen the shit and ugliness of the continent. I'm a good queen in the north and Sansa is a good queen in King's Landing. Sansa and I help women who are abused and raped by their husbands. Sansa sells her own knitted clothes in the capital and I design jewelry, we make money too. Sansa and I brought prosperity to the north and Dorne. I've earned the Crown of the North, I know all about the North and Dorne, and I love Winterfell, King's Landing, and Sunspear alike. Sansa made the capital a better city."

Rhaenys shook her head, "I'm not a bad sister, I never have been. Families are complicated. I give a shit about the name Stark, Martell or Targaryen when I know Jon is happy it's just names.

I'm happy that you two found each other. He is Jon Stark. Aegon and I love Jon. Robb loves Jon. Sansa loves Jon. We would never want him to suffer. Sansa and I would never want Jon to hate us, we're trying to do the best we can, we just want peace like you. Kings and queens are never safe, we have to end this. Robert chose Eddard to be his brother, what should I do Yen. Stannis and Renly protect Jon too. I wouldn't live in Sunspear all my life either, I love Robb. Aegon loves Sansa more than anything. I would never make Robb a king consort. Before that happens, I would resign as Queen. I don't give a fuck about the Realm, i'm human too. Robert called Elia an evil snake and threatens everyone. He hit Lyanna and Cersei. Ciri is so wonderful, we can change your world too, Yennefer. I've seen Kaer Morhen too, Robb and I have ridden through your world. You and Sansa are my sisters, I just want to be strong for Jon like you and Sansa. We need elections, Rhaegar was elected Warden of King's Landing by the people in the capital. We need new offices in the Kingdoms. As Tywin says, the name lasts for a thousand years, if there is a baby boom then the children don't automatically have to become kings and queens, we can create new jobs for heirs. Even if Jaime and Brienne have children together, the children don't automatically have to be kings. Robb and I hardly argue, Sansa and Aegon hardly argue. We do our best, we love Jon and he can always come to us. We are happy that Ciri calls Geralt, Jaskier and Jon father and Daenerys and you mother. Ciri is so wonderful."

Yennefer laughed aloud, "That wouldn't have been justified if you had treated Jon like a bastard! He's Jon Stark, this may or may not suit you two, bitches."

Sansa and Rhaenys huffed, "We are not bitches."

Tywin nodded. "That would be best when kings and queens end."

Yennefer smiled, "ah ok. But families can be great together. Robert is unfaithful, Rhaenys. Lyanna is Eddard's sister.

He just wants to bang Lyanna and the next day he would be gone, he was just fascinated by the idea of ​​marrying Lyanna. You see Robert's character, he hits women when something doesn't suit him. Either you have a decent relationship with no quarrels over small things, or you leave it if you are unable to have a relationship. Jon doesn't hate you. Come back inside Jon. It is very clear, Sansa, you either want Baelish in your service or you don't, he is breaking families apart in his greed for power. Give him politics in Riverrun and you're rid of him."

Sansa nodded, "I don't want Baelish."

Elia smiled, "Oberyn knows that he would be a cruel politician, Rhae. Lyanna, Rhaegar and I haven't had sex in ages."

Rhaenys and Sansa groaned, "Ok, we have to put up with that. Ok, right, we don't want to be inactive. That would make us losers in life."

Yennefer nodded, "Yes that would make you losers."

Lyanna, Elia, Kevan, Rhaegar, and Tywin nodded, "Yes, that smells like conscription. Military service for a few years or for life is possible."

Sansa and Rhaenys nodded, "we got it. Yes then we all have to dissolve the vassalage. House Stark is not going to hand over Winterfell."

Yennefer looked at them.

"An oath can mean doom. Rhaenys and you are the sisters I never had, Sansa. Yes we are similar. It's not difficult for me to fall in love with Jon either. The problem is, Jon must want more than just defeat the Night King. He knows things and he can learn anything and he already sees it. Elia and Lyanna are the mothers I never had when I was a kid. It's nice to see how happy Jon is in the fact that he got the name Stark from Lyanna and he's not a bastard, he never was. Aegon, Jon and Robb are brothers for Geralt, I'm all the more happy that he finally fell in love with Daenerys. Ciri is happy. Ciri can achieve something great in these two worlds, these worlds are very similar. Ciri loves Westeros and Essos. We can make this continent, Essos and my world so great, create a better future. Tywin is right, if you want my advice I'll give you that, but then you have to listen to me, rulers listen to their advisors Sansa. I give Rhaenys as queen in the North my advice, no problem, but not for free! I want money Sansa. That crown from King's Landing gives you no power, Sansa. That gives you no power over me. A crown can break. I will not love you as a queen, I will accept you as a queen. Each of us learns our whole life. If you live a quiet life as a queen, I will call you a bad queen, because then you are no better than Robert Baratheon, as a Storm King. Oh you want my advice. Then we look each other in the eye and we agree that we need to talk about money. I don't give advice for free. I've seen so many bad kings and queens who didn't care about my advice because they enjoyed the power that came with me. Who tells me you're not such a ruler too, Sansa? A feminist heroine has visions, tell me about your vision. Maybe I can relate to it. I've already stopped counting how many bad monarchs I've seen. True to the motto: Good advice is expensive, Sansa. I hold out my hand, if you want me as an advisor you have to pay me. Yes, one doesn't talk about money, but we have to do that briefly. Aegon is a good and strong king, and he loves you with all his heart. I love Jon more than anything. Oh it will be expensive for you two to bring me into your service and alliance. Sansa, Rhaenys listen carefully, Jon and Geralt remain neutral. I can also stay neutral, if you want me you have to offer me a lot. I will not love Rhaenys and you as queens, I will accept you both, Sansa. When I see that you start a project to change the continent I will support you. What are you offering me to give up my neutrality, Rhaenys, Sansa. What does Catelyn offer me to help her daughter as a counselor? I know my worth, what am I worth to you two? I don't give advice for free, I've seen so many bad monarchs. I think the currency was gold dragons, right? I do not give advice for under 500 gold dragons every month when I also pay taxes."

Tywin and Kevan smiled, "yes, because advice usually costs money, it is not for free. I don't want to talk my mouth lint and nobody listens to me. Yes, it is easy to become a bad king or queen. My brother Kevan and I pay you every month, Yennefer", said Kevan and Tywin.

Sansa and Rhaenys nodded, "We deduct the taxes. the taxes are used for schools, roads, the kingsroad has to be expanded. The capital is getting cleaner. Winterfell needs to get cleaner and healthier. 500 gold dragons every month for you. That's the currency. We all offer you a career. I like money too, Rhaenys likes it too. I'm better than Robert Baratheon. Rhaenys is better than Robert. Aegon, Rhaenys, Rhaegar, Tywin, Lyanna, Elia and I pay best in Westeros. Rhaenys and Robb give you rooms in Winterfell and Aegon and I give you money, work and rooms in the Red Keep. I'm building a political council with Lyanna and Elia, I could use you Yen. Your qualifications are great, I will pay you well. I pay you. Rhaegar, Aegon, Lyanna, Elia and I are making new laws. Politics as competition. We pay you every month, Yen. Jon and Geralt get money from Rhaegar, Rickard, Eddard, Robb and Aegon every month. Jaskier is in Highgarden. Olenna and Margaery are fascinated by him as a bard. Your jobs are in Casterly Rock, the Crownlands and the north, King's Landing and Winterfell."

Yennefer looked at with wide eyes, "ah a career, all right. Politics as a competition? That's cool, I'll join in, I'll join this council. Ok I can travel through magical portals, I come to the capital when Jon and Geralt go back north and Daenerys sails back to Essos. Then Ciri, Tissaia and I have to think about expanding the portals. A career, you made it up nicely, you two bitches. Have you studied my path in life?"

Rhaenys and Sansa laughed, "If it works."

Yennefer laughed out loud, "Attention." Daenerys laughed out loud, "Oh that was Geralt, Ciri and me, we told them about your path."

Yennefer groaned, "Ah ok. Well done Ciri. My parents abused me when I was a kid. I was disfigured when I was a kid. I didn't have anything when I was little, I was treated like a pig. Jon gave me back that choice that was stolen from me."

Lyanna and Elia looked at her, "then be happy that Ciri has such great opportunities now. Be happy that Geralt fell in love."

Dany barked at Sansa and Rhaenys, "Geralt and Jon remain neutral. Are you deaf in both of your ears or just stupid?"

Yennefer nodded, "I'm happy about that. I am happy that Ciri has a foster father in Jon and Geralt and a foster mother in Daenerys. Like Jon, Jaskier, Geralt, Daenerys, I want Ciri to be fine. Emhyr is a monster. Yes, I have to put up with the fact that I'm shit and be manipulative. But then you have to put up with the fact that you suck too, Daenerys."

Daenerys nodded, "he's a monster. Yeah, I'm a bitch sometimes, I admit it. But we love Ciri. Ciri doesn't want to experience chaos or on / off relationships, she wants to live a life."

Yennefer groaned, "I know."

Rhaenys smiled, "Oh you get money. It would be so nice if you, as Jon's great love, were mine and Sansa's advisors. I am ready to pay a lot of money for you."

Aegon smiled, "Jon, Robb and Geralt are my brothers."

Tywin nodded, "Yennefer is right. I can't turn Myrcella into a bastard, I can't. Yes, you must want something more than just defeating the undead, Jon. You have to kick yourself in the ass if you want to achieve more in life. Yes, when Myrcella isn't a bastard then neither are you, you're a Stark through Lyanna, you're Jon Stark. Yes, the continent has potential. We can change all this, this is possible. New titles, claims, elections can be created. The Lannister fleet and I join you on the expedition to Valyria. I'm looking for Brightroar. The Lannister fleet and Targaryen fleet sail together, Jon. We get valyrian steel. Expeditions to Valyria to get steel can be planned when we attack the undead together. We need more valyrian steel. Then we have to take care of safety if we should meet stone people, I will definitely not sleep on Valyria overnight. Southern armies can be mobilized for the cold, but I need time for that. It's okay with me if the Wildlings stay in the north as long as they don't start looting south of the wall. Then Wildlings should also be allowed to come to the capital, no problem for me, they should get food and supplies. They can come back south of the wall during long winters. Nobody wants to get sick because of winters or the cold. Then I want to hear from Ciri what Emhyr is capable of, then I want to hear about the cruelty of this tyrant. Myrcella, like you, works for honor and money. I support you on the expedition to Valyria to get valyrian steel to fight the revenants, I know the blacksmith in Essos."

Yennefer smiled, "I'm sending Ciri and Myrcella to you, Tywin. The wall does not fall Tywin. There is magic buried there to stop the Night King. Only dragons can destroy the wall. The sorceresses strengthen the protective magic of the wall. That's what Triss, Tissaia and I do. When we are stronger we hunt the Night King to the wall, all armies of Westeros against the undead. A great story. Yes, Lyanna and Elia are right, at first it doesn't matter whether there is fair rule, at some point royalty has to come to an end, Sansa. A name remains even if there are no longer kings and queens. Now we all take a deep breath, because we have enough to do for the future, we are now fundamentally changing something. We will ensure justice now, and then we have to change continents. I do not serve a queen who makes a quiet life. You and Aegon are political geniuses in King's Landing, fine, start making a change, rights for Lowborn, there's so much to do, Sansa. Lyanna, Rhaegar and Elia are already making new laws."

Aegon and Sansa nodded, "yes, we will change this continent colossally in the near future."

Tywin and Rhaegar nodded, "Yes the kingdoms are independent and the Iron Throne may be gone, but it's too easy to become a bad king or queen. You cannot rule with love, it is impossible that makes others jealous. This is still a shitty world where everyone wants power. That means there has to be an end to kings and queens at some point. Come on Rhaegar, let's get drunk", said Tywin and Kevan.

Rhaegar nodded, "That's a good idea. I can't stand Lyanna's, Cersei's and Elia's cackling any longer."

Tywin and Kevan laughed aloud. Cersei, Lyanna and Elia looked at him, "Be careful Rhaegar Targaryen!"

Sansa, Aegon, Rhaenys, Daenerys, Myrcella, Jon, Geralt, Ciri, Cersei, Yennefer laughed aloud, "we could get used to this atmosphere."

Aegon, Jon and Rhaegar nodded, "we have time, Tywin."

Yennefer smiled and kissed Jon, "just a cunning sorceress", said Jon.

She smiled, "oh yeah. I may be powerful, but in the end I'm just cunning, nothing more. I am not a queen or a princess. If Elia is Princess Elia and Lyanna is Lady Lyanna, I am Lady Yennefer, but nothing more. Yes be Queen Sansa, at some point there has to be an end to kings and queens, remember that. You're too tight-knit there Sansa, you have to widen your view of things. You're in your early twenties girl. I am an old woman, Sansa. I age normally now, live another seventy years and die with Jon. I've seen more than you can ever imagine. Aegon loves you. My head was in chaos and only Jon kept me in check. Even Geralt was hardly able to do that. You have no idea Sansa what Emhyr var Emreis is capable of, a tyrant who uses an ax and a whip to compel allegiance. This man is capable of anything, he would marry Ciri to control Cintra, he would marry his own child. When Emhyr var Emreis finds out that Ciri is in another world he will try everything to get a united continent and three dragons. And then Tywin is dead too. Emhyr var Emreis knows no mercy. He'll kill you too, Sansa. He kills everyone and dances on the bodies of his enemies. Emhyr var Emreis will have everyone from Robert Baratheon to Eddard Stark killed. He's going to kill Cersei, Myrcella, Starks, Martells, Arryns, he just has to let the armies emerge if we don't have any more strength. You wanted a crown, a handsome prince. You were never a little bird. You have already seen bad people. You know power games, a Game of Thrones, lies, you've worked for your crown, you've earned it, but history knows really evil people who dream of world domination. These people don't stop at you either, Sansa. These people don't stop in front of Robert Baratheon, who can also be assassinated. Nor do these people stop before Tywin, who may drink poisoned wine the next evening. These people enjoy dancing on dead bodies. These people tell Tywin what he wants to hear and the next moment he's dead. Emhyr var Emreis only has to send the armies of the Empire and Tywin would be dead if he faced him alone in battle. Emhyr var Emreis is greedy for power, a bad father for Ciri, a tyrant. I'm not saying Emhyr should die, he's a tragic figure. He should just apologize to Ciri. Emhyr, Tywin and Rhaegar could still be best friends, the three of them are similar. Emhyr may suck but is a good leader for an empire, which means that at some point there has to be an end to kings and queens. It is always said that kings and queens are to blame when wars, famine or disease come. The people in the streets must choose their own leaders, not vassals appoint a king. Cruelty? It can be a lot, Sansa. I've made questionable decisions too, I'm a murderer too, and I can cope with that. But no more kings, queens or tyrants. And it is always the fault of the kings and queens because they sit in their castles, have warm asses and the population gets sick because the hygiene is not right. Winterfell, Karhold, Sunspear are dirty, Sansa. You can write pig in the dirt. It may be that Rhaenys and you are good queens, but vassals also want to have more power one day. It's very simple, the king and queen have to pull together. You must make an effort in your relationship and rule as monarchs. Otherwise you don't need to have a relationship if you think there will be kings or queens in the future. I am very happy that Geralt finally shows love and has his true love in Daenerys. But Ciri, Dany and I want Jon and Geralt to be neutral about wars."

Sansa and Rhaenys groaned, "we got it."

Jon, Geralt, Dany smiled, "you are the best.

Jon smiled, "I love you", she smiled, "I love you."

Tywin and Rhaegar agreed, "these types of people and tyrants have no friends or mercy. No more kings and queens in the near future, we are creating new offices.

They are two steps ahead of us, which means we have to hit them with weapons, which they don't have. Tyrants don't have time, an empire must grow or die. And this downfall must be our goal. An empire needs armies and an economy, if one of the two pillars breaks, the other pillar cannot compensate for it. Varys will poison the economy to the core, and we will bring Emhyr var Emreis with all armies directly to Westeros where he is most vulnerable. Then we will defeat him in battle."

Rhaenys, Sansa, Lyanna, Elia, Daenerys, Tywin and Rhaegar groaned, "Yes tyrants are terrible. Yes then we have to destabilize him until he makes mistakes. We're sending Varys to Nilfgaard to overthrow the empire. Then the empire must be disbanded when we have him on the battlefield. Then the conquered territories must be returned to the point of sovereignty. Then we have to increase the number of armies immediately, then we will immediately mobilize from north to south when he soon finds out that Ciri is gone. Then he has to kneel so that an empire can be overthrown. Then the tyrant must be defeated in battle. Then fighting is important", said Sansa.

Yennefer nodded, "That's it."

Sansa nodded and kissed Aegon, "and I love my strong king."

Lyanna cheered like a cheerleader, "yeah Jon. Yeah Yen. This is my girl. This is my boy."

Daenerys, Rhaenys, Lyanna, Elia, Sansa and Yennefer gave each other high five and patted each other on the buttocks.

#yennefer and jon #anya chalotra #charles dance #tywin lannister #emperor emhyr #aegon and sansa #rhaenys and robb #queen sansa targaryen #emilia clarke #henry cavill

[briarfox13]

Lillie of Temeria

Here’s the post I promised @zuendwinkel​ <3

The lady you saw in this awesome commission is my oldest Witcher OC, Lillie of Temeria! Most of her story is set in the middle to late books with a little bit running into the games timeline. 

Her Face Claim is Liv Tyler! Especially LoTR era

Lillie is only daughter of a Temerian noble family where often away at Foltest’s court, so she and her brother, Rowan often raised mostly by their house’s servants. 

As a child she could be quite wild, witty, feisty and charming.. Her favourite activities include: annoying her brother, galloping, riding and reading. These qualities follow her in to adulthood.

As she grew older Lillie became famous throughout the kingdom not only for her beauty but her skills in resolving problems and finding diplomatic solutions. King Foltest heard and called her to court to act as a secret ambassador to Nilfgaard in an attempt to maintain relations between the two nations.

So she sailed to Nilfgaard and started to explore the palace and court. Lillie finds her self outwitting a few Nilfgaardian diplomats and making friends along the way. Her best friends there are Meredid and Movran. 

Her first proper face to face meeting with Emyhr was when she sneaked into his personal library to "borrow" some books late at night. Amazed at her insolence he becomes intrigued and starts to seek her out. Lillie, who has heard rumours about him does the same.

One particular defining moment was during a masquerade ball, where Emyhr realised that he might have romantic feelings towards her. 

It's a very passionate relationship, in which Lillie falls head over heels for with Emyhr. He does love her more than anything but as emperor he finds it hard to express his feelings. 

They like to go riding, for walks, have fun in the bedroom. He gifted her two hounds, dresses, flowers, and anything she wants. Though they do try to be discrete with their relationship, but rumours do start. Some members of the court aren’t happy about the couple

But sadly all good things come to an end. With the tensions between the Northern Kingdoms and Nilfgaard rising and the advent of False-Ciri, Emyhr grows distant and making the sacrifice, Lillie leaves her love behind so he can concentrate on business.  

They will always love each other very deeply and with great passion but it was doomed from the start.

Once back in Temeria, Lillie discards her bright dresses for black in mourning. She does embark on a relationship with Eskel but he leaves eventually to winter in Kaer Morhen. And unable to let her go, Emyhr installs spies in her home to make sure she is okay. Sadly she dies sometime during the events of TW3, and Emyhr comes to visit her grave.

Back in Nilfgaard in his most private of rooms, are several paintings and sketches of her and them that he visits every day. Lilies are planted throughout the gardens of the palace and he has a vase of them on his desk. 

Lillie is probably one of my favourites OC’s ever, and I love her dearly <3 I have got a growing art collection which I keep adding too XD 

She has a Tag and Pinterest if you are interested =D 

#Lillie of Temeria #Witcher OC #the witcher #wiedźmin #The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt #Lillie x Emyhr #Emyhr x OC #Emperor Emyhr #Emyhr var Emeris #Sorry I think I went overboard #XD #Art by me! #I love this lady so much #Thank you for asking about her <3333

[dykeredhood]

An updated list of my OCs:

Trip Hatchison – a man in his late 20’s, he works in a legal office in fictionalized 1920’s San Fran, he usually has a bit of roguish stubble despite being a very soft and apprehensive boy, and sometimes he wears a hat. He enjoys high quality ink pens and using a coaster between a chilled glass of whiskey and his coffee table

Tatiana Hatchison – bitchy woman in her early 20’s, Trip’s little sister. She’s a ballet dancer, a drunk, and is very reckless (much to her brother’s chagrin). Staunchly anti-coaster, you’ll find her splayed on the couch in Trip’s apartment gossiping with her friends on the phone while she drinks all his whiskey and rests her empty whiskey glass (without a coaster!!!!) on one of his Art Deco side tables

Nedda Sharpe – femme fatale in her mid 30’s, but she’ll kill you if you ask her age. She steals high class art and kills people, we love her for that. She will sometimes wear big dangly earrings

Falina – Witcher OC • she’s not any sort of actual nobility but she can smooth talk her way into high class functions to enjoy good food and drink. Usually she’s posted up in the corner of the big banquet hall watching everyone with unsettling coolness. She knows a bit of sorcery from when she traveled outside of her hometown, since she up and left her own family and renounced any ties she might have to them

Richard “Dick” Avalanche II – frat boy flavor sportscaster, he’s been part of a few national scandals, but those have been him shouting cuss words at a ref he thought made a bad call, no sexual assault or anything. He’s got a scar on the inside of his upper arm from Mama Avalanche having to drag him back into the family SUV when he got too drunk at an industry mixer (Mama Avalanche looks like one of those blonde republican wives and has terrifying acrylic French tip nails)

Princess Veerle of Lyria and Rivia – Queen Meve’s daughter with [REDACTED] and heir to the throne of Rivia and Lyria. After the war with Nilfgaard, Queen Meve had another child and made certain to give her daughter a good education in things like battle strategy, sewing, and horse riding. Veerle has long dark hair with commanding blue eyes and enjoys fox hunting with her mother. Her favorite things to study are different foreign languages (good for future diplomacy) and calligraphy. She’s born after the events happening in Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales, and that’s why the name of her father isn’t publicly known

#trip hatchison #tatiana hatchison #nedda sharpe #Falina #witcher oc #dick Avalanche II #my OCs #personal #Veerle

[havenoffandoms]

Running With The Wolves - Part I

I am back with some Geraskier Werewolf AU. I have planned at least one more part after this, but possibly I’ll be inspired to write more. I find the concept interesting. If you so happen to be interested in reading Part II, let me know and I will tag you in my next update. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it!

Wordcount: 5.5k 

Summary: Jaskier had heard the rumours about shapeshifting witchers, but he had always dimissed them as old wives’ tales. They were the kind of stories mothers told their children to stop them from wandering into the woods on their own after sundown. Shapeshifters did not exist, plain and simple. Jaskier was above such superstitions. 

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Jaskier

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, in a place inaccessible to mere mortals such as ourselves, lived the famous witchers of Kaer Morhen. Mutants, people called them, taken in at a tender age and trained into the deadliest weapons the Continent had ever seen. The witchers of Kaer Morhen were bred with one aim: create a race powerful enough to protect the nations of the Continent against the most horrific monsters that loomed in the darkest corners of the world. However, the other races began to worry that the witchers would one day turn against them. Fearful of the mutants turning rogue, an Alliance was formed between the rulers of the most influential kingdoms of the Continent to combat this new race of superhumans threatening the peace in all the lands. The armies of Nilfgaard, Redania, and Cintra, joined arms and attacked the keep of Kaer Morhen. This was the last time that the nations of the Continent had stood united against a common enemy rather than being at each other’s throats. Outnumbered and taken by surprise, many witchers and young students lost their lives that day. Satisfied with the bloodshed, the armies of the Continent retreated never to be seen in these parts again. Unfortunately for them, the armies of the Alliance had failed to kill all the witchers. Those who survived mourned the loss of their brethren. They swore to never witness such a massacre again and to avenge the fallen by taking the life of whoever dared venture near the keep. The witchers renounced their duty as protectors of the people in favour of becoming the safekeepers of Kaer Morhen.

Nobody knows what became of the surviving witchers, but some claim –

“’l’ll tell ye what became o’ em, bard,” a booming voice interrupted Jaskier’s tale. He traced the voice back to a middle-aged balding man sitting at the bar, his pudgy hand clutching a tankard of ale and a haunted look reflected in his glassy eyes testifying of years of chronic alcoholism. “Shapeshifters, they became… massive wolves now roam the valley o’ Kaer Morhen. Gobble up anyone who shows ‘is face near the keep…”

Jaskier refrained from rolling his eyes at the patron’s comment. He had heard the rumours about shapeshifting witchers, but Jaskier had always dismissed them off as old wives’ tales. They were the kind of stories mothers told their children to stop them from wandering into the woods on their own after sundown. Shapeshifters did not exist, plain and simple. Jaskier was above such superstitions.

“As I was saying, some claim that the witchers still live in Kaer Morhen, keeping to themselves and occasionally wandering out to slay monsters in the area. Others – “

“Did ye not hear me, bard?” the patron interrupted Jaskier a second time, “they ain’t witchers no more. Beasts they’ve become, more freakish still than their mutated human forms. Seen one wi’ me own eyes.”

“Of course you have, good sir. Although I do wonder, was that before or after the third bottle of whiskey?” Jaskier jested, earning himself drunken laughter from the crowd which brought a pleased smile to his face.

“The man’s right, that he is,” another patron, younger and in much better shape, shouted in defence of the first man, “everyone knows that wolves roam the parts of Kaer Morhen.”

The patron carried on his tale of shapeshifting wolves and to Jaskier’s dismay, the crowd hung to his every word. The bard could have argued with the two men, but he did not see the point in doing so. Jaskier would rather save his breath on something more useful. Storytelling paid well enough, and until Jaskier managed to find inspiration for his next ballad, it would have to do. Hopefully he would not have to wait much longer for inspiration to hit him.

“You don’t believe them,” a voice startled Jaskier out of his reverie, “I can tell. I can see it in your eyes.”

The voice belonged to an old and frail-looking woman who was supporting her hunched form somewhat precariously on a wooden stick the size of a thick tree branch. She smiled a toothless smile at Jaskier, who despite his initial surprise had managed to compose himself enough to offer a polite smile in return.

“Do you?” he asked her, trying not to sound condescending as he addressed the elderly woman.

“Why shouldn’t I believe them? I am willing to believe your tale about witchers. If sorcerers exist, it seems perfectly plausible to me that they can use their magic to shapeshift.”

“Only that sorcerers don’t exist, and magic is a relic of the past. Everyone knows that Nilfgaard has successfully eradicated all forms of magic. Witchers are nothing but legendary characters from an old world.”

Jaskier noticed the woman’s smile grow wider at his words. She straightened up as much as her hunched back allowed and locked her milky eyes with Jaskier’s, seemingly staring straight into his soul despite her evident blindness. Jaskier felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“Dear boy, this is not how magic works. You can’t eradicate it in the same way Nilfgaard has destroyed everything else in their path. Eradicating magic is like trying to move sand, grain by grain, from one beach to another. You cannot possibly gather all of it, even with the most advanced tools. Sooner or later, one grain will escape you. Such is the way of magic.”

Jaskier scanned the bar nervously, hoping no one was listening to the conversation. Mentioning sorcery or speaking of Nilgaard in derogatory terms was considered the highest form of treachery, and as such, was punishable by death. Jaskier valued his life dearly and did not want to be seen talking to the wrong person. Sensing his unease, the old woman dropped her voice to barely above a whisper.

“I enjoyed your story, bard. I don’t have much coin to my name, but I do have this.” The woman fished a small vial out of her pockets, her gnarly fingers clutching onto it as if she were holding the world’s most precious elixir in her hands. Her other hand grabbed Jaskier’s so she could place the vial in the palm of his hand. She folded his fingers over the vial, ensuring he was holding it securely.

“What… what is this?” Jaskier enquired curiously.

“A special kind of medicine that heals most wounds. It is not much, but you never know when you might need it. You’ll be glad to have it when the time comes.”

Jaskier would have honestly preferred coin, but he had a bad habit of getting himself into peculiar situations and his clumsiness often resulted in one too many bruises. Medicine was not a cheap ware and healers were rarely honest with their pricing. If anything, Jaskier could sell the medicine at the market for a fair sum which he could then spend on clothes, a nice hot meal or a night at a brothel. Jaskier discreetly dropped the vial in his pocket, making sure no one had spotted him doing so. The last thing he needed was to be mugged as soon as he left the tavern. The woman smiled softly at him, her eyes twitching almost as if she was mapping his face. Which, of course, could not possibly be the case. The woman was clearly blind.

“Thank you for your generosity, Lady…?” Jaskier left the end of his sentence hanging in the air, hopeful that the old woman would fill in the blank for him. Instead, she merely shook her head and left the tavern through the main entrance without another word. Jaskier did not know what to make of that other than finding her behaviour strangely evasive.

“I hope you took notes, bard,” the owner of the tavern shouted at him from the bar, “might wanna add shapeshiftin’ wolves to your story. Then people might throw some coin your way.”

“I have a better idea,” the first patron said as he rose to his feet and took several unsteady steps towards Jaskier. His breath stank of cheap ale and rotting teeth, but Jaskier was far too polite to pull a face at the stench. The man poked the bard’s chest with his fat finger as he slurred his next words. “I’ll pay you a thousand crowns if you travel to the Cursed Valley and live to tell the tale.”

The man’s proposal was met by enthusiastic shouts from the other intoxicated patrons.

“A thousand crowns? For travelling to Kaer Morhen and back?” Jaskier confirmed, pleased when the man’s smile vanished from his face at his nonchalant attitude, “How do I know you have that kind of wealth to spare in this shithole?”

“Oh trust me bard, everyone will pitch in,” the man with the bad breath assured him, but his face grew dead serious as he spoke his next words, “You are a fool for considering the journey. Nobody will have to worry about spending a penny. You’ll die from frostbite before you even reach the keep.”

“If I don’t come back, you’ll have your proof that the giant wolves are not legends. If I come back, then trust me my friend, you’ll never hear the end of it. I shall go to Kaer Morhen and prove to you people once and for all that shapeshifting witchers are a fantasy from the past. I’ll make sure to draw a wonderfully scenic sketch of the Kaer Morhen ruins as proof. And then, of course, I’ll take my thousand crowns from you and disappear from this village forever. Sound like a plan?”

Jaskier could feel the tension rise in the room and the overly-confident patron suddenly seemed to second guess his decision. He extended his hand and waited patiently for the patron to shake it. The glassy eyes stared at Jaskier’s face in a calculating manner as he tried to guess whether the bard was bluffing. After a short silence, the patron shook Jaskier’s hand to the cheers of the crowd. This would be a piece of cake. All Jaskier had to do was disappear for several days, draw a sketch of castle ruins and return to the inn to claim his reward. No one would follow him to Kaer Morhen willingly, so they had no way to prove that he was lying to them. There was no downfall to this plan.

OoO

When Jaskier left the tavern, he felt someone pull him back by the arm and the bard realised with horror that he was unable to escape their iron grip. He turned to face his attacker only to find himself standing before the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was shorter than him but still tall for a woman. Her fiery-red hair reached her lower back and green eyes that could enchant any man, including Jaskier, stared back at him intently. The woman shot him a knowing smile that seemed all too familiar.

“Good afternoon, miss, how may I be of assis –“

“You have no intention of going to Kaer Morhen. Why not?” the woman asked him. She must have been inside the tavern mere minutes ago and followed him out, or how else would she know about his wager with the patron? Jaskier wondered how he could have possibly overlooked such a beautiful creature, he who was usually so good at spotting them. Perhaps they had been so loud that their conversation could be heard from outside, but even so, how would she have known who to intercept?

“I beg your – “

“A thousand crowns is a fair sum, yet I can sense that you have no intention of travelling to Kaer Morhen. My guess is that you want to take advantage of the villagers’ naïve superstitions by fooling them into thinking that you went, reap the rewards and disappear never to return. Which begs the question, why not simply go to Kaer Morhen?”

Jaskier did not appreciate the woman’s questioning, and much less the fact that she had read his intentions so plainly and with such ease. If she had figured out his plan in under two minutes, the patrons of the tavern might have seen through his façade, too. Now the villagers may not have much influence in high places, but nearly all of them possessed pitchforks and torches, and Jaskier did not really find out how much damage those could do in the hand of an angry defrauded mob.

“I don’t have to travel to Kaer Morhen to know that I’m right. Magic does not exist,” Jaskier maintained stubbornly, which earned him a resigned sigh from the red-haired woman.

“They have always baffled me, you know? Those people who stare right at the truth, yet still refuse to acknowledge it.”

“What do you mean?” Jaskier asked, unsure whether he was ready for the answer. The woman stared at him intently as if debating her next move carefully. Her green eyes scanned the area for any unwanted witnesses before she grabbed Jaskier by the arm once more and lead him away from the tavern.

“Not here, it’s too risky,” was the only explanation she provided as she guided Jaskier out of the village and into the nearby woods. The bard wondered if she was planning on killing him for his coin. At least, he tried to console himself, he would die at the hands of a beautiful woman which admittedly could class as a poetic death. The woman stopped abruptly in the middle of the forest and turned to face Jaskier in all her glory. She wordlessly put some distance between herself and the bard by stepping back from him slowly, almost as if she were trying not to startle a terrified animal. Jaskier was too mesmerised by the way her body seemed to float away from him that the thought of running did not even cross his mind. His jaw dropped when he noticed a purple hue surround the beautiful woman, wrapping itself around her in wisps of smoke until it faded and revealed the distinctive hunched back belonging to the old woman from the tavern. Jaskier felt his heart skip and drop to his stomach at the sight.

At first, he was surprised.

Then surprise gave way to baffled confusion.

Until his confusion turned to fear.

“You… you’re a…”

“Sorceress,” the old woman provided before changing back into the beautiful red-haired woman once again, “a wielder of magic, capable of shapeshifting amongst other very useful things. I know what you’re thinking, bard. You’re scared and confused, and that’s understandable. But you needed to see this. You needed to see it to believe it.”

Jaskier’s mind was racing as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just witnessed. This woman before him had managed to change her appearance within seconds by using magic. It did not make any sense. Nilfgaard had destroyed every magical being, artefact and grimoires they managed to find. They had done so leaving behind bloodbaths, destruction and ruins. Jaskier had learned all about the Great Cleansing as a boy, and later at Oxenfurt. Kaer Morhen had been one stage of the Great Cleansing, but many more places had suffered the same fate. Aretuza was destroyed several weeks later, although the mages had been expecting the armies and had fought more viciously against the invader. Some even believed that Nilfgaard had convinced sorceresses to turn against their own kind, only to be betrayed and killed once the massacre was over. Over a hundred years ago, Nilfgaard had managed to destroy every remnants of magic that was left in the Continent. No region had been overlooked, no magic-wielding creature spared. What Jaskier had just witnessed this woman do did not make any sense.

If this woman could still wield magic, what was to say that others could not?

Perhaps the patrons at the tavern had been right.

Perhaps magic was not dead, but merely practiced in secret to avoid repercussion. Magic-wielders most likely went into hiding to avoid the wrath of Nilfgaard.

And what better way to hide than to do so in plain sight by changing one’s appearance? In the same way this beautiful woman had turned into an old hag, powerful witchers could have turned into ferocious wolves to throw Nilfgaard off their scent.

Melitele be damned.

“This is… why? Why show me this? Aren’t you worried I’ll tell someone?” The sorceress shook her head, that knowing smile creeping back onto her lovely features. “Why not?”

“Do you really want to take that risk? Chances are if you came into contact with a witch, Nilfgaard will kill you too. They can’t risk anyone revealing that magic is not, in fact, a relic of the past.” Jaskier could not argue with the sorceress as he desperately tried to wrap his head around this turn of events. The red-haired woman spoke again, her voice softer but her expression graver. “We are linked by destiny, Julian Alfred Pankratz. I do not expect you to understand, nor am I here to provide an explanation. All you need to know is that this meeting was written in the stars decades before your conception.”

“I… no, this… this is not possible. I must be dreaming,” Jaskier muttered to himself, pinching himself for good measure. He wanted to wake up, although this dream would inspire a great ballad no doubt. This could not be truly happening to him. None of this made any sense.

“You are not dreaming, Julian. My name is Visenna, and I have been looking for you for the best part of the last year. I have a request that only you can fulfil.”

Jaskier's fear merely intensified at the woman's - Visenna's - words. He could feel his heart race in his chest as she stepped closer to him, her body moving with such precision and grace that Jaskier was convinced she was trying her best to seduce him into getting him to do her will.

"What do you want me to do?"

And apparently, whatever tempting magic she was using was working. Judging by the pleased expression on Visenna's face, she was fully aware of the power she had over Jaskier in that instant. Once she was close enough, Visenna cupped Jaskier’s face with both hands and even if the bard wanted to shy away from her touch, he was rooted to the spot and mesmerised by her deep green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I need you to go to Kaer Morhen. I am willing to pay you double of what the patron offered you. I will be in your debt, which is of course not negligible. I can make most of your wishes come true, one way or another."

As tempting as the offer was, Jaskier knew that fraternising with a sorceress could prove fatal if anyone ever found put. A fact she would undoubtedly be aware of, which made it really easy for her to break her end of the bargain. What was Jaskier to do if she did not keep true to her word? Legally speaking, he had no standing.

And the witch knew this, too.

"I'm not an adventurer, miss. I am but a bard. I'm afraid I won't be much use on the road, much less at night when bandits and wolves - actual non-shapeshifting wolves - come out to play. I'll have to give this opportunity a pass."

"You haven't even heard what I need you to do once in Kaer Morhen...," Visenna remarked, her tone calm and composed.

"I don't need to hear it. It's not an adventure for me. You'll have to find someone else."

Visenna was silent for a moment. Jaskier could have used this opportunity to break into a sprint to get the fuck away from Visenna as quickly as humanly possible. Yet, something about her eyes kept him rooted to the spot. There was wisdom in them, but something else also that Jaskier could not quite place. Perhaps hurt, or nostalgia, or boredom. She was making it very difficult for him to read her. Jaskier swallowed past the lump in his throat as Visenna pulled his face closer to hers. Her skin felt surprisingly soft against his cheek.

"It can't be anyone else, Julian. It has to be you."

These words were the last thing Jaskier heard before the world turned black.

OoO

When Jaskier woke up, his head was pounding and all the muscles in his body were aching. He tried to remember what could have possibly caused such a reaction from his body, but to no avail. The last thing he remembered was leaving the tavern after promising the patrons to return for the thousand crowns they had promised him if he successfully returned from Kaer Morhen. Jaskier could not remember much of what happened after that. The bard opened his eyes and blinked rapidly to adjust to the bright light. The sun was shining and warming his face, but also blinding him as he tried to sit upright. The bright beams did nothing to appease his sore head. Once Jaskier got used to the light, he observed his surroundings more closely and was surprised to find himself lying at the edge of a forest in a valley surrounded by mountains so high they disappeared into the clouds rolling over his head.

Jaskier could not remember drinking anything but ale at the tavern, but then he could not remember much apart from the wager he had made with the patrons. Perhaps he had gone back for a couple of drinks later that day. Clearly that time Jaskier had opted for the strongest drink in the fucking tavern. His mind could not fathom how he had managed to stray this far from the village. The warm sun was soon submerged by menacing dark clouds foreboding an oncoming storm.

Fantastic.

Jaskier rose to his feet and took several seconds to find his balance as the world spun around him. Judging by the position of the sun, it was late morning. He had performed at the tavern in the late afternoon. Clearly the mountains had been closer than initially anticipated for there was no way Jaskier had been drunk enough as to wander for hours on end without any recollection of his travels. He must have passed out and slept until now. It was a miracle he was still alive. Plenty of creatures roam the forests of the Continent. Jaskier decided not to while on these thoughts too much as he set out to find the nearest village. Any village would do at this point although he would preferably like to find the one he had performed in to retrieve his lute and other belongings from the room he had rented for the night. Jaskier did not have to wait long before he heard the deep rumbling of thunder in the distance. Heavy raindrops fell from the sky and soaked Jaskier to the bone in mere minutes. The sun had completely disappeared as the world turned dark and the storm took over. Jaskier struggled to see the path he was on because of the heavy rain, and it was only when he tripped over a branch sticking out of the muddy ground that he realised he had wandered deeper into the forest.

Shit.

He was not sure how far into the forest he had wandered, or more importantly which direction in. Panic took a hold of him as Jaskier scrambled to his feet and moaned at the sight of his expensive doublet covered in mud. There was no way he would get that stain out no matter how hard he scrubbed. That was one way to ruin a perfectly good doublet. Jaskier picked up the pace as he tried to find a way out of the heavy curtain of rain surrounding him. He panted heavily as he clumsily navigated the treacherous paths of the forest as well as he could. The occasional flashes of lightening followed by the booms of thunder only increased his anxiety levels. After what seemed like an eternity, Jaskier noticed the entrance to a cave carved out in the rocky mountain which would make an excellent shelter against the rain. That was all the encouragement Jaskier needed, and so he hurried inside the cave but made sure not to wander in too deep. He wrapped his arms around his body and shivered uncontrollably as his soaked clothes stuck stubbornly to his skin. If the creatures did not get to him first, he would probably die of hypothermia. Jaskier was so concerned with keeping himself warm that he did not notice the beast that was creeping up to him from behind. Only when his body was suddenly pushed to the hard ground with the force of a thousand men did Jaskier realise that he probably should have checked the area first before walking blindly into this cave.

"Oh boy.... Ooooooh boy."

The creature looming over him snarled and bared its teeth as drops of saliva dripped onto Jaskier's already soiled doublet. The first thing the bard noticed were the razor-sharp canines, the horrendous breath and two large paws pressing down on his chest. Only upon closer inspection did Jaskier realise that he had been tackled by a wolf. Not a traditional wolf, mind you. This one looked bigger, stronger and more aggressive than the wolves Jaskier was familiar with, which was saying something. A flash of lightening, and Jaskier noticed the yellow eyes and the long scar on the left side of the wolf's face. Another flash, and Jaskier could make out the colour of its coat: mostly white with streaks of silver. The bard figured that if he was to die here and then at the hand - or paws - of this beast, he might as well take a closer look at it. Not that the wolf’s appearance would matter much once it had feasted on Jaskier for supper and no one lived to tell the tale. Surprisingly, the creature yet had to attack.

"Easy... I'm not here to hurt you, I just wanted shelter from the rain. Please don't eat me..."

Jaskier knew the wolf could not understand a word he was saying, but it made the bard feel better to feel like he was stalling the creature's attack. It seemed to be working considering that the wolf stubbornly refrained from attacking him despite snarling viciously in warning. Jaskier avoided staring directly into the beast’s yellow eyes, showing submission in the hope it would be enough to convince the huge beast towering him that he was no threat.

“If I’d known that you were in here, I would not have come in trust me. You’re a biiiig, big boy… I swear I don’t want to hurt you. I… I’m lost. I don’t know how I got here, and I just need to – “

A loud high-pitched whine coming from the other end of the cave interrupted Jaskier’s nervous babbling. The wolf above him tensed at the sound and turned its massive head in the direction of the sound. Jaskier could faintly make out the shape of another, much smaller creature. Probably a second wolf. That thought was terrifying and if it was true what they said about animals being able to smell fear, then those beasts were in for a treat. Jaskier was surprised he had not wet himself at this point. He shifted slightly to get a better look at the other wolf, but as soon as the beast above him sensed his movements it snapped its attention back to Jaskier and growled in warning. Jaskier instantly froze at the sound.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

The other wolf let out another wail, sharper this time. It sounded like it was in pain. The helpless whine the wolf pinning Jaskier down let out was another indication that something was wrong. The bard took comfort in the fact that the beasts had shown no signs of wanting to eat him yet.

“Is your friend hurt?” he asked the larger wolf, unsure what kind of answer he was expecting. The irritated huff he was met with was most likely unrelated to his question, but Jaskier liked to think the animals could understand him. Suddenly the bard remembered the vial some old woman at the tavern had handed him as payment for his performance. A special kind of medicine that heals most wounds.

“Hey, I… I got something in my pocket that I could use to help your friend.”

Jaskier noticed the way the large wolf’s ears twitched at his words. The piercing yellow eyes seemed to stare directly into his soul. Although the animal still looked unsure, at least he was not showing any teeth or any signs of aggressive behaviour. Almost as an afterthought, he got off Jaskier and sat on its haunches expectantly. The bard could not quite believe his luck as he watched the beast wait patiently for him to get up. It was probably confident that it could outrun Jaskier if the bard tried to flee. Rightly so, if Jaskier was perfectly honest. With slow precise movements, the bard fished the vial out of his pocket and rose to his feet. The beast’s head, even from its sitting position, reached up to Jaskier’s chest. The bard felt his knees go weak.

“I’m going to put some of that oil on your friend’s wound, okay? Don’t try to eat me while I’m doing that. I have to say I don’t know if it’ll hurt your friend or not. I hope it won’t. We can all get along, alright? I’m in the same boat as you and I don’t want anyone to get hurt today.”

The wolf blinked, never taking his eyes off Jaskier. The bard decided to attempt an approach but advanced one small step at a time to properly gauge the wolf’s reactions. The yellow-eyed beast made no movement to stop Jaskier’s approach on the wounded animal, and Jaskier visibly relaxed at the realisation. Now that the bard was closer, he could see the second wolf more clearly. It was not only smaller, but thinner too. It looked like a young pup who was not fully grown yet. Its flaxen coat was silky apart from where it had been wounded. Dark dried blood stained the otherwise spotless fur while pus oozed out of the wound. The young wolf was panting and did not manage to raise its head from the ground, but its eyes sought Jaskier’s nonetheless. The bard offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Hey little one. I’m Julian Alfred Pankratz, but my friends call me Jaskier. I have this special medicine here that’s supposed to make your wound all better. You’re lucky I got lost in these parts of the woods.” Jaskier uncorked the vial and smelled the oil within it. A faint odour of chamomile hit his nostrils. He decided to apply the oil directly to the wound. The younger wolf twitched when the cold oil hit the sensitive wound, but Jaskier took confidence in the fact that it never let out a single sound. Probably not painful, then. To Jaskier’s amazement, the pus around the wound slowly started disappearing, allowing the skin to magically close itself until all that was left were the blood-caked fur and a bald patch where the wound had been seconds earlier. It was like the wolf had never been hurt at all.

Jaskier stared at the now empty vial in sheer shock. What the fuck had just happened?

“Uh… I guess you’re fine now, huh?”

The younger wolf raised its head and looked at where its wound used to be, sniffing the bald patch curiously and giving it several probing licks. Jaskier flinched when he saw the silver wolf approach them, keeping a close eye on the human who had just helped its friend as he nuzzled the younger wolf’s head affectionately. Outside, the sun was shining again, brighter than ever. Jaskier longed to leave this cave as quickly as his legs would carry him, but before he could act on that thought he felt a large wet tongue lick the side of his face, leaving behind a trail of slobber reaching from his chin to the crown of his head. The younger wolf was now on its legs and was determined to clean Jaskier from head to toe as its tail wagged furiously in barely contained joy. The bard let out a nervous laugh when the wolf jumped at him and gently tackled him to the ground, trying to playfully nibble his hand. Realising the younger wolf only meant to play, Jaskier tried to relax and even brought himself to scratch the spot behind the beast’s ear, earning himself more approving licks from the grateful animal.

Playtime was interrupted by the silver wolf, who by producing a low rumbling noise similar to a growl let the younger wolf know that they were done fooling around with the human. The younger wolf seemingly understood and instantly hurried to the silver wolf’s side. Those yellow eyes locked with Jaskier’s again, almost as if silently thanking him for his service, and before long the two beasts took off into the woods leaving behind a more than baffled Jaskier.

What the fuck had just happened?

TBC.

#the witcher #the witcher au #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #Jaskier #dandelion #geralt x dandelion #geralt x jaskier #shapeshifter geralt #jaskier x geralt #dandelion x geralt #wiedzmin #taglist #wip

[stefanbekowsky]

accidentally made another witcher oc last night and can’t stop thinking about her so i had to write this!!! her failed execution hehe 🤭 her name is orla and she’s a nilfgaardian sorceress, a bit like fringilla being used by emhyr... “emhyr’s curiosity” more than an actual ally. i’m gonna steal the unused “yennefer betrays the lodge” plot because it’s dumb and use it for orla 😝 either phil kills her or she flees and emhyr kills her but yeah she’s got a very bad ending! at least one of my witcher oc’s has to have one and she’s kinda... not doing anything to help herself lol (also her fc now is natalie dormer.... maybe will be changed though 🤫 now it’s eva green...)

Novigrad was never quiet. It was a cultural melting pot of people from all walks of life, whether they be human, elven, dwarven... Rich folk and common alike. Even the supernatural found it difficult to stay away.

Geralt hadn’t left since his arrival two weeks ago. The city was good for a witcher, business wise. There were no end to mysteries folk wanted solved, rumors of supernatural beasts and murders in broad daylight were prime contracts - oft the best and most steady coin a witcher could ask for.

The marketplace was busy at the best of times, but this afternoon they’d grown exceedingly loud, so much so that Geralt could no longer ignore it.

He could hear the shouting, the jeering, and the laughter from several streets away. It was only as he approached the entrance did he hear something else: muffled sobs of those in the crowd hiding their faces, unable to look.

Guardsmen pushed past, their shoulders holding up piles of wood. They marched to the area just outside of Vivaldi’s Bank, dumping the logs on an already large pile. It struck him then that he was to witness yet another execution, most likely of a sorceress. He just hoped it wasn’t one he knew, his mind going to old, and perhaps best forgotten, acquaintances. Philippa, Margarita… Fringilla…

A man Geralt recalled from his first visit to Novigrad appeared on the platform. He was brandishing a rolled up piece of parchment in one fist and an unlit torch in the other. Caleb Menge.

“Good people of Novigrad,” He bellowed out to the bustling crowd. “Our quest to rid this fair city of it’s magical pests has developed once again, bringing a new success to your ears and sights. For too long, you’ve lived under the thumb of wicked sorcery and those who abuse it. Radovid stands for it no longer!”

The crowd cheered, several bumping into Geralt as they jumped up and down in glee. A woman collapsed on to the floor in floods of tears and went largely ignored by those around her until a young man rushed to her side.

“Tonight, I present to you a tarnished jewel in the crown of the Nilfgaardian Empire,” The man grinned, a sight that turned Geralt’s stomach. “A snake sent from Emhyr himself, to slither into your very homes and do his malevolent bidding - tearing our city to pieces for nought more than cruel entertainment. A sorceress of vile deeds, an enchantress and thief who consorts with demons.”

The noise around Geralt became even more unbearable, as more people joined the gathering and he found himself tunnelled in, moving closer to the front of the crowd. He pulled his hood up, hoping to conceal his identity to Menge who could surely spot his face.

“And I give you my word, she will burn!”

A woman with a plain cloth sack over her head appeared behind Menge, two guardsmen holding her arms with an ironclad grip. She seemed to be cooperating well, being the one to lead the guards rather than the other way around.

“I present to you: Orla var Malhoun!” Menge roared.

The plain cloth sack was ripped from her head and Geralt had the immediate displeasure of recognising her. Her dark hair was stuck to her forehead, frizzy and unevenly cut as if hacked off with a knife. Her eyes were dark, bruised and unreadable from this distance but one clearly swollen shut. Her lips much the same - puffy and bleeding, a several tracks of dried blood resting on her dirty chin. Her frame was gaunt and battered, but Geralt would know her face from anywhere.

Orla var Malhoun, once a beloved curiosity of Emhyr, bloody and broken before a jeering crowd.

Her lips contorted and at first, Geralt braced himself for the sight of her throwing up. She looked as though she would collapse before she reached the pyre, and those around him would surely riot for being robbed of her slow and painful death.

Instead, her eyes roamed the crowd fleetingly and her expression quickly developed into a smirk. She threw back her head, cackling loudly, her bony shoulders shaking.

Not as broken as I thought, Geralt mused, unsure if he should feel sympathy or pride. Or maybe she’s finally lost it. Not even sorceresses are immune to prolonged torture.

Menge took a step back and slapped her across the face, her entire body crumbling as she leant back into the hold of the guards.

“Hold your tongue, bitch!” He snarled, turning to the guards behind her. “Put her up on the pyre.”

She was pushed up on to the ledge, her head lolling against her chest and she offered no resistance as her hands and feet were bound to the pole. Geralt grew frustrated.

He’d expected she’d die one day at the hands of another, for Orla had never done well at staying out of other people’s (or nation’s) business, but not like this: meek, not memorable nor remotely shocking. He expected hell to break lose, to give the crowd a show, as awful as that sounded to him as he thought on it. But what could he do? Orla’s life wasn’t worth his own, nor his quest to find Ciri. He’d sooner kiss a drowner than let Ciri be captured by the Wild Hunt because he had to save Orla var Malhoun, of all people. Of all sorceresses.

Wanting a show, a guardsman poked her side with his spear. She stirred, her head raising to lean against the pole.

Menge turned to address her.

“Do you confess upon this pyre, your treacherous abilities and loyalties to Nilfgaard?”

She said nothing, gazing at him impassively with a lazy smile on her face.

“Do you, Orla var Malhoun, confess to the crimes you have been found guilty of?” He pressed, louder and angrier.

“I confess to everything, you fat-headed idiot,” Orla laughed. “But I have no guilt to speak of, only pride and longing.”

She turned her attention to the crowd, the booing only seeming to better her mood. Her one good eye shone in the light and her broken teeth glittered.

“Glory to Nilfgaard, and to the White Flame Dancing on the Graves of his Foes!” She shouted with mirth. The crowd retorted with louder boos and rotten fruit, several tomatoes staining her already soiled white dress. “You’ll all die on your knees, you rotten Northern pigs! Fuck you all!”

Orla snarled the last part, the joy now gone from her face. “All who oppose him will fall, and you will suffer for this humiliation! I will not die, I will return! With blood!”

“Shut the fuck up,” A guardsman called as another threw a lit torch and the flames began the crackle. Smoke was thrown up into the air, and it tickled Geralt’s throat.

Orla thrashed against her her restraits, wiggling her bare feet and shoulders as the flames grew around her but kept suspiciously quiet. The smoke had become so thick, Geralt could no longer see her and he gritted his teeth in annoyance, knowing she wouldn’t go out like this: utterly silent. The guardsmen seemed equally as annoyed by her silence, bringing out several large fans likely to increase the strength of the flames and waft away the smoke for easier viewing. As they did this, a distinct smell reached Geralt’s nose. It smelt of… saltpeter? Who would be making a bomb at an execution?

He narrowed his eyes, using his witcher senses to hone in on the scent. A red trail of a smoke-like substance appeared before him, snaking through the crowd between the throngs of people. Geralt followed it.

Pushing past spectators, he found himself at the edge of the crowd. There were several empty stalls, devoid of produce and products, that the trail had touched. He continued on, passing by stragglers of the crowd, until he reached a heavy wooden door just outside of the marketplace. A beggar sat outside on the dirt, a misshapen hat on her head and an empty cloth bag at her feet. Her clothes were torn and resembled potato bags tied together with rope. One of Novigrad’s many forgotten folk.

“You know who lives here?” Geralt asked her.

“Depends,” She answered, not sparing him a look.

“Guessing you want coin.”

“Aye. Several.”

He sighed. “5 Crowns enough?”

“Not a chance.”

Geralt tossed 10 Crowns in the cloth bag. The beggar checked and seemed pleased by his generosity, turning up to face him.

She jabbed her thumb behind her shoulder. “Lady named Hedwig lives there. Word is, she’s a witch.”

Geralt didn’t have time to react. A loud explosion sounded from the marketplace, the ground rumbling and sparks of light shooting up into the sky. He heard screams before the thunderous footfall of a hundred odd spectators drowned it out and people poured out from the entrance. He pushed himself against the wall to avoid being trampled and looked down at the beggar woman, seeing she’d already fled.

#tbd #posted it on the wrong blog whoops

[zalrb]

Since you have seen both GOT & Witcher how do you think they compare?

I don’t think they do, I just think they’re both fantasy and people act like that makes them comparable. GoT ended up becoming a complete mess but for a while, there was logic to the world, there were rules, there were clear storylines and plot points, Westeros was a continent that was pretty fully-realized and the centre plot point of the show was gaining and/or maintaining power over Westeros, which had offshoots of other storylines like the Starks vs. the Lannisters which leads to Arya and the Faceless/Death and Robb and the battles and Sansa and the Boltons etc. etc.

What, exactly, is the Witcher even about?  We don’t see half of the things we’re meant to see for anything to make any kind of sense or to be concrete. We don’t spend time in Nilfgaard to really know anything about them except that halfway through the season we find out they’re radical religious people but they have no sense of identity or culture. In ATLA we know who the Fire Nation is before we even get to the season that takes place in the Fire Nation. We don’t really see the monotony of a witch serving a corrupt kingdom, we don’t even really see the academy of witches, we don’t see what they’re taught except for lightning in a bottle and flowers so when Yennefer comes back to the academy and gets these girls high, saying “they” don’t want you to know the other stuff you can do, how do we know she’s telling the truth if we never even saw that?

What are the rules in this world?For instance, Fringilla becoming a radical, stating that Nilfgaard has the advantage because she doesn’t follow the same rules that the other witches do --- what rules do those witches follow that she doesn’t follow? We never actually see what she’s talking about. In the same vein, what is chaos. But actually. Because when Yennefer is told to let her chaos go, it just seems like she’s being told to be emotional. Is that all that is? Is it just uncontrollable magic? But even when she’s told she’s “pure chaos right now”, she’s not doing anything uncontrollable. What is the point of that council if they do nothing? Like Yennefer is supposed to be pure chaos (despite there not really being any indication of this) but they do nothing about it? That wizard dude killed female babies born during an eclipse and there’s a snide remark about that during the council meeting but none of them did anything to keep him in line so why does the council exist? Why do witches who don’t ascend get turned into eels, what purpose do the eels serve? What exactly is a witcher, why are they hated, why does no one seem to know that Geralt is a witcher anyway? What the fuck is the Child of Surprise? Like I get it, I get the Law of Surprise in its basic concept --- you save someone’s life, the person whose life you saved doesn’t have money to give you and so you can call upon the Law of Surprise as repayment, the Law of Surprise is when the person whose life you saved has something valuable that they didn’t know they had and that then becomes yours. But when it’s a baby, it just now seems like Geralt is stuck with a child he doesn’t necessarily want. How exactly is that child bringing him good fortune when I thought the whole point was that the Law of Surprise was supposed to benefit the person who calls on it. Sure, maybe we find out how she helps Geralt later on but right now it just seems like he’s beholden to Ciri because destiny dictates he is and he has to be there for her and protect her as opposed to her doing anything for him and he didn’t want a kid anyway! So he saved someone’s life and then got himself into debt when he asked for repayment?

Also little things. That king sending an assassin after his wife and baby will ALWAYS be stupid no matter how many rationalizations people come up with --- killing two birds with one stone, can blame it on another kingdom and get rid of her, um, unless the point is to find an excuse to wage war on another kingdom, homeboy could’ve just poisoned his wife and child if not just simply denounce them, it makes more sense, it’s way less convoluted. Yennefer does not make sense as a character, she is utterly ridiculous and we spend so much time with her and never on the right things, she created her own problems. The timelines are STUPID and also seem to be completely unnecessary. There is no reason why this couldn’t be told in a linear way. I still have no idea why Renfri existed at all. AND WHAT IS THE SHOW ACTUALLY ABOUT?

[goldenornstein]

Gold scales and soft flesh || The Witcher AU.

Golden dragons were the children of the Sun, hence different in nature to the rest of their kind — if not something else entirely. Few ever lived among other creatures, let alone in the open, but rather preferred to conceal their existences by virtue of polymorphic abilities.

One of them did choose to ally himself with a small Nation; Nilfgaard, seeing how its inhabitants worshipped the Sun. 

Ornnsteintensth, the Golden Dragon, or quite simply Ornstein, as most would call him, was deemed a true blessing bestowed by the Sun upon the faithful, for such an ancient being possessed knowledge, wisdom and strength beyond their comprehension. And he was willing to share his gifts! He was willing to guide and protect, developing respect of his own for the Nilfgaardians.

The nation thrived and soon enough gained an imperial status. It was then when the leaders decided that Ornstein’s aid wasn’t what they needed, not anymore. Thus, they sought a manner to control his mind and slave him to do their bidding — yet failed at it. Fearing the dragon’s fury, several Nilfgaardians mages sacrificed themselves to cast a curse that sealed him in his human form, hoping he’d be easier to kill that way.

Even in that weakened state, the dragon still managed to escape.

He’s been living a nomadic existence for centuries, hiding his true identity and nature from everyone but a select few. 

Incapable of returning to his true form, Ornstein is always looking for a way to break the curse, while struggling to tolerate the inescapable confinement of a prison made of flesh and bone; his own body. 

Plotting points:

Despite his distrust, Ornstein does not hold a generalised grudge against humans, so he won’t show gratuitous animosity towards them. Nonetheless, Nilfgaardians will be instantly regarded as suspicious. 

He doesn't use his true name, Ornnsteintensth, but only Ornstein. This is for various reasons, particularly the need to avoid any spells cast by using names. Hence only a few people (the closest to him) would know it.

It’s nearly impossible to discover Ornstein’s true nature while he’s in another form, unless he chooses to reveal it. This includes his current human body, which he cannot transform, in any way, due to the curse that sealed him. Polymorphism is an innate ability, rare even among dragons. Hence, it does not register as magic of any kind to people attuned with such powers, nor can be detected by spells or enchanted objects. The only possible way to find out would be by prodding in Ornstein’s mind — at an enormous risk, even if he happened to be unconscious or weakened. As a golden dragon, he possesses strong telepathic abilities and the otherworldly mind of an eldritch creature, unaltered by the curse. Whoever tried to invade his mind, would most likely end up losing their own, rather than extracting any secrets.

Then, the curse itself might not be impossible to detect, even though it isn’t evident either. Provided, its exact nature wouldn’t be clear… something like the vague awareness of this man is cursed, somehow.

However aloof and distrustful, Ornnsteintensth is an innately curious creature — thus he could be lured or even befriended through means of offering to satisfy his curiosity. Furthermore, one might say that he collects (if not hoards) knowledge of all kinds. His life has been exceedingly long yet his memory never falters, like an ancient living library that keeps expanding.

Rumours of an accomplished cursed-breaker, referring to him, could exist. Already knowledgeable in the magic arts, Ornstein has become an expert in curses — after years of tireless research and experimentation. He’s capable of breaking nearly any enchantment, except his own, and has helped other people before, albeit never revealing much about himself. 

He’s a pointed interest in the Elder Blood and obscure/ancient magic, suspecting it could be helpful to break his curse.

Stats:

NAME. Ornnsteintensth, known by few.

NICKNAME. Ornstein. He's commonly known by it.

GENDER. Male dragon, albeit not particularly interested in the concept of binary genders. 

HEIGHT. 1.91 mt — 6′3.

AGE. ANCIENT. Yet looks like a man in his late 20s.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. Every single one, as part of his innate skills.

HAIR. Rich red. Slightly wavy and long past his waist.

EYES. Light amber, with a slight true gold tint.

SKIN TONE. Light-medium, warm undertones.

BODY TYPE. Strong and wiry muscular. Long limbs, broad shoulders, narrow waist, wider hips, overall hourglass shape. 

VOICE. Clear, deep, somewhat cold and usually quiet.

DOMINANT HAND. Doesn’t present lateralisation of brain function.

POSTURE. Perfectly straight, graceful.

SCARS AND MARKS. A trail of scales that go all the way down his spine, looking very much like little chunks of gold embedded on his skin. 

BIRTHMARKS. None. Actually, his skin, features and general countenance are eerily smooth and symmetrical, giving him a somewhat inhuman appearance.  

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Eyes, scales. 

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. demi-pansexual. Seldom interested in sex. 

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. demi-panromantic.

PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.  submissive  | dominant | switch.

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive |  dominant | switch.

TURN ON’S. Honesty, strength, affection.

TURN OFF’S. Pettiness, lies, forced commitment. When in an actual committed relationship, infidelity is the biggest turn off and a definite deal-breaker.

LOVE LANGUAGE. Mostly through sensual touch and emotional intimacy.

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. Caring, devoted, protective.

MENTAL ILLNESSES. Depression, severe body dysphoria.

PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. None.

USUAL MOOD/EXPRESSION. Stoic, disciplined, perfectionist and determinate to a fault. Loyal, protective and driven by strong beliefs. Strict with others, but especially with himself. After the curse, his temper shifted to a rather melancholic disposition. He also became distrustful and aloof, unwilling to share much of himself with others. 

SAVVIES: A vast array of disciplines and miscellaneous knowledge, including advanced strategy and war tactics, history, politics, linguistics, fine arts, alchemy, spell-casting, occultism, etc.

PROMINENT SKILLS. Polymorphism, telepathy, energy manipulation, arcane magic, martial arts, among others, albeit greatly restricted by his human form.

SPECIAL TRAITS. Immune to poison and illness, fast healing, semi-immortal; he doesn’t age but could be killed, inhuman physical and mental abilities.

#new verse info #catch me observing the few canon names for them lizards and trying to find a common pattern #(cries) #v: Gold scales and soft flesh // The Witcher

[crownviper-blog]

The thing about Roche and Iorveth is that they’re two sides of the same coin; they are far more similar than either would care to admit. I find it difficult to love one and hate the other -- you’re often inclined to feel very similarly about them both. 

It’s really only odd when you look at them from the, well, not end-game standpoint, but beginning-game standpoint. Upon meeting both men, you see Roche as a patriot who’s fighting back threats to his country. For Iorveth, you see an elven revel who is lashing out at those who’ve robbed him of his home. Roche is depicted as ruthless and capable of doing anything for Temeria. Iorveth is painted as incredibly scathing and endless in his bitterness. On the surface, it’s really hard to like either of the men, but take a step back (or play through their routes) and you find out:

Roche probably isn’t as awful as legend claims him to be. Whether picking up later on or drawing off of outside knowledge, you learn that the elves and humans (in this case the Temerians) have bad blood between them. Roche isn’t attacking Iorveth just because he is an elf, but he is attacking Iorveth because of the consequences of an earlier war -- the Northern Wars, to be specific. Aligning themselves with the Southern Invaders (the Nilfgaardians) a band of Scoia’tael attacked the Northern Kingdoms which included Temeria. [Also, as a side-note, guess who was a member of the Vriheed Brigade, an elven division attached to the Nilfgaardians? Iorveth.] After the strife, however, the North was left in turmoil and its economy was dealt a rather huge blow. Though undeniably both irresponsible and unethical, the North blamed their worsening conditions on non-humans which had the negative effect of further encouraging Scoia’tael attacks. Roche’s entire time in The Blue Stripes was to combat these attacks, and because he is their enemy, warped tales and ugly rumors were bound to accompany him. Remember: in times of great peril, it is common practice to demonize the enemy, and with Roche being said to literally eat the ears of his enemies, I’d venture to say he got that very treatment. Still, he was known to have led the pacification the Mahakam Foothills in bloody fashion, but Roche would tell you war is war (and that you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs).

Still, you can’t blame Iorveth and, by extension, the Scoia’tael, can you? They’ve felt wronged for ages, and without a home to lay claim to, these elven rebels desired a nation to live in and call their own. Aligning themselves with the Nilfgaardians in the Northern War, they were given an avenue to accomplish this lofty dream: in exchange for their aid, they were to be granted the land of Dol Blathanna with their very own Queen at the throne. However, at the end of the war with the North winning, Nilfgaard sacrificed the Scoia’tael and those in the Vriheed Brigade. Essentially, by betraying them, the elven rebels were dealt a knife to the back. It’s with great understanding then why the hatred between non-humans and humans spiraled to fantastic degrees, and why the hatred for those that’d robbed them of both home and land drove the Scoia’tael to violence. Playing Iorveth’s route, however, you come to the realization that that violence had a cause: to once again find a free state, this time in Aedirn where humans and non-humans can live together in peace. Iorveth has a fantastic dream he’d do anything to see come to fruition even if that means cracking a few skulls and spilling blood. Much blood.

I mean, in the end, Roche and Iorveth both aren’t good people. Am I going to sit here excuse their leniency for aggression and killing? Of course not. Yet, they are fighting one another for very good reasons, and they are enemies simply because of history and fate. Had it not been for the Nilfgaardian betrayal or the Nilfgaardian invasion, I’m certain they wouldn’t have clashed blades as violently as they did. 

Which brings me to the point of The Witcher 3: clearly, the two have a lot of reasons to hate Nilfgaard, and in the third installment in particular, I’d argue there could’ve been room for an alliance. No, I doubt it would’ve been formal or even recognized, but in a distant way, they could’ve had an ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ sort of truce. In this case, they would’ve been the same side of the same coin, working in tandem to push back the Southerners or, in Iorveth’s case, too, to also reap revenge. They may not have fought side by side, shoulder to shoulder, but their efforts would have certainly worked together toward a shared goal. 

Anyway, I find it impossible to separate these two. It’s practically impossible for me to hate one and love the other -- they share many of the same qualities. Both have grand ideals and both are relentless in pursuing them. Both have their enemies and both would do anything to crush them. Both are very ‘ends justify the means,’ and both would not flinch to deliver even the most painful of blows. Roche and Iorveth go hand in hand, and that’s just how they are.

#( meta. ) #i just wanted to touch base on roche and iorveth #and how there are quite a few people that bag on one but shower the other in approval? #it boggles my mind like how can u do that. theyre so alike no matter how much they hate each other #a formal essay in everyone hates nilfgaard: a joint effort by roche and iorveth #*clutches chest* tho i really do love roche