Wishing for The Witcher

Blueberries and Summer Rain

Witchers, cold-blooded killers with a strength that could rivial most bears. The only emotion they feel drives them to kill. They have unsatiable blood-lust. Souless eyes and bland hair, a Witcher can be spotted from a mile away just by the aura they give off, screaming at all others to run away from the predator. This is all Jaskier was fed while attending Aretuza. Most Mages were overly cautious around Witchers, to put it lightly. He'd been alarmed by some of the tales his fellow mages would spew out when they'd come into contact with one of the few Witchers left. Even after escaping the bore of court and getting a grasp on his chaos he was careful to stray from towns where a Witcher might be needed. After all, they hunt monsters, and Jaskier considered himself to be a rare breed of one.

So how is it, Jaskier wondered absently, that in such an off the map town as Arbrehem he'd come across a giant with piercing yellow eyes and hair stripped of all color as the bark of a dying tree? Well some may say fate or destiny, he'd rather just chalk it up to his rotten luck. Not just any Witcher either, naturally the Gods had to ensure he'd met Geralt of Rivia. Whom most were still not convinced was a "friend to humanity" despite the tune that spread through the land.

He feel a heavy blow as the aforementioned Witcher poughs into him, causing you slam into a large oak tree with him tumbling after Jaskier.  He was so wrapped up in his own mind he'd forgotten about the truly dangerous attritubute of a bloedzuiger. The smell of burning skin hit his nose as a deep grunt fills the air. Geralts final slash through the creature was its end, and the acid burning through the ground where
Jaskier had stood only mere moments before, showed how close he was to joining the monster. A shiver ran through him as he looked up to meet Geralts amber eyes.  Geralt looked to be in pain; no matter how good the Witcher was at hiding it; the eyes never lied. His massive arms were on either side of Jaskier's tiny frame. Jaskier puffed his chest slightly, embarrased by the racing of his heart caused not just by the stupidity he'd just presented. He needed to quickly see how bad the injury was.

"Where?"

He spoke quickly pushing upward and ignoring the sharp pain lacing through his back. Geralts massive body shoving his spine straight into a tree was no doubt going to leave a nasty bruise.

"Leg."

Geralts voice seemed to drop two octaves, betraying him in showing his pain. Jaskier could easily see why when he gazed down at his calf seeing a large hole. Crawling down to the White-haired mans leg he ran his hands over the wound. Channeling his magic and leaving behind a red scar. Well its not like Geralt didnt already have a plethura of them. Frankly, they fit him. It would be strange to see a Geralt without scars, like a bard without a lute. They set off something in Jaskier, the more he looked at them the more he felt heat pool in his belly and a redness grace his cheeks. That seemed to be happening a lot more around the White Wolf.

Geralt's eyes seemed to dialite as he sniffed the air, which also seemed to be happening a lot lately. Turning to Jaskier he pulled himself to his feet, towering over the sharp tongued mage and making him aware of just how fragile he is; even with all his chaos. "You smell" he spoke gruffly. Jaskier stumbled to his feet, cheeks burning deeper. "Lets get the coins from this quickly and get an inn with a bath then." Jaskier didnt mean to sound to clipped but his embarrassment overruled his niceties. As it often did with Geralt.

The older Witcher looked as if he had more to say but only shook his head, shething his sword and picking up a piece of the bloedzuiger for proof of the monsters death.

~

The bath was incredibly hot. Almost unbearable even after waiting a while. There was only one tub, large enough for Geralt and the small mage. Jaskier was anxious to join the Witcher but the comment the gruff man had made encouraged him. As well as the mud from the swamp uncomfortably covering his skin. Stripping his clothes in front of Geralt made the heat return before he'd even gotten in the bath. Jaskier tried to rationalize with himself that they were just two men in a bath together. Nothing strange about it. Even though he looked more as a child then a man next to Geralts chisled body.