Þriðjudagur: Books
Hey, fanfiction lovers. I am foxxygoddess and today's theme is Books. Prompts can be from your favorite book series to a character getting lost in a book to cursed books that attack.
Just a few rules:No more than five prompts in a row ( Read more... )
Just a few rules:No more than five prompts in a row ( Read more... )
You Must Not Read From the Book (Heard Nobody)
"No. Absolutely not."
"Istredd," Yennefer started to say.
"It's just a book," Ciri said with a shrug. "No harm ever came from reading a book."
"And it never will, because you're never reading it." Istredd pointed at everyone else in the room in turn. "And I'm never reading it to any of you."
"Okay, Istredd," Triss replied calmly, placatingly. "Let's just... Talk about something else."
"Would you like to pet the cat?" Ciri scooped up the long-haired feline that stepped out from under the bed to rub against her shins. Istredd blinked at it in bewilderment.
"I know that cat. And yes, I would." He stepped closer to where Ciri stood, the tabby already purring in her arms.
"How are you feeling?" Triss asked, watching his trembling hand reach out to carefully stroke the cat's perfectly fluffy fur.
He knew what what they were doing -- he could see how they were looking at him -- but half of the tension drained from him anyway. He offered his friend a small smile.
"Better. Thanks to you and Yenna." Istredd looked to the latter. "If I ever need to take that abhorrent potion again, just let me die, all right?"
"Ah. The second one. That was Geralt's contribution to your road to recovery," Yennefer said, amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Of course it was."
He tensed again, however, at the door opening with short knock barely preceding it.
"How's it--? Oh, he actually looks alive now. That's good." Jaskier made a vague motion behind him. "The other one's awake, and he's a bit panicky, so if one or all of you lovely ladies could deal with that, that'd be grand."
"Jaskier? You said he was off with Geralt." Istredd's narrowed brows rose when he processed Jaskier's words. He made a move toward the door and stopped just as quickly in front of the bard blocking his path. "Where is he?"
"Geralt's down in the--"
"--Not--Well, yes, but--Where's Cahir? He's the panicky one, right? I can--"
"--You?" Jaskier leaned back to get a better look at Istredd's face. Realization dawned in his expression. "Oh. Oh, I see."
"You see nothing. You know nothing."
"Now what's going on?" Yennefer spoke up, leaning around Istredd to address Jaskier.
"Your ex and your not-hanged-man were imprisoned together. Like, together together."
Yennefer and Triss shared a look that only grew more amused when they heard Ciri's confused comment.
"Really? Him and the black knight?"
"I can see it. Prisoners of war, constantly near death, forming a bond. I suppose they were each due for a cliché romance."
"It's not like that, Triss."
"It's definitely like that, Triss," Jaskier told her in a stage whisper.
"Oh, Istredd. I'd expect as much from Cahir, but you?"
"Yenna, I'm telling you, it's not..."
"Perhaps it would be better for him to go first, instead of any of you, and not at all because I'm morbidly curious about what that even looks like."
"Jaskier," Istredd growled in warning. "Where is he?"
"Fine, fine. I'll escort you to his bedchamber and shield my eyes as I leave. Oh, but do let me know if you require anything. More food, some wine, perhaps oil--" Istredd finally shoved him into the doorframe and stepped out into the corridor. Jaskier recovered quickly. "This way, follow me."
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"Oh, what a mess," Yennefer commented lightly as she doubled over and sank onto the small bed, not caring about the dirt, blood, and sweat staining the bedding. Istredd truly had been in bad shape when they finally found and rescued him. Triss joined her, sitting at the foot of the bed with a smile that had grown sad and soft.
"Honestly? I'm glad Istredd wasn't alone."
"Me, too," Yennefer agreed.
Ciri pulled the lone chair in the room closer to the side of the bed and sat with them. The change in position did not disturb the cat. It opted to lie in her lap and on her lower torso rather than seek out another source of warmth and attention.
"I... I don't know if Geralt told you, but," Ciri watched the slow movement of her own hands in soft fur as she spoke, "Cahir offered his life to me. For his part in what he'd done to mine. He... put my sword to his own neck." She glanced up, the mages' solemn expressions matching her own. "He didn't deserve a quick death, but he also didn't deserve to be taken and tortured by Vilgefortz. You said that Tissaia had already... taken out her grief on him."
Of their strange company, Triss and Yennefer knew the details of what Istredd and Cahir had each suffered the best. Geralt and Milva had ideas as well, for some of it. Only time would tell the effects of the horrors and atrocities they had endured -- and had been forced to witness.
"Then it's good that Cahir wasn't alone, either, and we were able to find him, too." Yennefer squeezed Ciri's arm. "Right?"
"Right." Ciri sighed softly and raised her head a little more. "So. About the book..."
"Istredd is the expert," Triss said, shaking her head. "That is by no means an exaggeration."
"We've flipped through it, and between Geralt, Milva, Triss, and myself? We can read maybe... every fifth word?"
"Every seventh. And then guess wildly about some of the repeating symbols and squint our eyes trying to decipher the diagrams."
"Jaskier told me he has a theory," Ciri remembered suddenly. "He said it came to him in 'an artistic fever dream'..."
"When he was drunk, got it..."
"Something about a battlefield and a mysterious elven muse, actually."
"Ah, so also a tempestuous love affair..."
"As if there is any other kind with Jaskier," Triss commented.
"True," Yennefer concurred with a nod. "I doubt he has shared his theory with Istredd yet, due to not wanting to interrupt that... reunion..."
Triss and Ciri nodded.
"But if we can persuade him to share it with us... and Geralt and Milva... I believe the entertainment will tide us over until the main show starts."
"He hasn't told anyone yet," Ciri said, excitement coloring her tone. "It sounded like he wanted to wait for a larger audience."
"I'm rather curious now," Triss admitted. "Jaskier has a peculiar talent for gathering esoteric knowledge. It's very different from Istredd's and Geralt's versions of it."
"Because Jaskier actually talks to people, not reads dusty old books or throws around nightmarish monsters." Ciri paused. "Although, Geralt spends a lot of time in libraries, too."
"Istredd also spends a lot of time in forgotten ruins full of dangers of their own," Yennefer added thoughtfully.
"Istredd and Geralt... have never..." Triss couldn't voice the question. It was too absurd. And yet. "I mean, have they? They haven't, right? Surely not?" She and Ciri turned to Yennefer.
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"I'm ashamed."
The trio jumped in their seats. (The tabby cat was a little irritated, but closed its eyes once more, nuzzling Ciri's abdomen.) Jaskier leaned against the wall next to the still-open door of the small bedchamber, crossing his arms.
"You're telling me there's a strong chance that Istredd has seen the most people here -- minus our precious Cirilla from the entirety of the equation, of course, ugh, my apologies -- the most people here naked? The weird, not-so-little history bookworm mage, with the honestly far-too-captivating eyes and voice, who seems to have gotten quite the upgrade in his personal styling, since I last saw him anyway, and oh my gods, that dark horse candidate may have actually bested me on this front. How. Why."
Jaskier threw his hands in the air emphatically, turned on his heel, and left the room once again. His voice easily continued to reach their ears, however, as Jaskier used a well-honed tavern skill in an empty corridor and stairwell.
"Cahir can stay in last place, but Milva deserves better, you know? She's a catch. Another type of frighteningly alluring, as if this group needed any more varieties of that."
Yennefer, Triss, and Ciri remained quiet this time, even after five seconds. Each was lost in their thoughts until Triss cleared her throat.
"For the record... Istredd has not seen me naked. Nor has Jaskier. Nor... Cahir."
Yennefer sighed.
"Cahir caught a glimpse at most. I can't fully rule it out. You didn't hear that, Ciri."
"Didn't hear what?"
"Exactly." She paused, hesitantly admitting, "I did kind of wonder. About the first one."
"That's fair," Triss replied, clearly not offended. "He did surprise me with how upset he became, when that arrow hit me at Aretuza... We're friends, yes, but I didn't know we'd reached that level of closeness until then. And now... Well, the possibility isn't completely off the table, but it's in the far distant future." Triss gave them each a questioning look in turn. "Please correct me if I'm wrong, but Cahir does not seem like someone I should stand in the way of, especially between him and his affections."
"Oh, no, you're absolutely right," Yennefer readily agreed. "Don't even bother."
"Yes, that sounds like a good instinct, Triss. He's..." Ciri made a strange face. "...You know what I mean?"
Even the tabby chimed in with a little sleepy sound which blended into its purring.
"I thought so. To be perhaps too honest, Milva's more of my type these days anyway."
"Be careful. You might end up with another arrow in you."
"And a new ballad by Jaskier, whether it works out or not."
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