alluring {𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖆} WATTYS 2022

chapter fourteen

"Sexual desire is a state not unlike hunger."

-Mary Roach

GERALT WAS ECSTATIC TO SEE AMELIA AGAIN. Her eyes lit up when he walked into the tavern. He didn't expect her to jump into his arms, seeing that they had never hugged before.

"Hello, princess." He said, his voice was soft and caring, even to his ears. Amelia beamed up at him and he felt the stress of his hunt slide off his shoulders.

"I thought you were coming back tomorrow morning?" She asked him and he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He wasn't about to tell her he made Roach sprint there to the job and then back to Cintra.

"The job went quicker than I thought." His witcher's medallion hung from Amelia's neck, which made him smile slightly. He reached to touch it, careful not to brush his fingers against her skin at all.

"You probably want this back--" A blush dusted her cheeks, but he stopped her from taking it off.

"Keep it. Looks better on you anyway." The slight blush on her cheeks turned into a very deep red, making Geralt fully smile. He hadn't done that in a very, very long time. "I hope you didn't get into too much trouble when I was gone?"

"Well, Jask almost killed us when he flung porridge into the face of a very scary man." Geralt raised an eyebrow at Amelia's statement. "We had to run for our lives."

As Amelia launched into the story and Geralt just admired how beautiful she was, even covered in Selkiemore guts from hugging him so tightly. Geralt realized on his hunt that in such a short amount of time that he cared for Amelia more than just a friend.

He didn't know how to handle it.

"You're welcome. And now, Witcher, it's time to repay your debt." Jaskier greeted and Geralt felt his smile drain away. "' What debt?' you're probably asking yourself in your head right now. Well, I'll tell you. I've made you famous, Witcher."

"Jask, Geralt just got back--" Amelia tried to stop him, but the bard kept on rambling.

"By rights, I should be claiming ten percent of all your coin, but instead, what I'm asking for is a teeny, teeny-weeny little favor."

"Fuck off, bard." Geralt grumbled.

" For one measly night of service, you will gain a cornucopia of earthly delights. The greatest masters of the culinary arts crafting morsels worthy of the gods. Maidens that would make the sun itself blush with a single comely smile. And rivers of the sweetest of drinks from the rarest of-"

Geralt stood and started to walk away, making Jaskier curse under his breath. "Food, women, and wine, Geralt! Of course, the women you won't want because of our perfectly gorgeous travel companion seems to have her hooks in you."

Geralt stopped and Amelia looked up at him. "You can't be serious."

♘ ♘ ♘

Geralt grunted as Jaskier poured a bucket of water in his head while he sat in a bath.

"Now, now, stop your boorish grunts of protest. It is one night bodyguarding your very best friend in the whole wide world. How hard could it be?" Jaskier said, joyously. 

Currently, Amelia was also taking a bath, but there was a sheer sheet hanging to recreate a barrier to give her privacy. 

"I'm not your friend." Geralt grumbled.

"Oh. Oh, really? Oh, you usually just let strangers rub chamomile onto your lovely bottom?" Jaskier shot back and Amelia let out a delighted laugh on the other side of the curtain. Geralt just glared at him.

"That's what I thought. Every lord, knight and twopenny king worth his salt will be at this betrothal. The Lioness of Cintra herself will sing the praises of Jaskier's triumphant performance!"

"Jask, how many of these lords want to kill you?" Amelia's voice drifted from the other side of the curtain and Geralt had a hard time keeping his eyes forward.

"Hard to say. One stops keeping count after a while. Wives, concubines, mothers sometimes." Jaskier shrugged and Geralt scowled. "Ooh, yeah, that face! Ohh! Scary face! No lord in his right mind will come close if you're standing next to me with a puss like that."

"Is it the one where that cute little forehead crease come into play? And he scowls?" Amelia asked and Jaskier looked at Geralt fondly.

"Why yes, my dear princess. It is." He gave Geralt a knowing glance and wiggling his eyebrows. Geralt went to grab a pint of ale, but Jaskier took it away. "Ohh, on second thoughts... might wanna lay off the Cintran ale. A clear head would be best."

Geralt groaned loudly. "I will not suffer tonight sober just because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry. I'm not killing anyone. Not over the petty squabbles of men."

"Yes, yes, yes. You never get involved. Except you actually do, all of the time." The bard rolled his eyes and Geralt frowned at him.  "Uhg. Is this what happens when you get old? You get unbearably crotchety and cantankerous?"

Amelia laughed, which warmed Geralt's chest, despite his best efforts not to. "I have always wondered when do witchers retire?"

"When they slow and get killed." Geralt remarked.

"Come on, you must want something for yourself once all this... monster hunting nonsense is over with." Jaskier asked and Geralt shook his head.

"I want nothing."

"Well, who knows? Maybe someone out there will want you." There was something in Jaskier voice and the way his eyes flickered towards where Amelia was bathing that made Geralt narrow his eyes.

"I need no one. And the last thing I want is someone needing me." That was the response Geralt always gave, but yet it seemed oddly off when he said it now.

"And yet, here we are," Amelia spoke softly and Geralt regretted his words, but recognized she wasn't behind the curtain anymore. He turned behind him and his jaw threatened to unhinge.

Amelia stood there, wrapped only in a towel and soaking wet. "Jaskier, where the fuck are my clothes?" Geralt's eyes drifted all over her exposed skin, water droplets sliding down her throat where his medallion lay on her chest.

"Ah. Well, uh, they were sort of covered in Selkiemore guts, so I sent them away to be washed. Anyway, you're not going tonight as a witcher and a warrior princess." Geralt only heard Jaskier's voice faintly through this own roaring thoughts.

"Do I have something on my face, Geralt?" She teased, then sauntered out of the baths.

"Hm." He grunted as Jaskier cleared his throat loudly.

"Well, I'll just leave you be with your quite impressive...uh...friend. Down below." Geralt just growled and the bard ran out of the room.