alluring {𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖆} WATTYS 2022

chapter sixteen

"Where there is love, there is life."

-Mahatma Gandhi

GERALT DIDN'T LIKE ATTENDING ROYAL CELEBRATIONS, BUT WITH AMELIA ON HIS ARM, IT WASN'T SO BAD. Queen Calanthe was announced into the room, in her armor and bloodied while Geralt leaned on a column with Amelia by his side.

"You couldn't have picked something else other than fianceé?" Amelia asked humor in her voice and Geralt glanced down at her.

"We look nothing alike, we couldn't have been related." Geralt reasoned and she crossed her arms. "And the nickname? Darling? Really, Amelia?"

"I don't know," she shivered slightly at the memory. "It made us look more engaged, I suppose. It felt wrong as soon as I said it." There was a moment of silence as Jaskier started singing a jolly tune with his lute as Queen Calanthe asked him to.

"We're supposed to be here until dawn, have a drink," Geralt handed her a pint, which she cautiously eyed. "Don't worry, princess, I've had a sip already."

"I'm also a bit hungry?" Amelia flashed doe-eyes at Geralt and he just groaned, going to grab her something to snack on. He came back, the platter having small bites in every piece of food already.

"I've already tested what I could." She munched down and Geralt watched, smiling softly at her. They shared a pint together, clinking their mugs. "Better?"

"Better." She nodded, then giggled slightly and Geralt looked down at her, that smile still on his features.

"What is it?" He asked her.

"I find royalty best taken in small doses," she mocked Geralt, deepening her voice and imitating his masculine walk. Geralt laughed, looking down at the ground at Amelia's antics. "I'm Geralt of Rivia, I don't laugh." She crossed her arms and pouted. "Hm. Fuck."

"Alright, you've made your point." Geralt tugged her back to his side, not liking how many lustful eyes were on her. 

"You do look handsome tonight, Geralt." Amelia gazed up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. "Though I do prefer you in those delightfully tight leather pants."

"Hm." Geralt felt a blush crawl up his neck, but he was thankful for the stupid jacket Jaskier had made him wear had a high collar. "I'm sure you do, princess."

Crach An Creite slammed a tankard on the table, making Geralt instantly pull Amelia closer to him. "You lie, you little shite! You never faced so much as a bad meal in your life, never mind a manticore."

"I've had manticores thrice as fat and ugly as you perish under my steel!" The shorter man yelled and Amelia snorted.

"Thrice, you say? I know grains of rice more threatening than that lord." She whispered to Geralt and he smiled smugly.

"Under your bullshit, more like. How many stings has it got, then?" Crach An Creite asked and the shorter man lifted his nose.

"Two."

"Hah! Go away and shite! It's five. I know."Crach An Creite beat his chest with one hand. "I've killed one."

"Christ, do you think they'll compare dick size next?" Amelia asked Geralt and he shook his head.

"If that happens, princess, I will assure we will leave rather quickly." Geralt felt Amelia sigh and lean into Geralt's side, her head on his shoulder as the two men started to fight.

" Enough! We have a renowned guest here tonight." Queen Calanthe called and all eyes turned to Geralt and Amelia, who straightened her spine and moved away from Geralt slightly. "Perhaps he can declare which esteemed lord is telling the truth."

"Neither." Geralt sipped his own ale, resting his other hand on Amelia's back.

"Are you calling me a liar, old man?"Crach An Creite asked, angrily. Geralt felt Amelia tense with anger.

"Aah. The Butcher of Blaviken bleats utter nonsense." There was laughter, and he could tell Amelia was nearly at her breaking point when it came to insulting Geralt.

"Are you calling my fiance a liar, lords?" Amelia spoke up and Geralt's eyebrows shot up, impressed. "Should that be wise to you for Lord Crach An Creite say he's killed only one manticore?"

Amelia's eyes burned bright and Geralt watched her, utterly fascinated. "My husband-to-be has slain more monsters than people in this room. And yes, he butchered Blaviken. How do you think he fights mere mortals?"

He stroked circles with his fingers in her back to ease her down. Jaskier shook his head, pleading Geralt not to make a scene.

"Though my love is right about the monsters, perhaps the lords encountered... rare subspecies of manticore." The queen laughed, knowing Geralt was doing.

"Perhaps our esteemed guest would like to entertain us with how he slayed the elves at the edge of the world?" She asked and the crowd cheered.

"There was no slaying. I had my arse kicked by a ragged band of elves and begged for my fianceé's life." Geralt was shocked at himself for how easily he identified Amelia as his fianceé. "I was about to have my throat cut when Filavandrel let me go."

"But the song....?" One of the lords asked.

"Yeah, the song," Jaskier said, obviously nervous.

"At least when Filavandrel's blade kissed my throat, I didn't shit myself. Which is all I can hope for you, good lords. At your final breath, a shitless death." Both he and Amelia toasted to the lords.

"But somehow, I doubt it," Amelia added and there was a wave of laughter.

"It would have been your blade at Filavandrel's throat had you been there, Your Majesty," Eist announced and there was a loud cheer. "Not that any elven bastards would crawl from their lair to meet you on the field."

"Any man willing to paint himself in the shadow of his failures will make for far more interesting conversation this night. Come, Witcher. Take a seat by my side while I change. And please, bring your delightful fianceé." Queen Calanthe commanded.

Geralt and Amelia exchanged a look with each other. "Hm." 

As they walked to the royal table, Geralt leaned down to Amelia's ear. "Quite the fireball you were back there." There was a note of teasing in his voice and she smirked back at him.

"My love?" She teased back, grinning. "And you said 'darling' was cringe-worthy."