Chapter Text
Julian wishes he didn’t meet a lot of people. And by a lot he really means one person... and maybe a few individuals who caused his name to be raked through the mud. (That wasn’t his point at this moment)
Yennefer. Yennefer of fucking Vengerberg. A very beautiful witch sorceress who has caused several problems in Julian’s lifetime. Their meeting started it all, as that’s usually how problems begin to brew.
The djinn was a fun ride. Julian was making his way around the continent when he found his friend, Geralt the bard, at a river with a... fish net? Asking questions was his job, so Julian did exactly that.
His friend turned out to be searching for a djinn, not describing the true reasoning why. (Sleep was a bullshit answer) It ended- well... ‘ended’ with a short fight when Geralt mentioned Julian’s singing, something he’d picked up on to the road to pass time, was like a filling-less pie.
Bastard.
Long story short... Geralt hurt himself with his wish. His ‘damn peace’ wasn’t toward Julian, it was aimed at himself. Now, the bard was slowly beginning to die, a tumor, the healer had said. (Strangely in his heart)
Meeting Yennefer was a strange story. Julian was to bring her... apple juice, then talk to her. He was a tad distracted when first entering the room, the orgy happening nearly threw him all the way off track. But Geralt was much more important.
Yennefer said she would help, for a price. Julian said he’d give her all of his money, just as long as Geralt turned out well in the end.
Julian did not leave his friend’s bedside. The witch’s reassurance that he was healing, and slight offense over Julian’s questioning of her magic did not affect him. He just wanted Geralt to be okay.
Soon enough, the bard did wake up. The first thing he noticed was Julian, who was passed out in a chair next to the bed. Now that he thought about it, the witcher never really got enough sleep when Geralt slipped in one situation. Worry.
“He refused to leave your side.” Geralt turned his head to the arch that opened the room to the house(?) The woman crossed her arms and sighed in Julian’s direction. “Never seen a witcher worry over someone, or something like this. Then again, I’ve never met one. He’s not quite the heartless monster people call him.”
Geralt took offense to her statement. “He’s far from a monster, don’t listen to what other people say.” His eyes trailed over to his friend, who was slowly, but surely, waking up. “He saved my life.”
The sorceress was about to comment on how she was the one to do it, but missed her chance. Julian was fully awake and up and out of the chair. “Oh, thank the gods you’re awake.” Like he would, he pulled Geralt into a semi-tight hug, careful to not put too much pressure on the other man’s body. “Thought I’d have to move you and see if something else could cure you.”
It was Yennefer’s turn to take offense. “I told you I had it, you just have to be patient.” The witcher did not say anything, just glared at her. “Now, I will take my payment.” Right. Payment. But before Julian could reach for his bags, Yennefer interrupted him with a hand held up. “Not coin... I’d love to have a talk with your friend here.”
Julian frowned. “No. Absolutely not.” He noticed her gaze snapping to Geralt, who had grown quiet. “The answer is no, witch. Because I know you don’t just want to talk to him. I’m not stupid.”
“And does he not have a say in this?” Yennefer questioned with a raised brow.
Once again, all eyes were on Geralt. He was scratching a few cuts on his arm, they were itchy and uncomfortable on his skin. (He noticed Julian’s lip twitch upward and Yennefer frown further) “He has the final say in situations like this.” A rule they’d just come up with. And Geralt had no desire as to what Yennefer was offering.
“But—“
Julian wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist, gave Yennefer a hard glare, and growled out: “Mine.” The bard in his arms shivered, but managed to settle his eyes on Yennefer.
She gave up. “Fine. You two have ten minutes to get out of the mayor’s house before I kick you out myself.” Then she stormed off.
Julian’s arms did not retreat from Geralt’s body for a few more minutes. “What were your other two wishes?”
Right. What he had been scratching was three lines on his wrist, which he just figured out were connected to the djinn. “I’ll tell you later.”
Chapter Text
The answer to what Geralt’s other wishes were did not come for several months. Julian was afraid he’d have to wait until after Winter in order to his friend to answer. (Or maybe he would demand to know before he left. Patience isn’t exactly one of his virtues)
Luckily, and unluckily, Julian discovered the last two during a hunt. It was more unlucky than lucky because of the way he was told, and the timing.
A farmer in a small town close to Cintra put up a contract for a werewolf. He informed Julian and Geralt the werewolf was his son, but he’d been cursed for wrongly speaking to and acting towards a visiting sorcerer. In a fit of his first transformation, the boy had accidentally killed his mother. It led him to hiding in the woods.
“Please, witcher, put him out of his misery… I can’t imagine how he must be feeling after that.”
Julian agreed, but did not accept coins as payment. He instead asked a strange question (at least to the farmer and Geralt) “One of my brothers has a goat at our home. Maybe she’d be less of a nightmare with a friend. Could you send one to Kaedwen before Winter hits?”
But that wasn’t his worry at the moment. Right now, he was focused on the wound in his side and the beast in front of him.
His movements became slower and sloppier, the swings a little out of the way of the beast. Julian was spitting curses at each miss until the tip of his blade finally touched base on the throat. It cut in deep enough for the werewolf to howl (or gurgle) then drop to the ground. To double check, Julian drove his blade through the beast’s head, muttering an apology while doing so.
Julian sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a brief moment- brief until the smell of iron filled his nose. It wasn’t his own… because he learned to ignore his own and learn—
“Oh fuck.”
Chapter Text
The witcher secured his sword inside its hilt then ran to the tree clearing.
Geralt was holding his hands to his side, where three long claw marks were. His face was flushed and his lips were pressed into a thin line. “Julian—“
There was not a minute Julian would spare Geralt to talk. “What the actual fuck. How the hell did you get hurt? You were here the entire time, weren’t you?!”
He was carrying Geralt in his arms while angrily asking how his friend got hurt. Of course, he was too busy shooting out questions to allow the bard to answer.
It wasn’t until they reached the inn, demanded for a hot bath, and were in their room that Geralt was finally allowed to speak. “Will you let me answer?” Julian glared hard, but said nothing. “Thank you. This has to do with my other two wishes.”
There were a few moments of silence as the boy coming up with hot water walked in and started to fill the tub. He also gave Julian a sheet of paper, which said approximately when the goat would arrive in Kaedwen, then sprinted back out.
Geralt waited until he was in the bath to continue. It took him a moment, because the water was scorching and did not feel great on his wound. “I tied my life to yours.”
…What? The witcher stopped dressing his wound and looked up. His brows furrowed and the current anger coursing through his veins grew. “The fuck do you mean you tied your life to mine.”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Geralt’s head was halfway underwater, eyes averted from the livid witcher across the room. “If you get hurt, I get hurt. If you die, I die. What happens to you will happen to me.”
No words. There were no words to describe the emotions flowing through Julian’s head. There were too many feelings and thoughts to count and put together. All he could ask was, “And your second?”
Geralt relaxed a little, but not fully. He knew Julian was going to chew him out later. “Well… you remember my first wish, and I asked for peace?” Julian nodded. “It went to my heart, because I’m not… well, I’m not at peace. A lot of thoughts flow through my head that you’re unaware of, because I don’t tell. The second wish was honesty. It’s exactly what it sounds like. I lie and it hurts me and those around me, so I wished for honesty.”
The witcher did not know which to be more surprised about. He was, and has been aware of Geralt’s emotions. They were clear as day to him. Last time he tried to push and ask about Geralt’s emotions, they parted ways. It wasn’t a good conversation.
“Why… Why would you tie your life to mine?” Julian sounded very calm, a little too calm. “I know you’re aware of my lifestyle. You just shortened your lifespan. Are you aware of that?”
Geralt lifted his head from the water, steadying his posture. He was feeling a lot better, and could pinpoint it to Julian’s quick healing and dressing of his wounds. “I am. Don’t be surprised, but I know quite a bit of what I get out of this wish.”
There was no surprise, but Julian was becoming confused. His anger and confusion were not mixing well. “That still doesn’t tell me why. Why would you do that? What’s your reason to do this to yourself? My personal life, my health should be of no concern to you in that way.”
“Because I…” Geralt paused, flinching as he did so. (Holding back the truth, or telling a lie to Julian would not have a good result) “Because I… l-love you and d-don’t want to l-lose you.”
Wow. Julian felt his heart slow even further, almost stop. If he had the ability to blush, his face would be completely red. Just about as red as his brother’s hair. “You…” He wasn’t lying, because according to his wish with the djinn, he cannot lie to him. “How and why?”
Geralt sighed. “I’ve been traveling with you for, how many years? I want to say about twelve…” He shook his head, waving a hand in the air. “I don’t follow you around just for inspiration, Julian. My poems matter, yes… but you’re worth more than them. A lot more.”
Emotions were not Julian’s strong suit at the moment. “Y-You’re… You really…” A frown ceased Geralt’s lips. “Sorry, sorry.” Instead of saying anything further, Julian shakily stood up from his spot then knelt down next to the tub, next to Geralt. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Geralt replied with an eye roll. He was growing impatient. Usually, the witcher would reply quickly or take his time to form another answer. There were never any questions, well, except for cases. “What about you? How do you feel?”
Julian’s grip on the tub’s edge tightened. He noticed Geralt’s forehead crease, and the smell of fear and nerve started to fill his nostrils. “Oh, fuck it.”
Because he could not form words about how he truly felt, Julian leaned forward and pressed his lips against Geralt’s. He felt the other man freeze for a moment, but soon enough, two wet hands were placed on both his cheeks, allowing more access.
The witcher had to pull away before half his body could slip into the water and his wound would reopen. “‘M not good with words. Hope this helps.”
Geralt smiled, nodding. “It’s enough for me.” He pulled his feet and legs more toward his body and gestured to the tub with his head. “C’mon, you need to get clean too.”
Julian chuckled while undressing. “Alright, but no shenanigans. That’s what you get for not telling me about your wishes.”
BambisCambis on Chapter 1 Wed 24 May 2023 08:02AM UTC
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BambisCambis on Chapter 2 Wed 24 May 2023 08:04AM UTC
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theonetryingtolive on Chapter 3 Mon 07 Mar 2022 01:05PM UTC
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BambisCambis on Chapter 3 Wed 24 May 2023 08:09AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 24 May 2023 08:09AM UTC
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