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    Summary

    *

    “Ye’re lucky I’ve taken a likin' to yer witcher, bard,” the dwarf said, “else I’d have head-butted ye in the balls just then, ye cheeky shite.”

    “I’m not too threatened by hollow objects,” Jaskier replied and flicked the side of his head.

    “Ow. Leave off.” The dwarf batted his hand away then crossed his arms and gave a huff. “Dinnae know what Geralt sees in ye, ye wee pest.”

    *

    Or: Jaskier's afternoon with Geralt is ruined when they're forced to assist a dwarf in distress. Luckily their evening together more than makes up for it.

    Language:
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