Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of the witcher. Those are property of Mr Sapkowski and I using Netflix series canon mixed with the books and my twisted version of the lore.

Warnings : not much for a change lol.

Notes : This is the beginning of the hunt. I follow the series for the pace. Note that my Yarpen is very vindictive. I prefere the book version but I kinda kept the development of the series one. I chose to gave him a real subject to be hard with Jaskier from the blue though. I tried to push bits of Blood Origin mixed with books lore for that part. I hope it will be ok with you when Yarpen will be further developed.

The dragon hunt - part 2

Rejection

###

Geralt had to park Roach in the improvised camp in the forest around jt, something like twenty miles from Cairngorm. They were somewhere on the flank of one mountain with a large plateau. There was a clear path leading there but the road wasn't good. The dwarves' truck had some difficulties accessing the site. The Reavers were parked in a chaotic way, taking most of the trees to secure their bikes.

Geralt had found one too. He needed the shadows to help not to transform his vehicle into a hoven.

There was an official start for the hunt, with flags and official members of the local government on a precarious stage. They told them the rules and the prices. The first group to kill the dragon and bring back something to prove it would win a ten thousand orens recompense.

The official start of the hunt was an anticlimactic moment. Nobody was willing to run in the woods for the show. Hunting a dragon was a serious business. They would leave when ready.

###

They didn't know how long they would be out. Jaskier left his belongings in the car with the exception of his harp, which didn't help for integration.

This instrument wasn't big or heavy in itself. He had walked hundreds of miles with it on his back. Geralt didn't worry about that. But the other competitors mocked him. They didn't know his friend and they were reacting to the cliché of the city boy going to trek on the mountains without preparation. If the witcher knew something, that was that Jaskier had some stamina and even in his not very adequate outfit he would walk well.

But the Reavers were laughing at him and threatened to teach him what a hunt was, sending clear signals of physical abuse. Jaskier didn't react much to it, but Geralt wasn't at ease. Solo hunts were a thing. Competition on a hunt was something else.

Reavers were mercenary hunters. They had a whole cultural thing around it. They worked almost like migrating wolf packs, recognising each clan by their tattoos. They were paid to kill monsters, as much as witchers, but they never refused a well paid hunt to hunt people too. Geralt didn't like them very much because they had no honor or respect for life. On this particular hunt, the Reavers were favorites, as dragon hunting was quite their specialty.

In centuries they were the cause of the mass extinction of the species. And looking at how heavily armed they were, it was making him nervous. So many gunshots, so many potential accidents. And now they were menacing his bard. He had to keep an eye on them.

Then there were the dwarves. They proposed an alliance for the travel right away, which Borch accepted. The Reavers were making them nervous too. Their leader was one of the tallest amongst them. His name was Yarpen Zigrin. This was quite a character. He had the most picturesque way of speaking, punctuating his sentences with colorful swearings he never heard before. Geralt liked the man from the get go but again, Jaskier was a problem.

Yarpen happened to have a personal grief against him, especially because, somehow, he knew he was Julian before. The singer was quite disturbed by this.

- "An aristocratic little shit like you shouldn't even exist near my company from a hundred miles. I won't hesitate to axe you down if you do something I don't like."

- "I am not my father."

- "Well, you know what they say. The apple never falls far from the tree."

- "Well you should know better about apples to know they don't grow on the tree they came from. And that's what's make them better."

Yarpen didn't seem to have anticipated Jaskier to have some fire in him. He snorted and said before going.

- "You shouldn't be on a hunt. You and your elvish instrument have nothing to do with warriors."

This was a weird feeling to see the most popular man of all and the most socialisiable being rejected like that. And even weirder was that Jaskier didn't protest more.

- "Well, I guess he has some reasons to be that harsh. I am sure he will mellow down later."

Geralt wasn't so sure about this statement, but he didn't elaborate. His mind was taken by his own affairs. The worst for him was seeing Yennefer's behavior around her champion, sir Denesle. The man was tall and fit, quite well equipped. If his skills matched what he looked like he could be a serious opponent. The sorceress came to say hello but she didn't seem to be very happy to see him.

- "Geralt, what a surprise !" She said ironically.

- "Please don't play games. You and this man ?" The witcher attacked directly but with a low voice.

- "I am a sorceress. Sir Denesle is a promising candidate for the king's daughter and his unfederated state could join the king for a very profitable alliance here. I am a witch counselor from Aretuza, don't forget that. Also I wonder. What is it that you made that makes us stumble on each other so often?"

- "Witchers are meant to bump into monsters eventually…" said Jaskier, smirking.

Yennefer wasn't pleased. Geralt didn't say anything. He was trying to hide a smile. His friend's remark was terribly offensive but this was really funny in a way.

- "Jaskier." Yennefer's tone was condescending.

- "Yennefer." The singer replied the same way.

- "Oh my, the crow's feet are new ?"

The smile on the bard's face vanished, he turned his heels and went to the old Borch and his warriors ladies. Gerald knew what was going through his friend's mind. He was quite proud of his physique but that vanity was nothing in front of the fear of growing old and not being able to follow him to the hunts. The oxenfurt cage was pushing out many insecurities and repressed feelings. Yennefer didn't help there - she was aiming for blood - but this could mean having to deal with a very annoying Jaskier in the next few days.

- "That was mean." He simply said, having that in mind but not really thinking about what he was implying.

- "Well, his words weren't nice either. And you let him speak to me that way…"

- "Why are you really here ?" He sighed.

- "Dragon bile is known for its action in fertility. "

- "Again ?"

- "What do you have to say about my needs ?"

- "Nothing. Just that this is not true. Dragon's whatever never cured anything. You are willing to kill that creature for nothing."

- "And what is your noble excuse, Geralt ?"

He would not kill the dragon but she had a point there, as he was helping someone else to do so. And his motivation was only to see her…

- "This is what I thought. Good luck with your team and don't try to stop me." She said before turning back.

She went directly to her man and didn't even try to hide the flirt. Geralt looked away when they kissed. Jaskier came back at this same moment. He surely observed the situation from afar.

- "I am sorry for you, buddy…"

- "No you're not. You hate her anyway."

He walked back from where Jaskier came - to Borch and his ladies. His friend followed in silence.

###

For the first part of the journey, they all took the same path. The Reavers were on the pole position, Yennefer and sir Denesle just after, and then there were the dwarves and them, closing.

Jaskier was trying to seduce the Zerrikanians with very little success. They were not talkative and they were clearly uninterested in him. But this was only on their first stop for lunch that Geralt understood the real problem.

Yarpen and his companions issue with Jaskier was the same for Thea and Vea. He was the only member of the hunt that didn't belong. And this was in everybody's mind only because he was a noble man, or more because he was known by them for that. For the rest of the hunters, Jaskier was who he was known for around the Continent. A celebrity. So he was quite misplaced again.

- "Why do you keep repeating that Jaskier is a noble shit ?" He asked Yarpen when they had the chance to walk alone.

- "You're his white wolf and you don't know what he is ? Really ?"

- "Well I know him certainly better than anyone. He is no noble shit. He is no warrior, that is true, but you would not find anyone better for long walks in the wild in the human race."

The dwarf laughed dryly.

- "His father is the owner of the BP oil company. He is a very well known racist. And he forced many dwarves out of their lands because there was oil underground. His companies destroyed several ore veins that we were exploiting. They also destroyed some very ancient monoliths that were sacred to my people a very long time ago. Dwarven history has been buried in blood by the elves centuries ago. Those monoliths are almost the only thing that is left of us."

- "I didn't know what he did to your race, but I know what he did to Jaskier. I am telling you, he is nothing like his father."

- "I trust you White Wolf, because I respect the mutants, but keep your human friend next to you. I am not ready to try to believe anything with simple words."

At that moment, Jaskier called him. He was in the bushes to the waist, apparently collecting berries. Geralt sighed.

- "Geralt there is something in the bushes!" He screamed to him. "Oh hello there. What are you ? You are so cu… bloody hell !"

He ran back toward him, quickly followed by a famished werewolf-like creature. He understood why his friend was startled, but the creature wasn't dangerous.

- "This is nothing. This is a Hirrika." He said.

Jaskier stopped and looked back at the monster and tilted his head. Geralt smiled. His friend would always trust his judgment for that and curiosity would always win over fear. Somehow that was a good message to send to Yarpen to dissociate him from his father. He looked back at the dwarf who was observing critically.

- "It is not a danger to us." He continued. "It probably smelled the food in our bags and…"

He didn't have the chance to finish his sentence, sir Denesle ran out of the group, his sword out. He screamed something about honor and glory and swiftly massacred the beast. Two contradictory emotions hit him simultaneously as he watched him cutting its limbs and head off, and continuously stabing the body in its agony : Disgust and fear. That man was dangerous. He liked blood to a sick level. Honor and glory were just words to hide his murderous nature.

Jaskier turned round and vomited in the bushes.

Yennefer ran and stopped her champion who didn't seem to want to stop his mayhem. To her micro expression he knew that she was revolted also but she acted low. She was flattering his ego to distract him but this was nauseating.

- "Hunts are not for the weak stomachs." Said sir Denesle walking back to the group with Yennefer at his arm.

- "On that only, he is not wrong." Continued Yarpen after his passage.

- "He is…"

- "I don't care."

Geralt waited for Jaskier to feel better to join the others but he observed everyone's behavior.

Borch had a neutral expression. He seemed to be observing also. Yarpen and his men just resumed walking. The Reavers too, except one of them who was looking at Yennefer's champion with a strange look. When he noticed he was observed he smirked to him, spat on the ground and joined his men.

- "Jaskier. Stay close to me or to the Zerrikanians. This is a hunt that might have been a bad idea that you have joined."

His friend didn't say a word. He looked at the ground and moved.

###

When the evening came, all the competitors were still together. There was just one path anyway. But the packed formation was not because of that. Everyone was waiting for a sneaky move from one group or another.

When the camp was set, the Reavers went on their side and everyone else stayed together. Yennefer had sensed the menace floating around sir Denesle and chose to join them for supper. Jaskier was sitting on a rock next to him, his elven harp at his feet, far from the central fire pit. He was listening to the conversations but not really participating. He was writing things in his notebook. Probably composing or something.

Sir Denesle was monopolizing the attention, speaking vehemently about the things he would change in his future kingdom when he would get the price for killing the dragon. This was painful to hear and Yennefer's various attempts to change subject were all unsuccessful.

The good fortune came from the meal. Sir Denesle was a fierce fighter and a blood lover but his stomach was weaker than Jaskier when it came from dwarven food apparently. Something didn't suit him and he was suddenly plagued with terrible belly cramps and a furious need to shit in the bushes. He tried to go his head high but things just went down the hill in a hilarious way for the rest of them.

- "Lady Yennefer, may I escort you to your tent ?" He said, pointing discreetly at the big white structure between some trees, a little further.

Geralt looked at it with a critical eye. Of course, the sorceress had pulled out of her pocket - quite literally - a full equipped xxl tent, while the rest of them would sleep on the forest floor.

- "Will you be joining me ?" She asked in a way that was leaving no room for speculation.

She was clearly testing his limits right there. He didn't verbally react but anyone could see how tense he was suddenly.

- "I would never degrade your honor in such a way, my lady." Sir Denesle replied. To which Jaskier couldn't help but put salt on an opening wound.

- "I am sorry to break it to you, but that ship sailed, wrecked and sunk to the bottom of the ocean."

Yennefer side eyed him with murder envies and Geralt kicked him in the arm to shut him up. Sir Denesle left with a crisped smile, both from the incomfort in the air and his stomach.

- "That guy is funny." Stated Yarpen sarcastically. "He is all fire and passion for a state that won't hold two decades. Nilfgaard armies are approaching."

Yennefer frowned but didn't say a thing. She was using that guy and wasn't planning to really become his long term counselor as she proclaimed.

- "Kingdoms rise and fall in an eternal circle. There is nothing new here." Geralt added.

- "And with Fringilla as their mage I don't know what danger they represent. Cintra is in between anyway and they are always ready to fight. They have the most powerful army of the Continent."

- "I know you don't trust a fucking dwarf, but we've seen their armies at Ebbing. They're massive. And they are like fanatics, chanting about the White Flame that guide them. The world of men would shake soon. I am telling you."

- "Maybe the zealots of Nilfgaard would have been less threatening with a different mage as counselor, one with a stronger hand to tame their spiritual leader."

To that remark, Yennefer's complexion turned to ashes. Geralt knew part of her history at Aretuza and how she switched places with that Fringilla for the infamous Nilfgaard assignment. She was the one who should have been taming that White Flame. Borch had unintentionally hit right with his remark.

- "This is all very well to speak about the end of the world, but we are all here for the dragon. Maybe Sir Witcher you could tell us more about it."

- "Well. Dragons are very intelligent creatures. Some say that they have a language on their own and some kind of unknown magic. Today most of them live on the other side of the mountains far from civilization. But from time to time, especially when they need to nest, they return to the Continent, in more soft climates and environments. From the description of the damages done to the farmers, I guess we have a green female dragon here. They are the most aggressive. Green are the most common. Red dragons are rarer and black ones the rarest."

- "Golden ones are the rarest." Corrected Borch without looking at him.

- "Golden dragons are a myth."

- "This could be a rare mutation."

- "Well, I know some things about mutations and let me tell you that for a golden dragon to exist in our time, this would require an unprecedented amount of luck. In the wild such abnormalities are usually just a blip. An individual so different would have a very low chance of survival. And if something life has teached me is that in the Continent, for what concerns exceptional mutations, luck, destiny or whatever you wanna call it has nothing to do with it. We are experiments created for a purpose. What purpose would a golden dragon have ?"

Borch looked at him intensely. Geralt had this strange feeling again, like they were just the two of them and that the world was fading around.

- "I don't know sir witcher. What purpose does a dragon have anyway ?" This old man asked with a cornered smile. "But golden or whatever color the one we are hunting, I am looking forward to seeing it with my own eyes."

- "Didn't you want to kill it ?"

- "Yeah sure. Why not ?"

- "This was what you told me. Why are you there then?"

- "I am here for the last adventure of my life. Killing that beast or not won't matter much in the very end. The path we are taking is what matters and I can tell you, sir witcher, that I am very pleased so far."

- "We did nothing..."

- "Didn't we ?"

Borch eyes seemed to glow for a mere second. But everything was back to normal when Yennefer stood up. He looked back at her. She politely took her leave - their eyes connected and he could read a discreet invitation to follow but he didn't give her the sign back - and she regained her outrageous tent. He couldn't leave Jaskier behind in this hostile environment.

There were no more conversations around the fire after that and they all took places to sleep.

The old man was strangely at ease to sleep on the ground. The two Zerrikanians ladies laid very close to him. Geralt didn't care much of Zerrikanians ways and he just went for a place a bit further than the rest of the group. Jaskier was perplex about this association but accepted the cultural difference card Geralt threw at him and he found his place next to him for the night.

- "This hunt is different. I don't like it." He whispered.

- "Yeah. Me neither."

- "Do you believe what Yarpen said ?"

- "I don't care."

There was a long pause filled with the sounds of the night.

- "I know you want to be with her. I am sorry if I am a burden to you right now."

- "Jaskier."

- "Yeah ?"

- "Shut up and sleep."

There was a bruising of clothes as his friend was turning around. He didn't have to look back to know that he was showing him his back. Geralt did the same.

Well well well, this is sliding rapidly in an inconfortable position for both Geralt and Jaskier.