Chapter Text
Geralt doesn’t mind the jeers, he’s gotten used to them, but he’s thankful Jaskier can’t hear them because the bard is already fuming at the Kaedwani attempting to throw waste on them, including horse manure.
They’ve not done anything to properly besiege the city yet, and they wouldn’t ever think of attacking the populace if they decided to leave to continue their lives but they don’t know that and so the gates of the city stay securely barred.
The first evening after their arrival, he reads the terms of Henselt’s surrender that Jaskier had drawn up. It had been interesting to discover that his bard’s education hadn’t just consisted of music, but of “politics and economy amongst others, as well, my dear. I was sent to university as any good little noble boy, and I learnt all that a good little noble boy ought - I mean, I certainly didn’t stay one, but I am a Master of the Seven Arts, graduating cumma sum laude, so I am good at those things.”
Jaskier can hear those jeers, as he is one of those in the party that comes with Geralt to the gates so he may read out the terms of surrender. Geralt has to draw him back from trying to encourage the others to attack earlier than stated after that.
“Me reading out those terms is kinda like me giving an oath to them. I shan’t break it, bardling.”
It’s kind of intoxicating the way Jaskier relaxes in his arms at that and kisses his cheek while whispering “you’re right, of course, my honourable witcher.” It’s not the time to discuss the implications of it, but it does keep him on a high he’s never experienced for a while.
They wait 3 days, as per the terms, and Henselt still refuses to show his face. That evening, Geralt chooses a party of witcher to come with him: Aiden, from the Cats, he’s been guarding Jaskier so well and is acknowledged to be one of the best climbers; Kolgrim of the Vipers, he’s known for his assassin’s skills, which he perhaps won’t be able to use if they decide to be all honourable, so he may as well get a bit of enjoyment out of this (his words, when he volunteered, not Geralt’s); Byrtel for the Cranes, he’d just invented a new grappling hook system, so he’s excited to test it out; and finally, of course, Eskel and Lambert, just because it's nice having his brothers as backup.
None of the Griffins, Manticores, and Bears had volunteered claiming it wasn’t quite their style, but they were ready to be backups if necessary.
The 6 of them scale the walls in the dead of night, using Byrtel’s ingenious grappling hooks, the hooks retract for ease of retrieval, to get over the more difficult portions of the climb. When they make it over onto the battlements, there is one guard, falling asleep on his pike, aided even deeper into slumber with Eskel’s somne. There are some soldiers in the tower but they are distracted by a dice game at the top, allowing the group to sneak down and into the city.
Beyond the walls, there is very little sound and even fewer defences. It is past midnight, and other than the last few revellers leaving taverns, everyone is sleeping securely in their beds convinced by the fact that their walls will keep them safe from the hundreds of witchers camping outside demanding the blood of their King. They are safe from the witchers, of course, but it is not thanks to the walls.
They follow their plan to go through the garden and they encounter no trouble other than a young guard patrolling alone. He is startled when he sees them. Once he regains his bearings enough to realise what’s happening and he goes to shout for support, he is quickly quelled by Eskel’s axii. He succumbs easily and directs them to the King’s chambers and then acts as if he hasn’t seen them, exactly as ordered.
Geralt bumps his shoulder against Eskel’s in silent thanks and Eskel responds by grinning at him brightly, as though exhilarated by the adventure. Geralt isn’t sure what he’s done to have Jaskier and Eskel constantly grinning at him, but whatever it is, he doesn’t want to stop doing it. It’s getting addictive.
They follow the directions, using Eskel’s signs to either put the guards they encounter to sleep or make them think they saw nothing. It’s still far too easy, they’re all unsuspecting. Geralt knows they aren’t expecting them, but surely they must have considered that there would be others who would want the King dead, even inside the city. Of course, they have the advantage of their greater than human abilities, but Geralt still thinks it shouldn’t be this easy.
Eventually, they make it to the King’s chamber, and after subduing the two guards at the door, they enter.
Henselt is asleep, calm and unsuspecting, as all his victims ought to have been… would have been, perhaps, if they hadn’t come across him.
They all stand around the bed, in something of a shock, how could the man they are looking at possibly sleep so deeply, as if he bears no guilt for what he’s done.
Kolgrim is the first to move.
“Let me, White Wolf,” he whispers. He pulls out a vial of something and gives it to the King. “That ought keep him asleep and quiet as we get him out of here. It’s not that I don’t trust your somne, Eskel, but for this, I thought we could do with something more sure.”
Eskel inclines his head in acceptance.
“Next time, warn us in advance,” is all Geralt can respond with.
“I shall if there is a next time, White Wolf.” There is amusement in the Viper’s voice as he hauls the King over his shoulder.
Geralt doesn’t sigh outwardly, but he is very tempted to. It hadn’t quite sunk in, what he’d begun… but now, as they go back through the citadel with a monstrous king, bringing him to meet his end… well, perhaps it’s sinking in now.
They make it back to their camp with as little trouble as they’d had on the way in. Jaskier is there to welcome him back with an embrace.
“You’re back.” He smells like relief. “I knew you could do it, but you’re back.”
Geralt hums and Eskel responds verbally, “I told you I’d bring him back in one piece, bard.”
Jaskier motions for him to join the embrace and Geralt can’t think of a more pleasant place to be than in their arms.
They sleep all cuddled together like that for a bit, but too quickly, the dawn begins to approach and they are rousted to finish what they’d started.
Jaskier looks adorable as he blinks away sleep from his eyes. He stays there for a short while so Geralt startles slightly when he stands up, barely resisting tugging him back into the warmth.
“Well, we don’t have much time. Best get ready,” Jaskier states firmly as he starts changing out of his sleep top to change into the outfit he’d chosen for the occasion. Geralt isn’t sure what the thought process behind the choice is. Jaskier had explained it, but Geralt had been distracted. Jaskier looks really pretty in that outfit: it is silver, though from certain angles the silk shifts into the same blue as Jaskier’s eyes, it makes Jaskier look like he’s glowing.
Geralt and Eskel stay in the warmth until Jaskier pulls them out once he’s dressed.
“Come on then, my dear Wolves, time to finish your hunt.”
__
When the sun has risen enough for everyone to see properly, Geralt rides up to the gates once again. They have Henselt, now awake, gagged and with his face covered with a black sack, on the back of a cart. Geralt loathes the theatrics of this part of the plan; he would much prefer to dispatch the monster without fanfare, but Jaskier had insisted it was necessary. They can’t simply get rid of the monster and be done with it. The bard had pointed out that there were people who knew and abetted the King in his crimes, and, if they were not dealt with, they might install a similar monster on the throne and they would just have to come back.
“Ard Carraigh, behold, your king!” Luckily for Geralt, it is Jaskier that speaks now. He has the ability to project and perform in a way Geralt just can’t imitate. It had to be Geralt giving the terms of surrender, that could be done relatively privately, but now, everyone needed to hear.
With that cue, Eskel removes the hood covering the King’s face. The jeers and laughter that had once again been coming from the gathered soldiers on top of the walls immediately ceased. Instead, shouts of horror replace them. It’s too late, of course, but the sound of heavy armour resounds as soldiers and knights try to figure out how they may save their King.
Jaskier continues as though none of that were happening, “Your King is a monster whose prey has been the women and girls of your cities, villages, and countrysides. The role of witchers is to hunt down monsters and dispatch, and they have done so.”
With that, Geralt draws his silver sword and cleanly separates Henselt’s head from his body.
With that, the gates of Ard Carraigh finally open.