Fandom: The Witcher

Ship: Emhyr/Geralt

Rating: general audiences, it's all in Morvran's head

The usual fanfic situation: Morvran is giving his report while Geralt is under Emhyr's table.

But the one in the game - it's surprisingly flimsy with an open leg space, very different from how we all have been redecorating that room.

410 words squeezed underneath the cut

Under the Table

"Your Imperial Majesty." Morvran grovelled his way into the Emperor's Vizima office, eyes on the floor - he knew the room well - smoothly diving into a bow halfway in. He straightened up and blushed a deep red underneath his layer of caulky make-up. "I'm going to come back later if this is an inconventient-"

"Proceed." The Emperor frowned. He sat behind his writing desk and looked unfrazzled. Underneath the table was someone on their knees, crouching low as there wasn't much space, their arse in tight leather trousers drew Morvran's eyes down when they weren't flicking up to the Emperor's stern visage.

"Uh. The. I," he groped for words as the person underneath the desk seemed to be groping around for something else.

"Your report." The Emperor prompted.

There was a bump from underneath the table, some swearing in Nord, then one shoulder pushed up and lifted the desk a few centimeters up at one end, sending everything on top into a slow slide. A book fell off while the Emperor unhurriedly lifted up his hourglass and pressed an elbow on a scroll.

The person underneath the Emperor's desk turned and extracted himself from the table, still on elbows and knees. It was the Witcher. He was pressing his medallion to the stone floor while he slowly crept into the direction of the chess table. "Hey Morvran, how's it going," he jovially squeezed out while keeping his focus on the floor.

"Durr," the General answered. The Emperor had put the hourglass back on his desk and gave him an impatient look. Morvran quickly picked up the book from the floor, handed it to him and started on his report while Geralt's arse stuck out from underneath the chess table. The General kept his report maybe a little briefer than usual and was soon ready to sum it up. "So generally everything is going as planned, we're ahead of schedule with the-"

A shiny purple circle appeared on the floor around Geralt's arse, there was a squeak, a bang and some smoke. Both the General and the Emperor watched the Witcher get up, holding something limp, blue and the size of a guineapig. "Got it," Geralt said redundandly and stalked out of the room.

"...with the rebuilding efforts, which is fortunate as the coming Winter is supposed to be hard and might prematurely stop some of the projects," Morvran concluded smoothly.

The Emperor nodded. "Thank you, General Voorhis."

Morvran bowed himself out.

It's the IMPerial office so this was probably an imp and not a smurf but who knows.
I'm sure Geralt just stunned it and is going to rehome it.