Chapter Text
After Zofia left, they still didn’t start talking. Jaskier catches Geralt throwing him a couple of concerned glances, he knows Geralt often relies on him to fill the silence, but he really doesn’t think that’s something he can do right now. He has seen and heard many things about the world, but he just can’t fathom… hundreds of girls? He feels practically despondent from the realisation that the world can slip deeper into awfulness.
Geralt seems to give up on trying to make him talk with looks and instead just starts setting up to sleep as Jaskierjust stares absently into the fire. He only looks up when Geralt comes over and touches him gently on the shoulder. He finds that Geralt had set up the bedrolls close together; normally they only do this when it's cold and they need to share warmth.
“What?”
He knows he probably looks a bit bleary, but Geralt just shrugs it off. He doesn’t like acknowledging when he does something for Jaskier. Right now he’s being abnormally gentle and Jaskier closes his eyes thinking he might fall even deeper in love with his witcher if he continues acting like this (not that that's possible.)
Just as he begins drifting off in what he’s sure will be an uneasy sleep, he hears Geralt rumble, “talk tomorrow?”
Now it’s his turn to hum an affirmative at a worded question.
—
He wakes softly and realises the sun is much higher in the sky than Geralt normally lets it rise before they’re back on the road. Geralt doesn’t seem to want to push today, however, as the sound of whetstone against metal becomes obvious.
Geralt probably knows he’s awake, but he still gives him the time to wake properly and get dressed before looking at him expectantly, though, even then, he doesn’t actually say anything. It seems it’ll be up to Jaskier to actually broach the topic.
“So, about yesterday… I know you aren’t allowed to kill humans, and normally that’s easily justifiable, but right now, there’s a man killing more than most monsters you encounter. I just, I don’t know what to do with this information, Geralt, not when we, or well, you, might actually have the ability to stop him. Do you not think he’s a monster too?”
He’s probably shaking at the end of his small tirade, but right now, the only important thing is Geralt’s response. Geralt, who is actually one of the kindest and gentlest men he knows… Geralt, who really would not abide by such monstrosity if he had the option not to.
“I cannot change the definition of what witchers consider a monster on my own.”
“But Geralt! There must be something we can do!”
“Jask…” Geralt has the most bizarre expression on his face, directed at him, as if he were incredibly fond of him, as he responds, “notice how I said ‘on my own’?”
And now he knows he’s gaping at the witcher.
Geralt’s small smile drops, “I agree with you - He is a monster… I- Come to Kaer Morhen with me this year. I need to get the others on board with the idea, and your pretty words may just be able to do it.”
Well, that certainly is not going to stop him from gaping.
Seeing Geralt start to hesitate is what finally snaps him out of his stupor, though his voice is still breathy from shock as he says, “I’d love to.”
He couldn’t have refused, not when it had been his dream to stay with Geralt all year long, but especially since Geralt rarely lets himself show his vulnerability. Jaskier lives for those moments Geralt lets his shield down in this way, and he cannot help but think that perhaps, yesterday may have changed something between them, with both of them acting so differently from the way they normally do.
“Wait, but even if we manage to change what the definition for monsters is, Henselt is still a king. He’s not a random person you can just walk up to and kill. And what about his guards, are we considering just him the monster, because he’s the perpetrator? Or are the rest of his entourage who allow him to behave in this way also monsters?”
Geralt’s reassurance that he didn’t want to leave the issue alone seems to have brought back Jaskier’s words, and he continues to babble questions and considerations at the witcher. Jaskier is not going to contemplate why relief fills his companion’s face, especially not when he responds with his normal taciturn hum.
“No, Geralt, you had so many words before, where have they gone? You can’t just return to being non-verbal now!”
Maybe he imagines the small smirk on the other’s lips as he turns away to saddle Roach with another hum.
—
They ultimately decide to go to Kaer Morhen early, though it takes a few days for Jaskier to get the reasons for that out of Geralt. The first he manages to wrangle out of the witcher is that the climb gets more difficult as the autumn grows harsher so it is partially for his sake. The other is that he would like to talk to his mentor, Vesemir, before the witchers on the Path get back to the keep.
He keeps asking questions, of course, such as why Vesemir would be in the keep when others are on the Path (training baby witchers, of course). He is almost shocked that Geralt actually answers his questions, he’s not exactly forthcoming, of course, but that evening does seem to have shifted something between them. Geralt talks more, actually engaging with Jaskier, and shows more emotion than he had previously too. It would be startling if Jaskier weren’t absolutely besotted. He had known Geralt was sweet, and he doesn’t know why, exactly, Geralt has finally let his guard down, but he can’t help but be thankful.
Of course, Geralt continues taking contracts along the way, but by the time they reach a small village at the bottom of the mountain range, Geralt insists on staying the night and that they go to the market square early in the morning, both to gather supplies for the climb, but also to ensure Jaskier has the right clothing to withstand the cold of winter.
Jaskier decides to allow himself a final night of performance in a tavern. He’s determined to perform for the witchers of Kaer Morhen of course, but perhaps this song is not one he wishes to premiere in the privacy (and maybe intimacy) of the keep; it feels too much like bearing his heart for him to perform it for the first time in front of people he will have to see all winter.
Geralt, as has become his habit in the last couple of years, actually stays in the tavern to watch him perform, tucked away in a shady corner, rather than retreat back into their rented room.
Jaskier takes a deep breath and begins to sing his final song:
The Lady of the Lyre’s got a lot upon her mind
Travelling across the land with 7 strings combined
And where she’s going next no one knows
Her name was Roselinda but right now she goes by Rose
And the Lady of the Lyre’s gotta leave her home behind
Betrothed to a noble man her father had assigned
And while her protests was strong and clear
He made it pretty known her home was anywhere but here
His songs most often come from his experiences or those of the people around him, but this one is practically biographical, though he hopes the change of gender and name can distance it enough from him so that people don’t realise. He doesn’t even think Geralt might realise it’s about him. For all he talks, he knows he doesn’t often actually talk about himself, not things that go beyond the surface, and especially not about his family.
He was glad to hear about Vesemir, glad Geralt had an actual paternal figure in his life, someone he can rely on to counsel him, he certainly would not trust his own father in that way.
And all the roads she followed
Lead her to nowhere she wanted to stay
And all alone she swallowed
The burden of not having someone to say:
“Hold me love till morning
And stay till the sun’s going down
And play me a song of the life you found”
He’s abruptly glad he can’t see Geralt, cloaked in shadow as he is, so he doesn’t get the urge to stare at him during the chorus that is essentially a longing plea. He hadn’t planned on singing it in front of Geralt. At least not the first time. He had planned on singing it in Oxenfurt through the winter in the hopes that if it became a popular song, he would be able to sing it with a lesser sting. He doesn’t even begin to imagine what his scent must be doing, though he doesn’t know how much Geralt can actually distinguish.
The Lady of the Lyre’s gotta lot upon her mind
Playin’ out for everyone for some to spare a dime
And while the change then was slow to start
Within a year the audience around would know the part
And the Lady of the Lyre found her fame begun to grow
When everyone around would know her name, where she would go
And though applause then would fill her head
She failed to find somebody who could fill her heart instead
He had found someone to fill his heart, really, had done as soon as Geralt had pleaded with the elves to spare him after just meeting. He’d never figured out if the witcher had understood what he’d told the elves, because he’d kept pleading for them to release the ‘human’ even after Jaskier had told Filavandrel of his elven heritage… It would be just like Geralt to ignore such a thing, or perhaps he doesn’t speak Elder.
The repetition of the chorus makes the urge to gaze towards Geralt’s corner even more, but he knows he shouldn’t. It would probably be much too telling.
The Lady of the Lyre’s got a lot upon her mind
Travelling across the land with 7 strings combined
And where she’s going next no one knows
Her name was Roselinda but right now she goes by Rose.
He wonders if using a floral name for the protagonist of this song is also too telling, but he didn’t think he could part with it.
As he lets his voice trail off, he finally looks towards Geralt, though he doesn’t know if the other man had reacted to the song in any way. He goes to collect his winnings, almost glad he has exhausted himself, even if it’s emotionally, at least he’ll fall asleep quickly. Geralt will probably want them to get an early start.