Shame to Thee with Harden Hearts

by MorganaIsmene

Summary:

What if Geralt and Jaskier came across the King of Kaedwen's atrocities while travelling together?

What should they do? And how might those actions end up changing their relationship?

Notes:

• Inspired by With a Conquering Air by inexplicifics

Title from the song Empress by The Arcadian Wild

Chapter 1

Jaskier couldn’t help but feel there was a sort of miasma hovering over the village. Normally, that meant a contract for Geralt to complete, but though he cannot put his finger on it, it also feels different from usual. After nearly nine years of following the witcher around, for almost 3 seasons a year, he should be used to the oppressive atmosphere of entering a settlement besieged by a creature, and normally he is… But there’s something here that doesn’t feel quite right.

 

Geralt frowns, more than he normally does, so he’s not the only one who feels it. They stop in silence to ponder the noticeboard, and Jaskier finds himself surprisingly unsurprised to find no contract for a witcher. He glances at his companion, frowning: “Geralt…”

 

“We should camp in the woods tonight.” It’s blunt as Geralt’s words always are, but they also hold the same tension Jaskier feels.

 

Normally, Jaskier would complain, but something stops him. 

 

He glances at the noticeboard again and one of the pieces of parchment catches his eye.

 

Alright fuckers. One of you will tell me what happened to Anna or I will make you.

 

Something is definitely going on here, and he isn't sure if he wants to learn what it is.

 

He turns back to his witcher and attempts a reassuring smile, but he isn't sure it's successful. “Yes, let's.” 

 

—

 

They don’t go far from the village, not really, but they find a clearing in the woods beyond the path, and most importantly, beyond the oppressive atmosphere. 

 

Jaskier glances back to find Geralt still as tense as he had been at the entrance of the village. It worries him, really, because he always wishes he can remove some of the burdens that the man labours under. After so long, he’s figured out that Geralt’s gruff attitude has little to do with him actually wanting to push Jaskier away, at least he thinks, because Geralt shows he cares in so many other ways. It’s in the way he finds food for Jaskier, in the way he stays to watch Jaskier’s performances even though he probably wants to go to sleep. Jaskier hopes he brings comfort to Geralt too, tries to make it easier for him to get rooms in inns once he learnt of the prejudice Geralt faces, tries to get as much coin as he can so he can make sure Geralt has enough food, tries to get rid of the unfair reputation Geralt gained.

 

Now, though, he hopes he can help Geralt to relax, but the fact that the other man leans into the hand he puts onto his shoulder concerns him even more. It’s not that he doesn’t like physical contact, Jaskier has been around him long enough that he actually enjoys it, but normally he deprives himself of it. If he readily accepts the offered comfort, there must be something very wrong.

 

“Geralt, darling?”

 

He won’t outwardly ask what’s wrong, implying the question allows the witcher to avoid it if he wishes to.

 

But it seems Geralt doesn’t want to avoid the issue because he actually responds, “The whole village smells of fear, anger, and grief. But there isn’t a monster, they would have put out a contract on it.”

 

Jaskier won’t ask what that means; he knows enough about the world to know what that means. It means that someone, not something, was the cause of those emotions.

 

He’s about to ask Geralt if he thinks there’s anything they can do. Sometimes, when a human causes those emotions, like a man beating his wife, they help the victim get to safety. Jaskier sometimes wishes they could do more, perhaps even get rid of the person causing the harm, but Geralt is still convinced he can only kill monsters unless a human literally raises a sword to him, especially because of what happened in Blaviken, even if most humans have forgotten. 

 

Before he can get the words out, however, a man bursts into the clearing, a huntsman probably, given the bow he holds and the dogs that follow him. He is closely followed by a brawny woman who seems furious. She has short brown hair that hangs to her angular jaw, and is nearly as tall as Jaskier. He recognises the calluses on her hands that are so like Geralt’s, suggesting that she does know how to use the sword at her waist, the pommel of which she grasped when she noticed them.

 

They all stand around the clearing looking at each other in surprise, even the dogs are quiet. Geralt has moved closer to him for some reason, though no one is moving at all now.

 

Jaskier decides to break the silence, if not the tension, by breathing out a small startled greeting.

 

Both newcomers' eyes flicker to him as Geralt moves even closer, though Jaskier doesn’t know why, though their attention quickly moves back to Geralt.

 

The uneasy silence continues after that, Jaskier would normally continue to fill it, but the atmosphere they had escaped at the village seems to be back and he feels unbalanced.

 

In the end, it’s the woman who breaks the silence, seemingly having become even more agitated. “Oh, for fucks sake, Anton! Are we going to stand here watching the witcher, or do you want to get paid?”

 

That seems to startle the confusion out of the huntsman, who murmurs apologies at Geralt and Jaskier, and urges his dogs back into their search. 

 

Geralt and Jaskier stay frozen for a while, until Geralt sags and puts his head onto Jaskier’s shoulder. He stops himself from jumping at the unexpected move, he hadn’t realised Geralt was close enough to do that, but then he grows even more concerned again. If Geralt leaning into physical comfort is uncommon, him seeking it out is even more unexpected.

 

“What was that?” He feels a nudge from Geralt’s head, possibly because of the shakiness of his question. He doesn’t really know why he feels so shaken though, in the end nothing really happened.

 

“I think it has something to do with the village, they smelt the same way.”

 

“Are we going to do something about it?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

They continue to make camp, trying to act as if all things were normal, but as Jaskier attempts his normal blabber, his mind keeps returning to the village and the unusual encounter.

 

They are sitting down to finally eat the food Geralt has prepared when the man whips his head up and gazes towards the woods, almost exactly where the huntsman and the woman had exited the clearing a couple hours prior. Shortly later, the woman comes through the boundary of the clearing, alone, this time. She still looks absolutely furious, but, by the light of their campfire, Jaskier can see her tired expression made even more obvious by her red rimmed eyes which immediately lock onto Geralt.

 

“Witcher,” she addresses him in a raspy alto voice, “you kill monsters, right?”

 

Geralt, of course, hums a noncommittal answer, which she seems to take as a sign to continue.

 

“The king of Kaedwen killed my sister.”

 

Jaskier isn’t sure if he could explain his reaction to the woman’s words. It’s easier, perhaps, to think of non sentient creatures as monsters and of sentient creatures as those who fight the monsters and are never monsters themselves. He knows it’s not true, of course, he’s met his fair share of human monsters, his father amongst them, but he’s never seen anyone attempt to ask Geralt to kill any. He knows it has happened before, Geralt told him the story of Blaviken when he was drunk and melancholy one night, and it’s the most Jaskier has ever heard out of him. Now, he really doesn’t know how Geralt will respond, though in the end, the witcher surprises him.

 

“I do kill monsters, yes, but killing humans is against the code of my school.”

 

A look of anguish crosses the woman’s face. “Some humans are monsters.”

 

“Yes.”

 

A tense silence stretches through the clearing once again but this time, Jaskier knows he can break it.

 

“My dear,” he says in his softest tone, “would you like to sit and have some food with us?”

 

It feels like the least he can do for her, and he wishes he could do more, but perhaps, giving her food and a space to talk will be enough for now.

 

She answers with a small nod and sits on a log close to the fire, looking a bit lost. Jaskier splits his food in half. He had been hungry prior to this, but now he will only be able to swallow a little bit of food, so it’s not much of a loss.

 

“Have you not heard about the rumours, my Anna isn’t the only one.”

 

Oh, so she had been the one to post the notice.

 

“We never spend much time in Kaedwen, really, so we haven’t heard.” 

 

Jaskier now wishes they hadn’t made their way to Kaedwen early this year, so he wouldn’t be aware of this atrocity. Normally, he’s only in Kaedwen for a few days as he says goodbye to Geralt for the winter. But this year, Geralt had heard of a greater amount of contracts in the country and thus, here they were, in early autumn. Geralt, of course, does not pay much attention to the gossip.

 

He is broken out of his thoughts as the woman speaks again.

 

“The rumours say there are hundreds.”

 

“Hundreds of women?”

 

“Hundreds of girls. Anna was 16.” 

 

The woman doesn’t say what the king does to the girls, but it's easy enough to understand the implications. Oh, right now, as his entire being fills with sorrow and fury, how he wishes Geralt did sometimes take contracts on monstrous humans too. 

 

The rest of the evening is silent, Jaskier doesn’t wish to talk and both his companions seem determined to be understandably taciturn. 

 

The young woman, for she is young, though it’s more visible now in her sadness than it was in her fury, leaves after eating a bit, but not before saying one final thing.

 

“My name is Zofia, if you ever need to find me. Though I don’t think I’ll be staying here long.”

Chapter 2

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.

Notes:

The song in this is 'Lady of the Lyre' by Vinny Marchi.

I remember first having it come up when I just let my music play and after really listening to the lyrics, I think I almost immediately messaged a friend going like: can you confirm to me that I'm not imagining things? This song is basically just a gender swapped Jaskier story.

This same friend can also attest to the fact that I said I would not try to figure out how to incorporate songs into fics until I was done with my dissertation. Apparently, this was a lie.

Chapter 3

Geralt isn’t sure why Jaskier agreed to come stay with him over winter when he was obviously longing for someone else. He hadn’t really slept that night, merely meditating, trying to ignore the gradually gentling smell of heartache as it transferred back into Jaskier’s normal orange blossom and honey scent as he slept.

 

The last thing he wanted was to be an imposition on the bard, but he knew better than to ask if he was sure… again. He’d asked multiple times and each time Jaskier looked at him like he was taking away the offer to go to Kaer Morhen and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Now that thought about it, he was glad the bard had accepted his offer. Now that he had heard the rumours, he wouldn’t be able to let him go back to Oxenfurt alone… or at least not leave Kaedwen alone. Obviously he probably wouldn’t be in too much trouble;. Zofia had said the king was only interested in girls, but, well… Jaskier is very pretty. That, or if he came across someone who needed help, even from the king, he would try to help, and he would get himself killed, which was quite the opposite of what Geralt wants.  

 

So, yes, he’s glad to be bringing Jaskier to Kaer Morhen and keep him safe but he would do anything to keep him from smelling like he did as he sang that song. 

 

Jaskier will also be able to make Geralt’s point about monsters better than he could. He agrees that something needs to be done but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to convince his brothers. But Jaskier is lovely, and charismatic, and he always knows what to say.

 

He almost doesn’t hear the small whimper indicating Jaskier waking, lost in thought and meditation as he is, but even though he’d managed to ignore the sounds of the market setting up, he was always much more attuned to Jaskier.

 

“What time is it?” Jaskier’s voice is kinda cute when he’s just waking up…

 

“Almost time for the market to open. We should get ready and get there early so we can get what we need and be on our way.”

 

Jaskier hummed in acknowledgment, and Geralt remembers when they had heard what the king was doing. He hadn’t really known what to do when Jaskier stopped talking, but as much as he used to complain Jaskier talked too much, he’s never going to say such a thing ever again now. It was awful.

 

—

 

They got ready relatively quickly. He managed to convince Jaskier not to wear anything too elaborate, there really wouldn’t be any use in it, especially since they won’t meet anyone before they start going up the trail.

 

He carefully avoids any thought of how nice Jaskier looks in the relaxed tunic and comfortable but practical breeches. He hadn’t realised Jaskier even owned such clothing but apparently he needed to stop being so ridiculous, that he needed clothes to relax in too (nevermind that Geralt has only ever seen him relax in his smallclothes, but he supposes it makes sense). 

 

Geralt lets Jaskier do the negotiating at the market. It proves his point actually; that he needs Jaskier to talk for him… he always knows what to say.

 

It makes their trip to the market quick enough that they’re on the road by mid morning. Jaskier walks by Roach humming quite happily and relatively carefree (though they’d not really been carefree since meeting Zofia). 

 

They make it half-way up the trail by the time the sun sets, and Jaskier immediately sets up camp without complaining, still humming sweetly. He puts their bed-rolls together again even though it's not quite cold enough to justify sleeping close to each other but Geralt would almost thank the circumstance that led to the change in their dynamic if only the reason weren’t so horrible. Still, for some reason he wants to keep the bard close.

 

He actually sleeps that night, luxuriating in the scent of Jaskier’s relaxation.

 

The next day, he hesitates next to Roach, but doesn’t get on her. They’ll be going up the Killer today, and he knows he can walk it, but Jaskier might not be able to.

 

Jaskier looks back at him in confusion as he stays still but Geralt doesn’t give him the opportunity to say anything. Instead he states, “just… get on.”

 

The bard doesn’t argue though he still looks somewhat perplexed. When they get to the most difficult portion of the trail, however, Geralt sees Jaskier’s eyes spark with understanding and perhaps appreciation.

 

He hears a gasp when Kaer Morhen comes into view. Though he is mostly used to it now, he remembers how it was when he first saw the keep. It’s impressive. Rising dark from the mountain peaks, it looms above the path. Jaskier must wonder why they weren’t able to see it before. Geralt had had wondered the same when he first arrived. It’s because, despite its large size, the keep is nestled so deeply into the rock that it only looks like a castle when gazed at from the front, after the last outcrop of rock. Suddenly, the tall mage’s towers soar above them and the gate is in sight.

 

Roach comes to a stop as Jaskier’s hands go slack on the reins in his awe. Now that the trail is no longer difficult, the bard hops off Roach and leads her towards Geralt. He doesn’t expect Jaskier’s kiss on his cheek as he hands over Roach’s reins, nor does he quite know what to do with the whispered thanks either. He fights the urge to put his hand over his cheek, however, though he doesn’t know why

 

Jaskier’s smile is blinding as he starts towards the gate, turning back to ask, “Well then, my dear, shall we get going?”

 

Geralt is still in a bit of a daze as they make their way to the entrance, but he recovers his alertness when a small head pops out of the wooden door in the gate after his knock. It’s one of the trainees, Daffyd, he thinks, going by the dark brown curls. It’s confirmed when mustard yellow eyes turn to him and the squeak of a young man’s voice that’s almost done changing pipes up, “Wolf! Hi! You’re back first… and early.”

 

Geralt clears his throat, hoping his voice doesn’t come out strangled. “Yes. Can you go get Vesemir for me? I need to talk to him.”

 

“Sure! I’ll go get…” Daffyd stops as his eyes fall on Jaskier who is still gazing upwards at the keep. “Who’s that?”

 

Jaskier’s gaze snaps down to the trainee and Geralt expects his normal showy bow and introduction but instead he smiles softly, and his voice is much the same as he says, “Jaskier the Bard, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Daffyd, go get Vesemir please.” He waits for Daffyd to be far enough away to turn to Jaskier. “Sorry about that, we apparently don’t teach them enough manners.”

 

He gets that same lovely smile. “It’s no problem, really. It’s quite sweet actually.”

 

It seems he would say more, but Vesemir clears his throat as he arrives.

 

“Wolf. You’re home early. And with a guest.”

 

“I… yes. Vesemir, we need to talk.”

 

All he gets is a raised eyebrow, maybe this’ll go well after all.

Notes:

I'm ba-ack! My dissertation is now done and my master's finished. I won't promise to update this regularly because ADHD and also I'll be job hunting but it should at least be *more* regularly...

Anyway! I hope you enjoy Geralt's POV, I'd love to hear what you think about it.

Chapter 4

Geralt’s behaviour has been noticeably bizarre, Jaskier decides, as he watches his witcher shrink slightly away from his father figure’s sceptical glance.

 

He doesn’t have much time to ponder this before the new witcher turns to him with a hand out to shake with an introduction that is distinctly more vocal than his first encounter with Geralt, “Vesemir, and you are?”

 

“Master Vesemir, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you,” Jaskier doesn’t mind the slight wince at his flowery bow, “I am Jaskier the Bard!”

He had expected that his over the top manners may not be the most welcome in Kaer Morhen, but in the end, they don’t seem to bother Geralt all that much now that he’s gotten over being gruff all the time, and Geralt’s opinion is really all that matters to him. He doesn’t want to embarrass Geralt, of course, but he also refuses to change his personality to be palatable for others.

 

When he looks up, however, he’s almost certain that there is amusement in the older witcher’s yellow eyes.

 

“The bard?” The uplift of the man’s voice definitely betrays his amusement even more clearly than his gaze.

 

“Indeed! Have you heard my songs?” 

 

“I have certainly received my fair share of tossed coins when I come down the mountain, yes.” 

 

Ok, so… perhaps Jaskier is more self conscious than he previously thought as he loosens up with those words. He hadn’t expected this sort of welcome, if he were to be completely honest with himself. Of course he knows Geralt would never bring him anywhere he would be unsafe, but being welcome is different than simply being safe. If he can gain the affection of those Geralt counts closest, he’ll be able to help Geralt as he always aims to do. The amusement in Vesemir’s eyes indicates he probably thinks him a silly artist, but respect can be gained later.

 

He feels Geralt’s hand touch his back accompanied by one of the witcher’s barely audible hums, bringing him out of his thoughts.

 

“Oh, yes! Best we get inside. I’m sure it’s worse in winter, of course, but I certainly don’t appreciate the chill now.”

 

He follows Vesemir's silent instructions, a hand outstretched towards the keep through the now wide open gate. Geralt’s hand, still on his back, guides him through a series of corridors and staircases until they reach a door unlocked by a key the white haired witcher produces. 

 

“We didn’t know you were coming, Master Bard, so you’ll have to stay with Geralt.”

 

“That’s quite alright, Master Witcher,” if the man was going to use his title, there was no reason for him not to respond in kind, “We’re used to sleeping in the same room.”

 

The oldest man’s eyebrows rose, perhaps so high that they would disappear into his grey hair if he didn’t keep it pulled back.

 

“Right… Wolf, shall we go talk? I’m assuming that’s why you’re back so early. And with your bard?”

 

“We can talk here, Vesemir. Jask knows what this conversation is about anyway… It’s about something we encountered in Kaedwen.”

 

The last part of Vesemir’s question had been filled with scepticism already, and it only got stronger at Geralt’s response. His eyebrows, which had seemed to have climbed as high on the man’s forehead as possible, made a valiant attempt at going even higher, twitching and bringing attention to the man’s widening eyes. Though the change was subtle, Jaskier has long learnt the art of reading the expressions of taciturn witchers. This is the doubt he had been expecting, and he’s certain Vesemir is aware that Geralt had come back for witcher business, so his surprise at Jaskier’s involvement is to be expected.

 

Geralt, of course, continues on as if he hasn’t noticed his mentor’s surprise with that verbosity he had found after the encounter with Zofia (which may not actually be enough to be termed “verbosity”, though it certainly is so for Geralt). Jaskier can only meet Vesemir’s eyes with an awkward smile, apologising for his almost son’s lack of tact.

 

“What if humans can be monsters too?”

 

Vesemir seems like he might splutter if he weren’t used to training spades of teenagers. Jaskier finally decides to intervene now, after all, this is partially why Geralt requested he join him for winter, so he could explain the situation tactfully .

 

“Shortly after we arrived in Kaedwen we encountered a woman searching for her young sister. The girl had been… attacked and killed. But the culprit is not a monster, he is a man who is rumoured to have done this to many girls and young women around the kingdom.”

 

The older witcher seems to seriously consider his words for a few moments.

 

“I personally would consider such a man to be a monster… Geralt, why are you bringing this to Kaer Morhen? You wouldn’t be the first witcher to kill a monstrous man, nor are you the last.”

 

Jaskier suddenly understands why Geralt used to behave so gruffly, especially in response to what Jaskier would consider trauma. He was mutated to deal with the darkness in the world and then constantly told to ignore anything that happens because it’s  “just the way the world is”. He now also understands why this incident seems to have struck Geralt so deeply, he didn’t kill the monstrous man, and he won’t be able to… at least not on his own, the king is too powerful for Geralt to enact any justice.

 

Geralt’s response is so quiet Jaskier can only just hear it as his thoughts push him to drift closer to his witcher in an attempt to offer the comfort he knows the other won’t accept until Vesemir is out of the room. He’s sure the other witcher hears it though.

 

“But that's just it, Vesemir. The culprit isn’t dead… and I can’t hunt him like I would a monster or a common monstrous man. It’s the King of Kaedwen.”

 

Vesemir finally gives up on hiding the shock that has been steadily growing in him and his eyes finally noticeably widen and his mouth opens slightly. 

 

“The King of Kaedwen?”

 

Geralt’s voice regains his usual gruffness, “aye.”

 

“You accepted a contract for a King… Geralt…”

 

There’s a softness of understanding in Vesemir’s voice. He raised Geralt, afterall, and Jaskier cannot believe Geralt’s kindness to be something recent. But there is the fear of a father in his voice, the fear that his child has done something terminally stupid. It’s not disappointment, really, not like the kind Jaskier’s father would levy at him for the smallest mistake, but he doesn’t know if there is anything he can do to fix the problem.

 

Geralt seems to respond to the parental tone by adopting a sheepish and childish tone Jaskier would never have expected he could make.

 

“No? Well… not technically. But… He can’t keep doing this! It’s not right!”

 

Jaskier feels like that tone would be more at home in his words, and though he is glad to see Geralt is comfortable enough here to let himself be distressed, it almost physically hurts him to see how much this event distresses the other man and he decides it really is time for him to take control of the conversation. He’s had his time to process the idea that someone could be so horrible as to assault and kill multiple people, but Geralt only seems to be giving himself the space to do it here. 

 

“It wasn’t a contract, as such. But… sir? Would you really feel comfortable letting such a man roam the continent? Even if he is a king?”

 

Vesemir’s focus shifts to him. It’s fairly clear he knows what Jaskier’s doing, but as he spots Jaskier’s hand on Geralt’s shoulder, a subtle attempt to comfort the other, Jaskier seems to gain that respect Vesemir hadn’t initially shown the bard. 

 

This time, Geralt’s distress had been too great for Jaskier to ignore. He didn’t know how he would deal with Geralt in this mood, new as it was, but he refused to leave the man in this state.

 

The old witcher seems to accept Geralt is likely not capable of finishing this conversation calmly and addresses Jaskier directly, “we will have to discuss this with the whole school if this conversation is going the way I think it is.”

 

Jaskier, with a calculating smile, perhaps shows off more of his nature than he normally does when meeting someone new, “why do you think we’re here?” His expression softens when he looks at Geralt again, “but he wanted to discuss it with you first.”

 

Vesemir also softens at that pronouncement, “I am not unsympathetic to the situation… and I do think men can be monsters.”

 

He seems to not know what else to say, so he then announces his departure from the room, leaving Jaskier to move even closer to Geralt and offer him the comfort he so clearly needs.

Notes:

Hello all! I am once again back! Really, I hate to be That Guy™ but well... My dad had an open heart surgery recently. I won't bore with the details but it's been *complicated*.

I think you may have figured out by now, I am not good at keeping to schedules, but I do plan on finishing this. I think this bit, introducing KM and other witchers might be the most difficult bit, so please be a bit patient while I figure out how to get the story really going. Hopefully it'll be easier after that (or maybe it'll be all new and interesting struggles).

Chapter 5

It’d been a hard night and week following the conversation with Vesemir, Geralt had been noticeably lethargic, Jaskier might even say languishing if it were anyone more emotional than his witcher. It was starting to get better, slowly, and something about the experience had made Geralt more clingy than before, but it felt like they had hit a wall in Geralt’s recovery, like Jaskier’s presence was helping but there was also something missing.

 

Of course, Jaskier would never complain about the increase in physical affection from Geralt; though he wondered at what changed in him, he indulged in Geralt’s soft touches on the small of his back, back of his neck, his shoulders… In private, Geralt even leaned on him, sitting next to him and putting his head on his shoulder and even though there’s no way for either of them to use the excuse that they need to snuggle up for warmth they still continue to do so, and unlike when they previously shared beds in inns, Geralt doesn’t keep his distance anymore. In fact, he could be described as positively cuddly. Despite all this affection, however, Jaskier could tell (from all the years he’d observed Geralt keeping basically all of his personality back) that Geralt hadn’t yet fully opened up to him. Not that he could bring himself to resent that, of course, he figured either it would come slowly or it wouldn’t ever come at all, but either way, he had more of Geralt than ever.

 

The evidence that something was missing, and the realisation of what that was, occurred two weeks into their stay at the kaer. The weather was finally shifting towards a winter chill, the frost lingering longer than just the night and morning until the sun hit it and turned it to dew. Jaskier rejoices in the fact that they had gotten here so early, this is normally the point in the year where Geralt begins to mutter about leaving him to his winter plans, or perhaps, when this weather reaches the plains below the mountain in a week or so. With how quickly their outpost freezes, he thinks Geralt may have been delaying their parting to the absolute latest for the past several years because he knows this keep eventually gets snowed in; a thought which warms him to his bones in a way the sun beaming down upon them cannot do. It can only brighten the puff of steam from his mouth as he stands in the courtyard of the castle watching Geralt train.

 

He turns to look towards the gate as the creaking of rusted metal and wood alerts him to its opening. A massive man enters, though that’s hardly uncommon in these parts, and Jaskier turns his gaze back to his favourite subject, until he hears the newcomer’s booming voice, that is.

 

“Geralt! You’re earlier than you normally are! No wonder there were no contracts left for me on the way.” The large man grabs Geralt by the shoulder to pull him into an embrace, which amazingly, Geralt allows himself to be pulled into.

 

Ah… The missing element, obviously, from the way Geralt seems to melt into the embrace. Jaskier takes in the man’s appearance. He is broad, slightly more than Geralt, in fact, with brown hair so dark that Jaskier would probably have mistaken it for black if the sun weren’t shining directly on it. He is handsome, too, and though a shallower person would think his appearance marred by the scar running down just missing his eye from his temple to the corner of his mouth, which makes him seem as if he is smirking or smiling when his face is in fact neutral, Jaskier thinks it only makes him more rugged, and he is stricken by this man in a way he never was before or since meeting Geralt. He can see the moment where what was joy at reuniting with Geralt earlier than usual turns into confusion and concern as he realises there is something different this year, especially as he takes in Jaskier’s presence.

 

In an attempt to relax this new acquaintance Jaskier adopts his silliest facade and performs his most ostentatious bow, swirling his hand in the air for a couple of rounds as he bends at the waist.

 

“Jaskier the bard at your service!”

 

There is a tightening around the witcher’s eyes as his confusion seems to deepen, but whatever he was about to say is interrupted by Geralt, who seems to have used Jaskier’s ridiculousness to recover.

 

“Jask…” Anyone who knew Geralt as well as he did would be able to tell that his put upon tone was an attempt to hide the fondness in his eyes. Evidently, from the newcomer’s confusion now directed at Geralt, the attempt is unsuccessful.

 

“This is Eskel, my brother in arms. He completed his training at the same time as I did.”

 

This introduction had caused Eskel to replace his confused look with a mischievous understanding. What Eskel had understood about Geralt, Jaskier couldn’t place, but he seemed to have decided something in that moment.

 

Before he could voice whatever he was thinking, however, Geralt turned to him and addressed him, his serious expression removing the levity from the conversation, “Eskel, there’s something I need to discuss with you… and I need your help.”

 

—

 

Unlike with Vesemir, it seems Geralt did not need Jaskier’s help to explain the situation to Eskel. Though his witcher evidently trusted his mentor, there was a closeness to his relationship with Eskel that he could never have with a father figure, a closeness not quite sibling-like, but one born of a long-standing closeness and devotion that led to them almost not needing words to communicate.

 

They were able to exchange greetings and a conversation Jaskier supposes is probably about him due to the furtive glances Eskel was sending him as they all walked towards his and Geralt’s room, however, the real topic of the conversation wasn’t a topic that could be discussed non-verbally. This was evidenced by Geralt beginning to speak once they had reached their destination.

 

“Eskel… Have you ever encountered a human monster?”

 

Jaskier supposes Geralt didn’t want or need his tact to have this conversation with his brother in arms, but he still winces at the bluntness of the statement. He refuses to intervene however, if Geralt needed his help, he would have asked.

 

The way Eskel reacts to Geralt recounting the rest of their encounter with Zofia tells Jaskier that he does, in fact, prefer Geralt’s directness on the subject, as he remains calm, with a barely perceptible anger mounting, as Geralt shows his own fury at the situation, a furor which finally explodes in both witchers when Geralt reveals the identity of the monster.

 

Eskel grasps Geralt by his forearms and leans his forehead against his, both of them breathing simultaneously, calming in each others’ arms, before he answers, “of course I’ll help you, Wolf.”

 

It is now that Jaskier finally understands why Geralt had invited him: the witcher trusts him to explain to people who he would never dare show this much emotion to why he needs to attack the King of Kaedwen, as Eskel is the only other person apart from Jaskier himself he would ever let see him in this state. 

 

That realisation strikes him in the chest as he looks on to the sweet scene in front of him of the two witchers with their eyes closed, forehead to forehead, arm in arm. Jaskier has the fleeting notion that he should feel jealous of not being in that position, being in love with Geralt as he is, but for some reason he feels none of that particular emotion in the moment.

 

Another realisation hits him then, too, now that he’s had the quiet to process it, and he rushes to tackle Geralt, “wait just a second! Everyone calls you ‘Wolf’ and yet you objected to me giving you the ‘White Wolf’ nickname!?”

 

Geralt, and an Eskel who hadn’t moved out of the way despite a flying bard, catches him, and suddenly they’re all laughing hysterically; despite current events, Jaskier thinks life is pretty good.

Notes:

I'm gonna stop making comments on my chapter timings. All I'm gonna say is they will come when they come, but I am currently still invested in this story and hoping I will be at least until I can finish a coherent story line.

That said, life has happened and I've graduated from my Master's degree! I can't quite believe it still, but take that as a kinda excuse... Not that I'll always have one of those...

But anyway! I was so excited about this chapter that I am plopping it here unedited, though it will be beta reviewed at some point and edited in the close future, I was *way* too impatient about delivering this chapter to you to wait for that... So I would love to hear what you think about it!

Chapter 6

Eskel’s arrival had presaged the arrival of all the wolves for winter. The keep now brims of witchers home from the Path. Geralt hadn’t seen Kaer Morhen fill in this way since before he had joined the Path himself, generally, he’s one of the last people to arrive back before first snow. 

 

He knows something is going to happen soon, more specifically, that he'll have to do something soon. Vesemir must have told some of the older witchers what he is about to do as they have been sending him furtive, but perhaps considering, looks at him in the recent days. It should be intimidating, but with Jaskier at his side, he knows he’ll have the words to say what he needs to say and with Eskel at his side, he’ll have the strength to do it.

 

The presence of both Eskel and Jaskier in his life at the same time had soothed something he hadn’t considered - Eskel had long been a comfort to him, since the decades they met, but recently, Jaskier had become just as comforting. He’d never considered how bringing them both together would impact his life, but now that he has both of them together, he is thankful. He probably wouldn’t have been able to deal with what he has now realised is his largest shift in his (moral) identity since he left for the path without both of them.

 

—

 

Vesemir comes to him a few weeks later, a few days after all of the school is home, after they’ve been snowed in, after they’ve had the time to mourn those who have only come back in spirit through their medallions.

 

“Geralt, I’ve convened the elders of the school. It might be best if you talk to them first before the rest of the school.”

 

Though it’s still early in the winter and Geralt wants to procrastinate this part of his plan for as long as possible, it isn’t really an option. He has planned this with Jaskier and Eskel, who has proven an invaluable help for navigating the potential politics of his choice in addition to his oratory prowess. He has to convince the elders and it is best done as soon as possible so that, if he successfully convinces them, they can have the planning mostly done by the time they present it to the rest of the school.

 

They will also have to convince the mages, but that will be at a later date. Geralt isn’t keen on having to interact with them at all, as they were the ones who decided he needed to go through a second set of the Grasses. Beyond that, however, since the schools have split, they seem to be content with just following the witchers in their political decisions and observing them as though the adult witchers were still a part of their magical experimentation. 

 

He enters a chamber he’s never been in before, though he had passed by the door leading to it many times, as he was never deemed interesting or old enough to attend a council of the elders. He is alone, as, for this, he cannot have either of his companions by his side (and he misses them like lost limbs) and he looks towards a horseshoe curved table filled with all his mentors and some other older witchers who decided they wouldn’t train the youngsters.

 

There is silence in the chamber before Vesemir breaks it, “Geralt here has discovered important information on the path he feels we should act on, though he seeks the wisdom of this council first.”

 

Prompted by Vesemir’s raised eyebrow, Geralt takes a deep breath and begins his tale. He explains the situation: how he had been directed towards the shallow grave of a young woman, a girl even, by a grieving sister, how, now that he knew where to look, he had spotted the same shallow graves, some newer, some older, in most of the villages he passed on his way to the foot of the mountain, how it was only when his path diverged from that of the monster that those graves stopped appearing but that there were very few Kaedweni villages unaffected. He gave his estimate of the number of victims, hopefully not in their hundreds, and their ages, ranging roughly from 14 to 26.

 

Then, following Jaskier’s idea, he asks the elders what their idea of the monster is, as he could not find any matching it’s description in the bestiary and thus did not know how to deal with it.

 

Predictably, they gave answers ranging from rare types of lower vampires to sentient creatures such as incubi or succubi and higher vampires.

 

It is at this moment that Geralt internally gloats at having brought Jaskier, as he would have gone about persuading them in a much blunter way which likely would not have worked.

 

“So you agree that even if it is a sentient being, they must be dealt with?”

 

Caught in the hubbub of all the elders instinctively agreeing with the question, only a few seem to realise where Geralt is leading them. And the following question causes the room to go silent again.

 

“So, you all agree whatever is causing this is a monster that must be dealt with; what if it's a human?”

 

Jaskier had thought it would be the most effective way of getting them to realise humans could be monsters too, presenting them with the information they would receive at the beginning of a hunt. It seems to work, too, as the silence is filled with the contemplative stares of old men realising that if they had been confronted with these circumstances they would have only thought the one capable of such cruelty to be a non-human monster.

 

Only Varin’s voice pipes up in disapproval of the idea. The rest of the council generally abhor cruelty unless they deem it necessary, however Varin had always been cruel to trainees even when he did not do it to teach them.

 

“We were created to protect humans, we couldn’t deal with a human as if they were a monster. I say let humans deal with humans themselves.”

 

It is now that Geralt goes off the script he had worked on with Jaskier and Eskel, “You know, I would agree with you if all of the reactions I’ve received from witchers after I told the story was that I wouldn’t be the first witcher to kill a human monster.” He sees nodding from the other council members and decides to go for the kill move, “Besides, the humans might have a hard time dealing with this one themselves… seeing as he’s the King of Kaedwen.”

 

The chamber once again erupts into sound as all the elders begin murmuring at each other, obviously pondering his points. He is fairly certain he’s convinced them, however, when he looks up at the table and sees most of his mentors looking at him approvingly and Vesemir nods.

Notes:

So... I've stopped asking for this to be beta-ed before I post it because, unsurprisingly, I have absolutely *no* patience. So if you see anything that doesn't make sense, please do tell me.

I hope you enjoy this, sorry for the irregularity of posting again, and I hope to be inspired to write again soon.

Chapter 7

The waiting for Geralt was beginning to get grating for Jaskier. Though he knows this is something his witcher has to do on his own, he cannot help but wish he could be there with him. He can’t exactly go out; he knows the other witchers are getting suspicious of Geralt, they know he is planning something. Bringing a human (as far as they all know, really, witchers should probably be better at recognising non-humans even when they’re not immediately hazardous to them or others) and having a meeting with the elders has definitely gotten their attention.

 

Though some of the witchers are grateful for the impacts of his songs, they are still suspicious of a stranger in their sanctum and they aren’t very happy about it, which Jaskier understands. He’s been very careful of not intruding on them as much as he is able to, hence why, without Geralt present, he stuck to strumming his lute in their room.

 

He had only just started workshopping one of his newest pieces (about Geralt, of course, even if he would probably never be able to tell him) when Eskel enters. Jaskier is too engrossed in his song to notice, however, as he had just decided to put the song in a more formal linguistic register than he normally would, making it the perfect courtly love song.

 

“Could though but only see

Thyself as I see thee

Thou wouldst learn to trust thy reflection

‘Tis the very soul of perfection

But thou’rst modest to a fault

Thee whom I exalt…

‘Tis better to be ardent than prudish…”

 

Jaskier is finally pulled out of his song when Eskel clears his throat behind him and his eyes snap open to see a pitying look in the witcher’s eyes. They stare at each other before he chooses to speak, “Are you sure you want to sing something like that when he could come into his own room at any moment?”

 

A rueful chuckle escapes Jaskier, “I’ve sung songs that are much more direct than something which could be mistaken for a generic traditional love song to his face before and he’s not noticed, so I doubt it would make any difference.”

 

That Eskel had noticed his feelings towards Geralt was unsurprising, overall, he seems to have a much more developed sense of emotional intelligence and he wasn’t used to Jaskier’s generally affectionate behaviour like Geralt had become. Besides, Eskel obviously knew Geralt was lovable, even if the man couldn’t see it himself.

 

“You could just tell him, you know.”

 

Jaskier’s chuckles once again, this time in slightly less bitter amusement, “I really couldn’t. You know, he only just started admitting to a friendship last month after we witnessed something incredibly traumatic and his entire worldview of monsters and humanity was turned on its head. I don’t know if he would take a love confession right now, too, he’s so stressed, always wanting to do the right thing, that man.” Jaskier smiled a bit more softly at Eskel, “besides, you haven’t told him how you feel about him either, and how long has it been? Decades?” Just like Eskel couldn’t miss the way Jaskier looked at Geralt, Jaskier was also not oblivious of the way the other witcher looked at him too.

 

Eskel’s face looks shocked.

 

“What, you didn’t think you were being subtle about it, I hope?”

 

“Well, Geralt hasn’t noticed!”

 

Finally, the laugh that bursts out of Jaskier is one of genuine amusement. “Geralt, notice emotions? Really?”

 

Eskel seems to realise what he said and also bursts into laughter. They shouldn’t be laughing about this really, but ultimately, they’re both two men stuck in the same situation: in love with a brilliant man who can’t even see his own light. 

 

When their laughter dies down, they find they’re leaning on each other and breathing hard. As their breaths slow, Eskel sits on the bed, “you know, Geralt might actually feel the same way.”

 

“If he does, for either of us,” he sees Eskel startle again, not expecting him to include him in Geralt’s potential love, “he’ll have to figure that out on his own. I will stay by his side and support him as much as I am able to, but I will not figure that out for him. I wouldn’t want to somehow influence him on something like that…”

 

Eskel is looking at him like he’s never seen anyone like him before, and perhaps he hasn’t, Jaskier is mostly a humble bard, but he certainly won’t dispel someone’s awe of him.

 

“Yes, bard, I think you’re right. Well, did Geralt give you a tour of the keep?”

 

Jaskier decides he can’t let go of an opportunity to spend time with a man who is obviously just as brilliant as his brother in arms and so he replies in one of his flirtiest voices, short of fluttering his eyelashes at the witcher, “Well.. Geralt has, but I’m sure your tour of the keep will be just as delightful as his was.”

 

“You know, if this is how you acted when you first met him, there’s no way he would realise you’d grown genuine feelings for him.”

 

Well then , Jaskier thinks, here’s another absolutely gorgeous witcher I need to convince of his brilliance .

 

—

 

Jaskier was correct in thinking Eskel’s tour would be as delightful as Geralt’s. They obviously have slightly different, but complementary interests, and when Eskel shows him the sign portion of the training yard, something had omitted, he manages to convince Eskel his to show him how it would be used and gleens from the comments of the witchers also training there that Eskel’s signs are some of the strongest of any witcher. Jaskier has seen Geralt’s signs before, of course, but impressive as they are they can’t compete with the glory of Eskel’s igni.

 

Jaskier already thought of Eskel as a very attractive man; he would have already attempted to scale like a tree if he had been in any other circumstance, but nothing can compare to seeing the man surrounded by a blaze of his own making. His unsheathed silver sword burns red and yellow along with his dark hair and eyes and he looks closer to a dragon than a man as he dances in his fire.

 

He’d learned years ago that witchers can smell emotions, and though he’s fairly certain he managed to contain his lust by the time Eskel returns to his side, he had noticed quite a few other witchers giving him slightly confused looks. It seems none of them can conceive of anyone they deem human being attracted to when they show their witcher sides. If he weren’t here on a very specific mission, he would probably try to prove them wrong in that assumption. 

 

After that, Eskel leads him to a lab, a place Geralt hadn’t neglected as much as quickly pass by with only a slight mention. After checking that there was nothing toxic in the lab he’d chosen, Eskel leads him into a cavernous and well-ventilated room that would have made his science orientated friends at Oxenfurt drool. In the middle of the room, stands a tall witcher with his long red curly hair drawn back in a hairstyle that brings attention to a steep widow’s peak and a long scar that runs down from the right of the peak to bisect the eyebrow below it and ending at the outer corner of his right eye. That and the light stubble along his jaw and above his mouth in a slightly darker red colour than his hair give him a mischievous and devilish look that draws Jaskier to him.

 

“So, you’re the human pest Geralt has brought,”

 

Jaskier’s eyebrows rise in shock, “Well then, I’ve been called many things but that’s a new one. You are? It’s ever so rude to not introduce oneself before insulting someone. I’m Jaskier”

 

He hears Eskel’s barely suppressed guffaw in the background and sees the ginger witcher’s vaguely hostile look shift to something more considering.

 

“I’m Lambert. So you’re the bard?”

 

“That’s better. Yes, I am. Now, what are you making?” He can’t help himself from getting excited, Geralt never agreed to teach him the secrets of witcher potions-making but it would be another way he could support him on the road if he learnt.

 

“Potions.”

 

“Yes, I can see that. Could you teach me?”

 

“No. The fumes are toxic to humans.”

 

Jaskier desperately wanted to ask if they were also toxic to half-elves, but as much as he admired the other witchers, his witcher would be the first to learn about that when time came to tell him.

 

They left the labs after that as Lambert’s patience was obviously waning. Eskel finishes up his tour by showing him some things Geralt had also shown him and brings him back to Geralt’s room.

 

They only have the time to sit down for a short time before Geralt bursts back into his room with his eyes shining with pride. Jaskier can’t help but throw himself in his witcher’s arms knowing for certain Geralt will catch him. 

 

“You did it!”

 

He can feel the grumble of, “only with your help,” vibrate against his chest.

 

Eskel joins the embrace at his back to chastise the other witcher, “yeah, but mostly because you’re in the right on this.”

 

Once again caught between the strong arms of two witchers, Jaskier can’t help but think he wouldn’t mind this happening more often.

Notes:

What's this? Two chapters in the same week? *shocked amazement*

Also, Jaskier and Eskel bonding is delightful to write. ...And I can't help finishing chapters with the three of them hugging when I can, apparently, but who can blame me?

Also, the lyrics in this are from Hildegard von Blingin's medieval cover of Birds of a Feather, and honestly it's brilliant, so you should check it out, and all the rest of her covers if you've never come across her before, they're amazing, especially the Pink Pony Club one... which also has really Jaskier vibes...

Chapter 8

Notes:

Please note, I've added 'The Inherent Tragedy of Witchers' tag for this chapter. It's not particularly explicit but it is sad so I thought ith best to forewarn.

The weeks following the meeting with the elder witchers, as the winter deepened along with the layer of snow now covering the ground of the keep, brought a mounting tension in the keep.

 

The other witchers are aware of an incoming change, and the mages, though Jaskier sees them rarely, grow more observant than they previously were. Jaskier isn’t quite sure what he should make of the latter group, especially as Eskel tells him more about the mutations they were forced to endure. Though he had known the basics of the process; witchers had always intrigued him, even prior to meeting Geralt, and he had scoured Oxenfurt’s libraries for all the information he could find about them. Hearing an account first hand, however, horrifies him, and he gives into the urge to hold Eskel through the tale. He wishes he could bring the same comfort to Geralt, but he knows the other witcher would never tell him this story, and from Eskel’s retelling, he understands why. He’ll just have to cuddle Geralt tightly without telling him why. He had known that Geralt was different from all the other witchers, especially after meeting all the witchers in the keep, but to hear that he had gone through an experience described as agony twice… Something so few children survived… Perhaps, the comfort he offers Eskel is comfort for the both of them, and Geralt in absentia.

 

So Jaskier has made his mind up about mages, or at least the mages attached to witcher schools: they look at them like a perpetual science experiment and there is something very sinister about their gaze. Jaskier vows, to himself, at least, that one day, he will do something to fix this tragedy, or at least make it better. He has no means of doing that right now, but he will find something eventually. 

 

Now, however, most of his attention is geared towards the rest of the witchers. They have been eying him, and finally, one of them approaches him when Geralt and Eskel are busy training (and if that isn’t just a glorious sight…) 

 

“You know, you’re the first outsider anyone one of us has ever brought back to the keep. And truly, I wouldn’t have ever expected it from Geralt.”

 

The witcher who has approached Jaskier is tall and broad, as witchers are wont to be, with short slightly wavy hair and a trim beard that thickens around his jaw and mouth but fades up into cheeks. His hair is almost black but the sun reveals it may be dark brown. He has sharp triangular brows that intensify his eyes and makes Jaskier feel scrutinised. 

 

“I’m Aubry.”

 

He has a smooth confident voice.

 

“Jaskier.”

 

“The poet. I’ve heard.”

 

“Poet? I would have thought most people here would describe me as a bard before a poet.”

 

“Perhaps, but both of those descriptors are correct, are they not? I appreciate the songs, of course. They have made our lives better, and they’re certainly better than the Lullaby of Woe… But you hardly seem animated enough for me to use the title of bard right now. Something is about to happen, isn’t is?”

 

“Ah, and you hope to ferret it out of me now that I’m alone.” Though the attempt is transparent, it brings a smile to Jaskier’s face. The directness is something he admires in witchers, so refreshing after having experienced the obsequiousness and hidden meanings of court or the long winded arguing of academia, even though he is very at home in those contexts. He tries to not let his amusement show too much as he continues, “I’m sure it will all come to a head soon.”

 

His attempt to keep the amusement out of his tone was unsuccessful as a similar tone is obvious in the witcher’s response, “See, I was hoping to stop it before it broke out into a brawl.”

 

With that reminder of the stakes, however, the amusement falls off Jaskier’s face as he turns to face his interlocutor, “Given what the ‘something’ is, I’m afraid that likely won’t be possible.”

 

“So he did meet with the elders for something important then.” Aubry doesn’t turn to face Jaskier, but he once again mirrors his tone. His eyes are fixed on Geralt and his increasingly impressive somersaulting.

 

“Well, you did say something was about to change.”

 

“Yes. But now, I’m expecting it will be groundbreaking.”

 

“It probably will be.”

 

“You’re acting very mysterious, you know.”

 

“I have to counteract the idea of the silly bard somehow.” 

 

They continue talking, though they never veer back into the dangerous territory of what’s about to happen. That evening proves Aubry correct, however, and it is certainly explosive.

Notes:

I'm back (back again)!

I think by now you all know to ignore me when I say I'm going to write more often so I won't even bother saying it again, but I will apologise and tell you that: no, this fic is not abandoned but I'm just writing as it comes to me.

Sorry this one was a bit of a shorter chapter but I think it's worth it.

Chapter 9

When Jaskier had told Geralt about Aubry’s comments, the witcher had hoped he could hold on without having to address his peers for a little while yet. As he enters the main hall of the keep, however, he can feel that that hope was optimistic. 

 

There is a tension hanging in the air, and when he enters, with Jaskier at his side, he can practically hear the necks of his brothers in arms snap towards him. He wasn’t late for supper. In fact, he was perfectly on time. But every single other witcher in the keep was already in the room. 

 

He says nothing as he slinks towards Eskel, Jaskier following him, equally silent.

 

The tension only mounts as they eat. A room full of nearly 70 witchers, even though they are trained for silence in their hunts, is very rarely quiet; something that is almost even more shocking when he realises that the trainees, who normally eat in the lesser hall, are also here. 

 

So this really is to be a whole school event, he thinks, slightly downtrodden at the realisation that though he knew he was doing the right thing, he was isolating himself from the pack, something he had always aimed not to do. He had never wished to be a lone wolf, he had already come so close to becoming one after his second set of Grasses, that feeling of loneliness he felt in the hours after, before Eskel managed to fight his way towards him, was one he never wished to repeat. After the second Grasses, when he returned to training, his brothers had originally been cautious, but when he showed them his strength and senses were the only things that had changed, and really the only things that differentiated him from them, they welcomed him back into the fold quickly. Now, he was risking his inclusion into this brothership with the actions he was about to undertake, even though he had already managed to convince the elders. 

 

He felt a pressure as something… someone… Jaskier… plastered himself against his side from thigh to shoulder. It brought him out of his fears, to some extent. He could fear exclusion from his school by going down this road, but this reminds him that he need not fear loneliness, as Eskel, on the other side, put his hand on his shoulder, he knows his companions would never allow him to feel alone.

 

His musings, now fond rather than melancholy, are interrupted by Vesemir standing from the top table. Normally, he would have had to bang on the table to get everyone’s attention, it may even have taken them a few minutes to quiet down, but the tension filling the room begins to crackle with electricity… or at least it seems so to Geralt.

 

Vesemir, unnecessarily, clears his throat.

 

“One of our members has brought an issue to our attention. An issue which needs to be remedied.” 

 

He needn’t have been mysterious about it, everyone in the room knows who had brought the issue back when they were meant to be resting. The same person who has brought a stranger to their sanctuary. He only hopes he’ll not be asked to speak about it in front of everyone; that had never really been his strong suit.

 

“I’ll let him explain it to you.” FUCK

 

As he stands he understands why Vesemir had needed to clear his throat. Everyone is staring at him and he feels small. 

 

He clears his throat.

 

“When I was on my way home, I found a contract.” 

 

Before this Jaskier had suggested he take a similar, somewhat theoretical, approach to this speech as he had for his argument in front of the elder., However, looking into the eyes of multiple of his brothers who walked the Path every year, who were still close to the world of humans, unlike most of the elders, he decides to take a different approach. He needs to actually tell the story so that they can see it through their eyes.

 

“It was a pretty standard contract really, a young woman, a child really, no older than our just grassed trainees… was missing. But when we found her, there was no monster around and no tracks we could follow, and with her sister, we found a shallow grave.”

 

It’s not quite true, of course. They hadn’t really looked for her, Zofia had found her herself, and they had never seen Anna’s grave. But it’s close enough that the other witchers would never smell the difference, especially as they are stunned to hear him talk so much, and the other witchers understand the implication. Monsters, the creatures at least, don’t dig graves.

 

“I tried to explain that a human monster is best dealt with by other humans. The sister, Zofia, is a mercenary, she could easily take her revenge… But she couldn’t. Because this isn’t a one off thing. Anna, the girl, is not the first to have fallen prey to this monster, even if she is the only one in the village. This monster travels around and is protected. And Zofia, who in any other circumstance could go up to a man and take her justice herself, asked me if it isn’t the case that we witchers kill monsters normal humans cannot deal with. I agree with her. I would have taken care of the monster right there and then. But I couldn’t do it without getting everyone here involved, so I thought it best to get your approval and maybe even your help before doing anything.”

 

Most of the other witchers, who aren’t as close to him, still seem struck with a freezing spell and Geralt can feel the power Jaskier enjoys when he performs even if he himself doesn’t enjoy it. His year mates, however, have seen him speak that much, even if he hadn’t done so for a long time, so they were aware he was capable of it. It’s Gweld, therefore, that interrupts him.

 

“Well, get on with it, who could possibly be so problematic!?” It’s lighthearted in tone, but he can read from Gweld’s face that he expects he won’t like his answer.

 

Geralt had hoped he could put it off for a bit longer. It’s an odd thing for him, trying to deflect being direct with a long speech.

 

“The King of Kaedwen.”

 

Silence once again grips the room, and Aubry, who Geralt knows had been expecting trouble, borrows one of his own most common lines, “fuck.”

 

After that, it's a cacophony, most of the things he can make out have some iteration of that word however.

 

“He has a fucking army!” however, stands out as it’s something he can actually respond to, since he’d prepared a response to that with Jaskier.

 

“Yes, but think about how many troops a basilisk, or a gryphon, or most of the monsters we fight, can take out? If they can take that many out, and we, one our one, can take the monster out, we together should be able to fight an army, right?”

 

He hadn’t been sure that would convince them, but Jaskier beams at him as he uses this argument. Besides, Geralt is all out of original ideas after he had to formulate that entire story in a convincing way.

 

The hall is once again calming down, but there is still agitation in the air.

 

“I don’t know if 70 witchers and 100 trainees would be enough to take on an actual army though.” Geralt is unable to make out who had said that, but before he can bring up another of the pre-prepared arguments, another timid voice piped up first, one he recognises. Its Daffyd, and the young man seems determined.

 

“I don’t think Geralt is suggesting that we fight, at least not those who haven’t received their medallions,” he’s right, of course, but it warms Geralt to realise how much the trainee trusts him and makes him glad he isn’t a trainer. “But, and I don’t think Geralt has thought of this yet, but… There’s more than just 70 witchers on the continent, or beyond.”

 

That wasn’t actually something Geralt had thought of yet, actually. But now that the idea is in his head, he realises that it’s a pretty good point, even if it would require him to convince even more people.

 

Lambert pipes up then, “I can get in contact with the Cats…”

 

Geralt is grateful for it as it brings most of the attention away from him as the others question how Lambert could be so confident in that ability, and he looks back up at the top table to see Vesemir nodding at him, a smile suggesting his approval on his lips.

Notes:

Hehehe... Oops. But I have an excuse, I got a job, so I have been exhausted as I got used to it. But now, hopefully, I'll be used to it and will be able to post more, though at this point, I make absolutely no promises.

Also, Daffyd is grassed but doesn't have his medallion, I mentioned his eye colour when he appeared earlier, which was a clue to that, but I don't know if it was obvious enough.

Chapter 10

After the night Geralt had stood in front of his brothers, the tension in the keep had fallen dramatically and Jaskier felt much more comfortable as the other witchers had stopped treating him as an omen of an ominous change and he could now sing to them almost nightly. It was nice to be enthusiastically appreciated by a group of people he admires greatly, and a hall-full of cheering witchers was louder than any tavern crowd he’d ever encountered.

 

He knows, as they all do, that a dramatic change was about to happen for witchers, though it’s a change they had all agreed was necessary. Jaskier’s life work up to now was to prove to the world that witchers were important, though he realised now that his songs could only form a small part of that. The witchers themselves needed to accept they had to be a larger part of the world than just hunting for monsters and then isolating themselves from the rest of the world when they weren’t doing that.

 

They seem to be throwing themselves headfirst into doing the necessary to cause this change. Letters had been sent out to every other witcher school; after Lambert’s admission that night, others had come forward with connections to all the schools. Some of them were old enough to have them wondering whether the connection, or even the schools, still existed at all. The fact that no one had heard of the school of the Crane for so long that they feared they might have all died saddened Jaskier greatly, though someone had (perhaps wishfully) brought up that they might have sailed off in protest of the gradually worsening attitudes towards witchers on the continent. 

 

It was due to this that Jaskier had learnt that each witcher school had different specialities, with the school of the Wolf the most balanced of them. 

 

He had written them all in his journal (barely managing to avoid drawing hearts around the entry about the Wolf School like an enamoured schoolboy):

 

• Cat School - Acrobatics (and knives)
• Viper School - Stealth (and knives)
• Griffin School - Signs
• Manticore School - Alchemy
• Crane School - Inventing and Marine
• Bear School - Strength (and puzzles?)
• Wolf School - a little bit of everything

 

He had also gathered all the information about the history of the creation of witchers and the splitting of the schools he could manage to get his hands on, though there were obvious holes where the history had been lost or where the witchers he was talking to refused to answer. He had found himself often seeking out Barmin as he collected more and more information, the eldest witcher in the keep seemed to be glad of the company and the opportunity to talk as though he no longer went out on the path, he could rarely converse with non-witchers. Jaskier was fascinated with the veritable font of wisdom the older man turned out to be. It was then, as they were conversing in the library, as had become their habit, that Barmin said something that throws Jaskier back into the present.

 

“I suppose thou, of all people, wou’d not have been surprised that a human noble coulde be a monster worthy of a witcher.”

 

Jaskier’s mind quiets from the melody that normally plagues it as he notes the purposeful emphasis of the sentence. They had yet to discuss the reason Jaskier had been brought to the keep, even though it was now the middle of winter and they had spent almost every second afternoon with each other as the younger and more able bodied witchers did what they needed to do and Jaskier wasn’t exploring the keep.

 

“Oh. So you noticed then, that Geralt’s pet human bard is no human after all?”

 

“Nor originally a bard either.”

 

That makes Jaskier laugh, “Is anyone originally a bard?”

 

Barmin also chuckles, “Aye. I suppose that is a point to be made. But aye, the human part of that.”

 

“You’re the first witcher to notice.”

 

“I have lived longer than them, and the witcher order then was much less isolated from humans. I knowe that a human who hast followed a witcher on the Path for 10 years wou’d not look just as though he had just come out of boyhood as thou doest. But they knowe not how to quantify human aging, nor the effects a lifestyle like theirs ought have on a human body and how that ought cause more rapid aging.”

 

“Huh. That explains much, actually. And to answer your original question, though I wasn’t surprised, I was shocked by how brutal and widespread it was.” He shudders. “My father, who is a human noble I could consider monstrous in some parts, did display love towards others: to my mother especially, the one from whom I inherited the elven part of my heritage. I’m certainly not a bastard who was targeted by the aristocratic circles I grew up in because of non-human blood, if that’s what you’re implying. It was subtle enough not to be noticed.”

 

Jaskier pauses but Barmin stays silent, seemingly realising that there is still more for him to get out.

 

“I knew that my peers would likely not be kind to me if they found out, but the protection of being the child of an Earl, even a disappointing one, - and believe me there is no doubt about that, I look far too much like him - would have stopped them from being outwardly cruel. But I have seen how they treat those they consider less than… which quite frankly is most everyone. But I left when I was quite young, too young, perhaps, to see all of their worst crimes.”

 

“Thou art now seeing them, alas.”

 

“Well, yes, but I doubt I could really have ever avoided them. At least, with what I’ve done of my life, I can now help do something about it.”

 

“Indeed thou canst. And thou art doing much, restoring the reputation of witchers.”

 

“I don’t and indeed can’t do it all by myself.”

 

“They do not know any better.”

 

Jaskier chortles again, though it is not a happy sound.

 

“I see what you mean. Geralt certainly expects no better from the world, though he was still surprised when we discovered it. He can sometimes be so optimistic for the world in a way that’s slightly astonishing to me.”

 

“He is but a pup.”

 

“I’m sure they all are to you. Anyways, it is getting late. Would you agree to keep this conversation secret for now?”

 

“Aye. To all three statements.”

 

Jaskier notes the amusement in Barmin’s voice as he leaves.

 

—

 

As the winter passes they receive responses from all schools, the last of which, from the Cranes, arrives the evening before Geralt and Jaskier planned on returning to the path. A few wolves had already filtered out of the keep as soon as the Killer had been passable, but it was still cause for a great celebration which brings every remaining witcher to the great hall, and with great celebrations, where there is a bard, there is also singing.

 

It’s the last song of the night, and even more so, the last time Jaskier will sing to this assembled group of witchers, at least for the year, so he brings out an old classic for partings. He sees the elders smile as they recognise a song which isn’t sung as much anymore.

 

Of all the money that e’er I had

I spent it in good company

And all the harm that e’er I done,

Alas it was to none but me

And all I’ve done for want of wit

To mem’ry now, I can’t recall

So fill to me the parting glass,

Good night and joy be with you all

 

He rises from where he had sat down to start the song (a tactic he uses to bring in the attention of his audience).

 

So fill to me the parting glass,

And drink a health whate’er befalls,

Then gently rise, and softly call,

Goodnight and joy be to you all

 

Now, as the music really picks up, he begins dancing about as is his usual manner.

 

Of all the comrades that e’er I had

Are sorry for my going away,

And all the sweethearts that e’er I had

Who’d wish me one more day to stay

But since it falls unto my lot,

That i should rise and you should not,

I’ll gently rise and softly call:

Goodnight and joy be to you all!

 

He sees Geralt’s wry shake of his head as he sings the line about lovers, but he does not get to finish the song as the beginning of his second chorus is interrupted by a loud banging sound. A wolf witcher who, as far as Jaskier knows, had departed from the keep that morning is the cause of the sound as the doors he forced open clash against the stone walls.

 

“I’ve just spotted a caravan coming up the mountain towards us.”

Notes:

Well, this was fun to write! I will not apologise for the cliffhanger, because perhaps things might actually get moving???

The song is The Parting Glass, a traditional Scottish song, which, as might be obvious from the lyrics was sung at the end of gatherings. I was listening to the version by Peter Hollens, if you want to get an idea of the vibe I was going for, but there are many versions of it and I shall have it stuck in my brain for the next couple of days probably.

I hope you enjoyed this!

Chapter 11

Immediately the halls erupted into panic. Or what would be panic if Jaskier weren’t standing in front of 50 battle hardened warriors. Instead, all the witchers leap up almost in unison and, with barely any words, they all start busying themselves with tasks - which were probably preassigned now that Jaskier considers it.

 

A hand grabs at his elbow and tugs gently. Eskel has a wry apologetic smile on his face, “Bard, I’m going to need you to head with the children,” it's almost as if he knows Jaskier is itching to argue because he follows up the gentle order with: “Geralt has an assigned task to do, but from the look on his face and the fact he keeps glancing back to you as he tries to complete that task… I think you going with them might be the best thing for all of us. It might also make the kids feel better.”

 

“For having known me only a couple of months, you’ve figured out how to manipulate me disturbingly quickly.” It’s the only response Jaskier can think to give because they both know that it worked.

 

Eskel’s grin turns slightly smug, but in a way that only makes him look even more ruggedly attractive, “Yes, well, when you pay enough attention to someone, you learn what makes them tick…” Eskel then looks at him up and down quickly, winks at him, and walks away.

 

It takes a few moments for Jaskier to gather himself and go about finding the older witcher trying to herd the young ones to their dormitories, which are set deep in the keep, so as to keep them furthest away from outside dangers. And though he has gathered himself enough to be able to shepherd some of the trainees who wanted to go and see all the fuss, internally he is still stunned - as far as he can remember, no witcher has ever flirted with him in so obvious a manner, if at all. At times he has considered that perhaps Geralt was trying, but it was never so distinct and he always asked himself if perhaps it was his imagination or wishful thinking. But this time, there was very little other way to interpret it, and he finds that coming from Eskel… perhaps he doesn’t mind it. It may be because he knows that they both share an affection for their White Wolf so it doesn’t come from a place of trying to hurt him. He won’t try to consider how to respond to this development, if at all, and certainly not now, and certainly not in these circumstances, and certainly not when…

 

“Mr. Bard?” a young voice pipes out.

 

Jaskier comes back to himself to notice that a young boy with bright green eyes is staring at him from his arms. He doesn’t remember when he picked up the lad, but seeing as he looks to be about 6, he has likely done so in the panic. He’d been so in his head he had not realised what his body was doing and now they were in the dormitory.

 

“Yes child?” 

 

“Is something dangerous happening?”

 

“I don’t think we know what’s happening.”

 

“I’m scared. The elders say I must be brave to be a witcher, but I’m scared.”

 

“Oh love, don’t worry, you have some years before you before you need to be brave and before you’re to be a witcher. If you think it would help, I can sing for you all.”

 

From the cheer emanating from the other children, it is obvious they had heard him. With their approval, he now considers what he could sing for them, until he remembers he had written a song about overcoming fear, perhaps even before meeting Geralt. It seems appropriate now.

 

I'm being followed by the rain clouds

My clothes are soaking up the pain that keeps pouring down

Too much more and I may drown

I'm being followed by the night sky

It stole away my sight, it seems I have lost my way

I need someone to be my guide

 

Listen to my voice

Close your frightened eyes

Hide behind my love for you

Fear's only a choice

One that we all must make someday

So know you're not alone in this

 

His aim was to remind them they were not alone, and as he sings the chorus, he feels the young boy cuddle closer and tap out the rhythm against his side.

 

I'm being frightened by the people

They look at me like I'm a scar upon their perfect skin

Perfect to only them

I'm being shadowed by my past

Reminding me of what I was and what I could become

My sins should stay where they belong

 

Listen to my voice

Close your frightened eyes

Hide behind my love for you

Fear's only a choice

One that we all must make someday

So know you're not alone in this

 

Now that he thinks about it, the lyrics are relevant to their lives as witchers. To survive, they must remember that they are not alone. Sometimes, he briefly considers the fact that Geralt might have died had he not been there. It isn’t something he likes to think of often as any possibility of a world without Geralt in it isn’t a place he wants to think of. But when he looks at the door of the dormitory, he sees Geralt and Eskel looking at him. Geralt has been so happy since they’ve been here, despite all the stress of their situation, and it's only more proof that even though he avoids community outside of the keep, he is not actually a solitary creature. Of course, Jaskier already knew that, it’s why he’s at times forced his company on Geralt even when he seemingly didn’t want it. It hasn’t blown up in his face yet.

 

I'm sick and tired of these rain clouds

That cover up the morning sun I so desperately seek

Just one tiny glimpse is all I need

A spark of hope is what I'm after

A single day with cloudless skies would surely make a change

A friend whispering, "It'll be alright"

 

Listen to my voice

Close your frightened eyes

Hide behind my love for you

Fear's only a choice

One that we all must make someday

 

Oh, listen to my voice

Close your frightened eyes

Hide behind my love for you

'Cause fear's only a choice

One that we all must make someday

So know you're not alone in this

 

By now, the children had noticed the two adult witchers at the door, and the room erupts into chaos as soon as the song is finished. Still with that disarming good humour in his voice, Eskel quiets them, “Alright lads, we need to take our bard back, but you’re safe to wander around the keep again - but it is time for bed, so you’d best be off to sleep. Lessons are off tomorrow as we are welcoming guests, but be sure to stay out of their paws, will you?”

 

Jaskier now has to find what to do with the sleepy boy in his arms but he is saved from having to deposit him onto a random bed when Daffyd appears next to him and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll take Jeremy, you have important adult things to do now,” so he thanks the young man with a pat on the head and manoeuvres around the throngs of children readying for bed to join Geralt and Eskel in the corridor.

 

“So, what’s happened, since I had to be kept out of trouble and couldn’t participate.”

 

Geralt’s face does what it always does when Jaskier’s said or done something to annoy him, often involving (or suggesting) danger. He growls, “Bard, there’s a reason…”

 

Jaskier knows this argument, he’s heard quite a few times in the past the almost decade they’ve travelled together, “You know dear, if you stopped making that face everytime I almost put myself in danger, I wouldn’t do it quite so often, it’s too cute.”

 

Geralt’s expression shifts to one of astonishment as Eskel splutters in the background. Jaskier decides that he won’t be giving either of them the time to recover from their reactions, “So, Eskel, what’s happened and how can I help.”

 

Being addressed seems to snap Eskel out of his surprised laughter, though not entirely as his amusement is still very obvious in his voice, “Well, to our surprise, at least one of the other witcher schools has decided to heed our summons. The Cats have decided to grace us with their presence, but forwent actually telling us they were coming.”

 

“Hence the kerfuffle this evening. I get it.”

 

Geralt is now exhibiting clear annoyance. From the little Jaskier has heard from him about the other witcher schools he understands that the annoyance comes partially from some of the Cats taking human contracts, but the last time they had discussed it, Jaskier had pointed out that perhaps now that they’d agreed that humans could be monsters, the line may not be that black and white - of course, some contracts had more to do with money than monsters, so some annoyance may still understandable.

 

“Anyway, now we are gathering all the Wolves who were doing other things so we may greet the other school properly,” Eskel continued as though Jaskier hadn’t gotten lost in his ponderance of Geralt’s face.

 

As they arrive in the great hall, a commotion is going on, and they see a lithe body leap high above everyone’s heads, soar towards them, and ultimately pounce onto Lambert who had entered alongside them. The witcher showing such athletic prowess is a handsome young man with short wavy brown hair that looked like it hadn’t just flown through the air at great speed. He is quite short, definitely shorter than any of the wolves, but still his clothing does nothing to conceal the strength he carries. His eyes, a bright, unnatural green, do not currently have the slit pupil witchers normally have, instead, his pupils are round like a cat who is playing with his favourite toy - which Jaskier supposes is exactly what they way he is holding on to Lambert. The new witcher breathes out an excited “Hi,” and Lambert responds in a slightly exhausted way that suggests this entire greeting is customary, “Hello Aiden.”

Notes:

Well, all I'll say is that I obviously didn't intent to not write for like 8 months, but I won't say it won't happen again because I obviously didn't plan it. Anyways, this story is *not* abandoned, it might just be slow to update, and for that I do apologise.

I hope you're all doing great, and please let me know what you think. Thank you all for reading!

Also, I forgot but the song is Rain Clouds by the Arcadian Wild! Can't forget credits, especially since it took so long for me to figure out which song to use!

Notes:

And another idea wouldn't leave my head when I really should have been working on academic stuff. (Thank goodness that's done. (For now.))

I said I would try to update once a week but I'm really bad at keeping to that so I don't promise consistency.

Beta-read by Turtlette (at least the beginning was, and I appreciated it very much, but I am impatient)