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Geralt was drunk.
He was so far past drunk that he was surprised he hadn’t given himself alcohol poisoning.
Not that it mattered because he was going to prove to Lambert, the arsehole, that he had just been lucky. That no, most people, witchers or not, can’t just summon a demon who will fall madly in love with you and obviously there was something wrong with Aiden because when Lambert had accidentally summoned him, Aiden had decided he didn’t want to go back to hell and preferred to stay with Geralt’s dickhead of a brother.
But as Geralt had said to Lambert and as he was now going to prove, that had just been a fluke and as much as Geralt liked Aiden, that demon was a weirdo, so no wonder he had wanted to stay here with Lambert.
It had been a long time since Geralt had felt any effects from alcohol, but then, being a Witcher in modern society meant that unless they brewed it themselves nothing could really touch them. Lambert and Aiden had announced their engagement and Lambert had provided his home-brewed white gull, so everyone at the party had been able to get pissed.
Geralt had seen Eskel around his flat somewhere, after they had helped each other leave Lambert's flat and staggered to Geralt’s place as it was closer, supporting one another all the way back so neither fell flat on their faces.
Geralt now staggered through his flat until he found his brother and started to nudge him with his foot. “Esk, Esk, wake up,” he whispered. Or at least he thought he had whispered, but the whine Eskel let out as he covered his head might have meant Geralt was louder than intended he had intended to be.
Never mind that though because Eskel was now awake. Good, because he had hidden the candles somewhere.
“Where are they, Esk?” Geralt slurred out.
Eskel finally sat up, looking green. Geralt wasn’t sure if he had any swallow to force down his brother’s throat; he hadn’t had a contract in a while and so hadn’t restocked up on his potions. Thank goodness for Jask … Geralt shut that train of thought right down. He would not, now or ever, think of his lost bard. It hurt too much to have lived nearly 600 years without Jaskier by his side and having never told the man how he had held Geralt’s entire heart in his hands when he had been alive.
No, a better use of Geralt’s time was kicking Eskel awake to help him prove his point to Lambert that he was just a lucky bastard in general, and wrong on principle.
Geralt finally annoyed Eskel enough for him to stand up and find the candles, grousing the entire time he did so. Geralt ignored all of his brothers complaining. As long as Eskel helped him prove Lambert wrong, he could whine all he liked, Geralt supposed.
“You know this is stupid? You know that right?” Eskel yawned as he finished lighting the candles with a pathetic Igni.
“Don’t care. Got to show him he’s wrong,” Geralt muttered as he finished pouring the salt all over his floor in a circle.
“I’m not helping you clean this shit up,” Eskel moaned before turning to stare at Geralt. “You have too much time on your hands.”
“We all do,” Geralt agreed with a roll of his eyes.
“Nu huh. I have a job,” Eskel declared, quite proud of the construction business he had created, one both of his brothers worked out occasionally when they needed to let some of their excess energy out considering monsters were few and far between nowadays.
“I don’t need to work,” Geralt rebuffed quickly, sticking his tongue out at Eskel.
Eskel couldn’t help but laugh. It had been a long time since Geralt had first found Cirilla, but between her and Jaskier, before old age had stolen the bard away from them all, the two of them had helped lighten Geralt’s heart. It had been hard for Geralt to be happy for the first 100 years or so after Jaskier died, but now he was playful and even occasionally fun, which was nice, especially when he was so drunk he had decided that summoning a demon was the best way to prove Lambert wrong.
Well it wouldn’t be the first time they had vanquished a demon if this went wrong, and probably wouldn't be the last time either considering today's humans had so much knowledge at their fingertips and were still so fucking foolish with it.
“So you're doing this?” Eskel checked one last time before placing himself on the settee. He may not want to be involved, but he was supposed to be a witness to the fact that “No, you can’t just summon a demon and they will fall madly in love with you, Lambert.”
Geralt finally stood up on his shaky legs as he opened the book he had snagged of Lambert (and that Aiden said never to read aloud from, but Aiden was a demon so no one trusted what he said) and started to chant in ancient Elder.
Geralt wasn’t sure how long he chanted for before suddenly the book caught on fire in his hands.
“Shit!” Eskel shouted as he jumped up from the settee to help Geralt.
Thankfully, drunk or not, Geralt was still a Witcher, with Witcher reflexes, and he managed to throw the burning book right into the middle of the summoning circle.
Eskel moved beside his brother and they watched together as the book turned to ash before their very eyes.
“Well, no idea how Lamb did it but …” Eskel trailed off as the living room was suddenly filled with a blinding light that caused both witchers to slam their eyes shut, their enhanced eyesight screaming at the pain from it.
Neither Witcher was sure how long they were on their knees, eyes closed, when a scent Geralt hadn’t smelt for much too long invaded his senses. “It can’t be …” he whispered, unwilling to open his eyes, because he was obviously drunk and imagining things now.
“It’s a demon brother, don’t trust it,” Eskel said softly as he stood on shaky feet and slowly opened his own eyes, ready to protect Geralt, who was still kneeling there with his head bowed, unable to look and have every unknown hope he had secretly been hoarding for over 600 years dashed.
“Well, that's a bit rude Eskel,” The demon said, hands on his hips.
“It can’t be you,” Eskel sneered as he formed igni in his hand, ready to protect both himself and Geralt.
“Now, come on. I know this is a bit unorthodox, but you summoned me and well … I can’t say I’m not happy about it,” the demon wearing Jaskier’s skin said as he softly smiled down at Geralt, who still hadn’t moved from his more prone position.
“Geralt …” The Demon-Jaskier called out softly.
“Don’t talk to him!” Eskel snarled as he quickly pulled out his phone and made a group call, not taking his eyes off the summoning circle and the demon in it.
“Whoa, calm down Esk …” the Demon-Jaskier said as he raised his hands in a sign of surrender.
Eskel wanted to cry at the sight before him and the way he wanted to accept this demon for the man whose skin it was wearing but knew he couldn’t.
They had all missed Jaskier; they had all mourned Jaskier for centuries, and now this demon was here shovelling their still lingering grief in their faces. It was no wonder Geralt was unable to move. His senses must be going haywire and confusing him.
Eskel heard complaints and swearing from his phone as it was answered by those on the other end of the line. Without looking Eskel put the phone to his ear as he growled at the Demon-Easier to stay still as he fidgeted inside the summoning circle.
Eskel wanted to be sick. This demon had every mannerism and facial expression of their beloved Jaskier and Eskel’s heart broke for himself, his family and especially for Geralt, all over again.
“Shut up! Yen, Ciri, get Ves. Aiden, bring Lamb here. We have a situation,” he ordered down the phone.
“What kind of situation?” Lambert’s tired but snarky voice called down the phone.
“Where is here?” the much calmer voice of Vesemir asked.
“Can’t explain. We're at Geralt's. Now!” Eskel demanded before putting the phone down to stop any of the arguments that were bound to happen at his ordering the others around.
Instead of being worried about more people turning up, the Demon-Easier smiled wide and bright, the same smile that Eskel remembered from his friend, and he hissed at the demon who just rolled his eyes at Eskel, not showing any hint of fear or worry.
“Ciri’s coming?” They asked. “Is she doing well? Though why you had to invite Yennefer I don’t know,” the demon said in the same snooty tone Jaskier had always used when it came to Yennefer.
“I said shut it!” Eskel yelled at the demon once more. He didn’t want to hear whatever twisted lies it would tell in Jaskier’s voice, especially as he could feel Geralt shaking behind him. Eskel’s heightened senses meant he could both hear Geralt’s slow tears as they hit his hardwood floor and smell them as they formed and his heart hurt even further for his brother.
The Demon just sighed and stuck his tongue out at Eskel before gracefully sitting himself down on the ground cross-legged as he tried to catch Geralt’s attention. Eskel was glad Geralt still hadn’t lifted his head.
Eskel was unsure how long they were there and had settled into an uncomfortable silence before he felt Geralt’s wards rip as Yennefer came through them first, fire in her hands, ready for a fight, the others following right behind her.
“Harpy,” she heard called out. The word stopped her advance when she heard that lost and long-dead voice.
She had to quickly extinguish the fire when she heard Cirilla scream out, “Jaskier,” and barrel forward. It took both Yennefer and Vesemir to hold the girl back as she called for Jaskier, who looked like he was close to tears himself.
Eskel had to admit the demon was a good actor, though he supposed they had to be to get unsuspecting beings to part with their souls.
“It’s a demon. Geralt accidentally summoned him,” Eskel explained quickly.
Lambert looked at Eskel, an almost identical grimace on both of their faces as they instantly paired up, a united front that stood between Geralt and the facade of the man he had loved and lost before ever having told him so.
“How do you accidentally summon a demon?” Yennefer asked as she glared at the Demon-Jaskier.
“I’m not actually a demon, you know?” the creature butted in, ignoring the hisses he received when he dared to speak to them. “Oh for …”
“Jaskier is dead!” Yennefer hissed out in answer.
“Yes, I know, considering I was there,” The Demon-Jaskier said, rolling his eyes. “Look, did your medallions stop working or something? Just throw one at me,” it said, as exasperated as everyone else.
“It will burn you, I can’t wear mine around Aiden,” Lambert said with a nasty smile as he pulled his out of his pocket where he kept it when at his home with Aiden and tossed it right at the Demon-Jaskier’s face, hoping to burn the visage of their long-dead bard away.
Demon-Jaskier just sighed as he caught the thing. The others watched in amazement as his hands didn't sizzle the way they should have. It then pointed a finger at Lambert mockingly before he touched it to his cheek.
It then looked at the back of the medallion intrigued, “You know I never got to see any of the other medallions up close. Yours is almost pristine. How is yours pristine and Geralt’s looks like every monster he has ever fought went for his?” it asked.
“Don’t talk about Geralt,” Eskel hissed out again.
“Oh, for the love of all that exists. What do I have to do to prove I am Jaskier? Because I am. Yennefer, why don’t you read my mind or something, Melanite knows you had no problems doing it before,” Jaskier snarled out as he threw the medallion back to Lambert, hitting him in the chest with it.
"Because I am not stupid enough to read the mind of a demon," Yennefer replied irritably.
“For the last fucking time, I AM NOT A DEMON!!!!” Jaskier screeched, his voice hitting a note none of the others had heard in the centuries since their Jaskier had been gone.
There was a stand still as everyone looked at one another, not sure what to do. How did one vanquish a demon who swore he wasn’t a demon whilst wearing the face of their friend and their brother's unrequited love? There was just no good way to do it.
“Look, from one demon to another …” Aiden started before snapping his mouth shut at the scathing look the other demon gave him. Aiden had heard of Jaskier and how he had not been afraid of anything and never had been, even as the only human in a very non-human circle of beings and even he, knowing this was just another demon before him, hadn’t expected that look to chill him to the bone. “Did he always glare like that are is that …” He trailed off, receiving his answer from a surprising source.
“Yes. he had no fear of anything in is life, it makes sense that he wouldn’t even after death,” Geralt said quietly from behind the barrier of others that were keeping him from the Demon-Jaskier’s sight.
“Geralt, I do not know what it will take for you to believe me, but I promise you I am not a demon. I am not here to harm any of you. I missed you. I found a way not to move on and I hijacked the summoning portal and managed to take the actual demons place. I am not a demon. I'm just me, I’m just Jaskier,” the Demon-Jaskier added, his shoulders now slumping with each refusal of the others to believe what he was saying.
“I don’t know either. If … How can you be Jaskier? I watched Jaskier die!” Geralt growled out, the tear tracks on his face did nothing to take away from the fierce scowl he was aiming at the demon. Not that the demon seemed to mind, in fact they seemed to relax the same way Jaskier did whenever Geralt sowed any kind of emotion verse his usual Stoic expression.
“If I could lend you some of the certainty I know you need to feel comfortable that I am actually myself I would. But I can’t. All I can do is stand here and say I am Jaskier. Jaskier is I and I have missed you more then you could ever know,” Demon-Jaskier beseeched Geralt to listen, to hear the sincerity in his words, to understand he was telling him nothing but the truth of the matter and every part of Geralt wanted to believe him. Knew that if his brothers hadn’t been there protecting him from his own folly he would have been through the binding circle and would have Jaskier, (demon or not) in his arms already.
"So how do we prove you’re you then?" Lambert suddenly asked, disrupting the look Geralt and Demon-Jaskier were giving one another.
“Well you have an actual demon right there? He said he was a demon right?” Jaskier said as he finally pulled his gaze away from Geralt and stared at Aiden in a way that made the actual demon very uncomfortable, as though the other male was looking through Aiden’s very existent soul.
“What do I have to do with this? None of this is my fault!” Aiden declared as he took a step back from the summoning circle. No way was he getting trapped in that or going near it when he had such a good thing going with Lambert. They were getting married for the Devil’s sake.
“What does Aiden being a demon have to do with anything?” Lambert asked as he glared at the Jaskier look a like.
“Oh for … He is your partner and you don’t know? He can sense other demons Lambert. They have an inbuilt demon sensor so they don’t poach on another’s contracts,” Jaskier said with an eye roll as though this was information everyone should know.
“So why doesn't he know then?" Lambert snapped, embarrassed about not knowing such a thing about the male he loved. The probably not Jaskier rolled his eyes wide enough for everyone to see before he made a sweeping gesture to the summoning circle around him.
“Look, I’m not saying you are a demon and I’m not saying your not. But it isn’t my responsibility to prove it either way and Im not stepping foot near that circle. I just got out of hell. I’m not going back!” Aiden declared crossing his arms and glaring at the man before him. The more he spoke, the more Aiden believed him that he wasn’t a demon. No demon was this straight laced and willing to prove themselves but that didn’t mean he was risking being taken back down below, not even for one of Lambert’s brothers who was clearly desperate to know the truth about the being before him.
“Can you Aiden?” Geralt asked softly, his voice rising above the others even though he whispered the question.
“Fine!” Aiden groused as he moved closer to the summoning circle, “But if I get held prisoner for ditching my demonic responsibilities I expect you and every Witcher you know to find a way to save me because they won’t let me be summoned now they know I am a flight risk,” Aiden said with an eye roll to hide how worried about this backfiring he really was.
“That isn’t the only way …” Probably Jaskier said, not flinching when several pairs of eyes glared at him.
“You just said it was!” Lambert snarled as he stood as close to Aiden as he could without grabbing the other male and dragging him out of Geralt’s flat quicker then anyone could blink.
“No, i didn’t Lambchop,” Jaskier said, ignoring the growl Lambert let out at the once familiar teasing nickname. That was a name between him and the log dead bard, not him and this imposter.
“Settle down!” Jaskier barked out in a way that had all the witchers standing straight, trained to listen when Jaskier got serious in his lifetime with them. “I said he could sense if I was a demon. However the summoning circle keeps me contained and any magic Aiden could pick up from me too. Just break the circle and he will be able to tell instantly,” he explained with faux patience.
“And let you loose?” Eskel asked incredulously.
“Ahh, have you all got so slow and old that you can’t even control one not a demon without a magic circle. Im embarrassed for you Eskel,” Jaskier retorted with a smirk as he saw all of the Witchers, including Vesemir, glare at the insult.
“I’m going to smash his face in!” Lambert growled out as he took a threatening step towards Jaskier.
“Oh I'm so scared. It might have been easy when I was just a regular human, but new I’m a demon right Lambert? Unless I’m not and then it’s still an unfair fight isn’t it?” Jaskier said with a sly smile as he tapped one of his somehow still lute calloused fingers against his chin in faux contemplation.
"I’m really gonna …"
“Shut up Lambert!” Geralt snapped before he finally moved before all the others to stand face to face with the being whose very essence screamed Jaskier. Geralt knew Jaskier, Geralt loved Jaskier even if he had never told the bard that and his very being knew that this man before him was his Jaskier, not some exaggerated caricature of the man his own heart still cried for during the long lonely years. “There’s enough of us, prepare whatever spells you need Yen, Ciri. Get the spectre oil on the swords, there are spares in my room and then we let him lose. He will either attack us and be returned to the underworld or Aiden will know he isn’t a demon and wee can figure this all out,” Geralt ordered, he couldn't take any more of this waiting around of this not knowing. He would rather fight a demon with his loves face then wait any longer to find out if his Jaskier actually did find a way to defy all the rules of the universe to come back to him, back to them.
Geralt wasn’t sure how long it took until Eskel pressed a freshly oiled silver sword into his hand, standing to his left as Lambert stood to his right, the three brother’s standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder helping him no matter what happened next.
Geralt felt it as Yennefer’s magic blew through his small flat, as a portion of the salt circle disappeared at her chanted words and as she used that same magic to slam the freshly released being to the ground holding him there as Aiden moved close, r even as he still eyes the rest of the salt circle distrustfully.
“Well that's a bit unnecessary isn’t if you witch?” the figure pinned to the floor spat out at Yennefer as he realised he couldn't move anything but his head, meaning he turned to glare at the sorceress who just raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Can’t believe I married you,” Jaskier mumbled from his prone position.
“Shut up talking!” Geralt ordered as he clenched his hand around his sword. Not wanting to hear another word out of the figures mouth until he knew. Every word, every mannerism made him believe it was his Jaskier but he had been tricked before, by Melatite they had all been tricked with enemies pretending to be loved ones over their long lives and Geralt knew if given the chance he would allow himself to get tricked by a demon if they came with the promise of giving him back his lost bard.
“Well like that's the first time I’ve heard that” Geralt heard Jaskier mumble before he looked at Geralt, a glare that Geralt knew like the scowl on his face looking at him as the prone Jaskier continued. “Have you been drinking? You have, haven’t you? No wonder you need a nap!” he snapped.
Geralt could see as Jaskier tried to lift his arms and point his finger at Geralt, he watched as the other got frustrated by his inability to move the way his body wanted him too and each movement, each expression, each mannerism convinced Geralt more and more that somehow this was his Jaskier, not a demon masquerading as the man.
“Aiden, check!” Geralt ordered, his gaze pinned by Jaskier’s bright, cornflower blue eyes.
“I’m checking but …”
“What? What is it?” Cirilla asked form where she had been standing in the corner penned in by Vesemir as the older Witcher didn’t trust her not to rush forward. She was centuries old and Geralt saw the moment that Jaskier’s eyes softened the way his own did whenever Cirilla reminded them both of the 13-year-old child who had stumbled into their life after fire and ruin had destroyed her life.
“He is confused Ciri because I am not a demon. Which I said. But I’m also not a demon,” Jaskier explained in that patient tone of his.
“He isn’t a demon?” Lambert echoed.
“No he is not,” Aiden agreed. “Though I have no idea what he is.”
"Jaskier smiled at the confusion happening around them. Maybe if they had let him explain they wouldn’t be as confused as they were by what he was, what he had now become.
“So if you aren’t a demon what are you?” Eskel demanded after looking at Geralt and seeing his brother wouldn’t be asking any questions. Geralt face screamed relief that Jaskier wasn’t a demon, but that didn’t prove anything, least of all that he was their Jaskier.
“I’m something a little more sacred then a demon. I’m something a bit lighter than that,” Jaskier finally said. Willing to explain now he had been given a chance to do so.
“So what, like the humans’ angels?” Lambert asked, voicing all of their confusion.
“Me an angel?” Jaskier asked as he doubled over laughing at the ludicrous thought of him being “pure” enough to be an angel of all things.
“Jaskier!” Geralt finally growled out when the others were starting to get irritated with Jaskier’s laughing. And what a relief was that to Geralt. No matter what he was, as long as Jaskier wasn’t a demon he was Geralt’s Jaskier. His bard, his best friend and the one who called to his heart even 600 years after his passing.
“I’m sorry for laughing … Actually I’m not. I’d make a very poor angel. Me an angel, imagine it,” Jaskier said as he tried to contain his mirth least he set his grumpy withers off again.
“Jaskier!” Geralt shouted this time.
“Fine. Fine you miser,” Jaskier grumped out as though Geralt was being the annoying one in this moment. Jaskier supposed he should appreciate how tolerant the others, especially Geralt whose senses had been bombarded since Jaskier first arrived, were being, but still the thought of him being angelic was too absurdly funny to him. “Alright, well it's a little hard to explain but I’m not a demon and I’m definitely not an angel,” Jaskier started to explain, smothering his chuckles that wanted to escape him. “Really it all boils down to me being a nuisance,” Jaskier admitted with a shrug, not sure exactly how to explain himself now he was being given the chance.
“A nuisance? What you just annoyed the higher beings into keeping you around. I can’t see it personally. As soon as you opened your mouth I would have expected them to smite you where you stood,” Yennefer said in an unimpressed voice, one eyebrow raised as she seemed to see into Jaskier’s very soul Not that Jaskier minded, it would just be more proof that he wasn’t a demon and still actually owned his own soul after all.
Jaskier beamed up at Yennefer form his now seated position on the floor. Secure in the knowledge she at least would understand what he was saying and vouch for him when she had all the facts. “So, I was a bit miserable. You were all miserable when I died. It was wonderful to know how much you all love me by the way,” Jaskier veered off in is explanation to send soft smiles to his friends, his family, his loved ones. Saving his last and brightest smile for Geralt, the man who had brightened Jaskier’s very life, no matter how many times things had gone wrong between and around them.
“Jaskier!” Geralt barked out once more, unable to relax in the knowledge that this was really Jaskier before him until he understood how it was possible.
Jaskier took a few deep breaths, finally calming himself down. He had been giddy on the relief of finally being back, of finally standing (or sitting) before Geralt and the others and he had allowed that to distract him from the obvious conflict written all over his Geralt. The least he could do was explain properly, to stop the jokes, even as he was relieved that he could finally joke and laugh with those he had loved and missed for far to many centuries.
“Right! You are correct. I apologise,” Jaskier relented, thinking quickly of how to best describe what had happened. “So all beliefs, all faiths, all gods are connected through time, just as our home was connected to the others with the conjunction of the spheres. Well apparently I am a very courageous bard, not that we didn't know that of course,” Jaskier said with a charming smile that didn’t say anyone but didn’t diminish through their lack of agreement. “As the only actual human in your lovely superhuman army, one who had helped you to become the hero you were destined to be Geralt, you know, through my singing that sounds like fillingless pie …” Jaskier trialled off, giving Geralt a moment to regret his long ago said words once more because he may have been courageous but he was also absurdly petty and proud of that character trait of his.
“Well anyway, they asked where I wanted my soul to reside and I aid wherever you will go. But your some kind of universal hero and I can't go where you go, so I said alright then, I will come back to you on the Continent. There was a lot of debating and I just sort of stayed out of the way of anyone wo could force me to move on whilst entertaining the disgruntled masses who had also just died. Apparently my singing and playing has a soothing effect and s they said i could hang around and if I could find a way to get back to you, they wouldn't stop me but they couldn't help me either.” Jaskier explained, grinning at the open mouths and speechless beings around him. Yes he was that courageous, that cunning, that good at his craft that all the higher beings of the world had given him a gift that none before seemed to have received and all those around him should know of this fact, Jaskier thought with glee.
“I see what you mean by annoying,” Yennefer snarked as she looked at Jaskier with relief in her eyes that he knew better than to comment on.
“OI! Just because your perception of my talents has always been skewed doesn't mean it is for others, including the higher beings of our universe. Did I mention that? The higher beings who liked my singing enough they left me to wander around and figure out how to get back to you all?” Jaskier asked with a raised eyebrow, grateful he was back of course, but already fed up at any insult to his skills and talent.
“Still just a humble bard right Jaskier?” Eskel butt in between what would obviously become a bickering session between Jaskier and Yennefer if they allowed it to.
“Oh so I am Jaskier now? Not a demon, not an angel?” Jaskier asked, his smile softening the sharp bite of his question.
It wasn’t Eskel or even Geralt who answered though. Before he knew it, Jaskier had an armful of tearful young woman as Cirilla threw herself into his arms and buried her head in the crook of his neck. “I missed you,” she said quietly as she hung on to Jaskier with all of her might.
“And I you, my little Lion cub. My look at you. Over 600 years old and you don’t look a day older than when I last saw you,” he said as he pressed his hand to the back of her head, cradling her gently as he held her back just as tightly as she held on to him, not even trying to suppress the tears that were now flowing down his face.
Cirilla’s greeting and Jaskier’s response to her opened the floodgates to the others finally believing he was who he said he was, that he was in fact their Jaskier returned to them. Jaskier was sure they would want more answers in the future, after all he had taken a demon’s place and hijacked the summoning as soon as he had realised it was Geralt’ voice calling through the aether, but all that could wait because now he had somehow ended up standing before Geralt, the others off to one side whispering and speculating between themselves, giving Jaskier and Geralt a pretence of privacy that both knew was false but neither minded. Not when it wouldn't matter who was in the room as they only had eyes for one another.
“Hello Geralt,” Jaskier said quietly, acting unaccustomedly shy as he faced his Witcher after so very long.
“Jaskier!” Geralt breathed out, finally believing what all of his sense had been telling him from the start. This WAS his Jaskier, here, alive, before him. Before Jaskier had even managed to stretch out his arm towards Geralt, Geralt had the other man in his arms, pressed against him, revelling in the feeling of Jaskier once more in his arms. Jaskier’s heartbeat in his ears, Jaskier’s scent in his nose. All of Geralt’s sense screamed Jaskier, Jaskier, Jaskier as they had always done when the other man was around him and this time, this time Geralt would allow himself to indulge in what he wanted, what he needed from the the other man and he hoped Jaskier felt the same.
“Jask, songbird …” Geralt said, his voice veering off as Jaskier raised those bright blue eyes of his to look directly into Geralt’s golden ones, to look right into Geralt’s soul the way he always had.
“Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he raised his hand to place on Geralt’s scruff covered cheek.
“I … I love you,” Geralt whispered into the space between them.
“What?” Jaskier asked in disbelief as he pulled back enough to see the earnestness, the truth of Geralt’s words reflected in the witchers eyes. "But you never …"
“You were human. You were going to leave. You were always going to leave me. But now your not,” Geralt admitted shamefaced as he looked at the emotions swirling in Jaskier’s eyes, worried he had misstepped and Jaskier would pull away from him now he knew the truth of Geralt’s heart.
“You are a fucking idiot Geralt!” Jaskier snarled into the witchers’ face before lowering his tone. “I have loved you almost from the start of knowing you. For most of my life my heart has called out to yours,” Jaskier admitted, a pretty pink blush now staining the bard’s cheeks.
“Does that mean …”
Jaskier didn’t waste any more time on words, any more time. He had spent all of his adult life loving Geralt and he had spent the last 600 years trying to find a way back to the other man just to stand by his side once more. This was more than Jaskier could ever have dreamed of but now it was here, before him, he would have been a fool not to take advantage of what was his for the taking. "Without waiting another moment Jaskier lurched forward and pressed his lips to Geralt's. Geralt responded immediately, kissing Jaskier back like a man possessed, like a man starved because that was what he had been, starved of his bard, of his love and now he had him and even time and age wouldn't be able to part them once more, Geralt wasn’t going to waste a moment.
There was so much to talk about , so much to share. 600 years spent yearning for one another and in this moment where it may as well have just been the two of them even with a room full of others, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that they were together, both within reach of one another and romantically.
Finally, after far to many lifetimes spent without one another, they were reunited at last.