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Jaskier was known for his proclivities. He did not become a bard of his standing from just talent alone, no. While of course he was known first and foremost for his songs and talent, Jaskier was also known, in certain circles, to be one of the most, oh, meticulous, of partners. It was also known that he wasn’t the pickiest; there were many a noble who he had bedded that would leap at the chance to once again have the Great Jaskier in their bed, and not all of them were the ladies that were so often expected. Of course, there were, but he was known to give equal affection to any person, regardless of gender. (This also happens to cross the species boundary, for Jaskier has been, on the occasion, known to frequent the beds of those who were not human; there was a particular brothel in Novigrad, run by succubi, who always had a door or two open for him. He’s had many a wild night there, both working and partaking. He enjoyed the act of caring for a partner, and if they so choose to pay him for it, what was he to do? Turn down good coin?)
Through the word of mouth, (for nobles are a rather gossipy sort) it became known that Jaskier was also, currently, attempting to get in the good graces of a Witcher. This was often met with scorn and worry, for Witcher’s were ghastly beasts, and not the sort that Jaskier should be cavorting about with, and well. They did not want to lose their favorite bedmate to a Witcher.
Jaskier, of course, was only vaguely aware of his reputation. He did acknowledge that his reputation did precede him in some nobles’ estates, but that was also tempered with the fact that he was often thrown out of others for similar reasons. He was aware of the certain favors that he received in some courts, but had accepted it as a boon to being one of the greatest, if not the greatest, bards of his time. (That Valdo Marx can take his Cidaris and shove it. What is one place when compared to many? Granted, Jaskier was banned from as many as he was welcomed, but that was neither here nor there.)
Unaware of his reputation amongst the nobles, Jaskier had his eyes set on a new prize, however. That prize, of course, being his darling Witcher, Geralt of Rivia.
While his traditional methods of wooing were very much going unnoticed and ignored, Jaskier was determined to court his Witcher in a way that would show just how much he meant to the bard. Of course, this was dependent on Geralt realizing that he was being courted. In this matter, Jaskier may have had a little too much hope. Geralt, being the Witcher he was, was rarely involved in human society, or society in general to be honest. He was no more aware of Jaskier’s attempts to court him than he was of Jaskier’s own reputation; that is to say, he knew absolutely nothing of either.
Of Jaskier’s more recent attempts, they had wandered into a field of wildflowers one day, and Jaskier, pleading, somehow managed to convince Geralt to stop for a bit, relax.Geralt did consent to stopping, but not the relaxing part. Ever vigilant, Geralt took the time to sharpen his swords while Jaskier ran about like a child finally set loose. Roach took the opportunity to find some sweet grass and eat her fill.
Jaskier, arms full of various flowers, all purple and blue and green, plopped down next to Geralt, stuck a tulip behind his ear, and began to sing softly as he braided his spoils into a crown.
“It’s what my heart just yearns to say
In ways that can’t be said
It’s what my rotting bones will sing….”
Still singing softly, Jaskier pressed a completed crown onto Geralt’s head, giving him a soft smile at the short glare passed his way.
Geralt grunted and eyed his bard. It was unusual that he sang something so soft and sad, so he would take the crown with no further displeasure. It was harmless, anyway.
He went to return his whetting stone to his pack, and when he went back to Jaskier, Jaskier was laying down, leaning against Roach’s side, eyes closed and humming, a matching crown on his head, and one on Roach behind him. Geralt allowed himself a flicker of happiness and a small smile before he too, lay down, right next to his friend.
~
While those who were invested in Jaskier’s reputation and the state of his single-ness were unaware of the day to day activities of the bard they so avidly watched, they could tell that something was changing. Some decided that this was for the better- that the bard, getting distracted for good, would be a boon to them, and they could turn their attention elsewhere. These were mostly those who had hearts, which is uncommon in nobles, or those who decided that the bard was a passing fancy and they could turn back to their wives. It wasn't acceptable to be seen with another man, they figured.
There were also those who wished to see the bard as their own, however, and on occasion, would go to drastic measures to sway him to their sides. Of course, it never worked out too well for them in the end, as Jaskier always returned to his Witchers side and his Witcher would always return to his bard’s side.
One such noble, a Lord Zander from a nowhere land in Kaedwen, a man of little importance, had organized a ruse to catch the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, and finally have Jaskier as his own, once and for all. This, needless to say, did not end well for him or for his men.
He had organized a contract for a noonwraith, and set it as a trap for the Witcher, with his men hiding, ready to spring forward and surprise the Witcher then take him out for good. Lord Zander then would be able to comfort the grieving Jaskier, lending a shoulder to cry on. This would then allow the lord to further seduce Jaskier and eventually keep him at his court as his bard and closest confidant. Yes, it was a plan thought out, but only to the briefest of moments.
Lord Zander did not take into account any actual research, and decided that since the target was a Witcher, there would be no need to have any extravagant measures to fool him. Witchers were simple creatures, after all. Lord Zander thought wrong.
Geralt, upon hearing of the contract, took Jaskier in tow to Lord Zander’s court, and took the contract. Upon talking to the townspeople, however, he quickly realized that there was no noonwraith, and that something worse was afoot. He still made it to the field in which the supposed noonwraith was, but was wary and on guard for anything that may appear.
His advanced hearing let him know of the contingent of soldiers waiting for him just beyond the bushes. The soldiers, unaware or perhaps just uncaring of the Witcher’s hearing, spoke of the plan, and made vulgar suggestions as to what Jaskier would face in the Lord’s bed. Geralt, upon hearing this, immediately went into a rage.
At the end of the fight, Geralt was the last man standing, steel sword in hand. He immediately turned back, and left at a run to go and rescue his bard.
Jaskier, meanwhile, had the inkling that something was going to go horribly wrong, but was forced to play for a feast held by the Lord, which had been planned to keep him at the estate. The lord had been getting very handy with Jaskier, and while Jaskier had fallen into bed with this particular lord before, past consent does not mean future consent, and he planned to make a very swift getaway before he could be summoned to his bed. There was something about the glint in Zander’s eyes that left Jaskier unsettled, and he only had to wait for Geralt to come back before he could make his hasty exit.
Jaskier was in the middle of a set when Geralt stormed in, vicious and not nearly as covered in blood and various dirt and viscera that he normally would be after a hunt. He stormed up to the lord, shoving hapless nobles out of his way as he went. His sword raised, he took hold of the lord by his front and threw him up against the wall. A sword to his throat, the lord was only able to make a weak quivering noise, and Geralt could smell the piss trickling down his leg.
“I don’t know who you think you are,” started Geralt, staring dead into the lord’s eyes, “or what you think you’re doing,” Geralt shifted, putting more pressure on the lord’s throat as he growled out his next words, “but the bard. Is. Mine.”
Growling, Geralt let off the lord, starting at his guards as they attempted to stop him. He made a ferocious figure though, and they didn’t dare to take any more of his ire than necessary. Jaskier, who had been watching this all unfold and who had let out a soft little meep when Geralt claimed him, was grabbed by the arm by a passing Geralt, and swiftly tugged out of the court. His packs were thankfully still with Roach, for he had no time to claim a room before the start of the feast. There would have been no time to grab them with the way that Geralt hauled him out.
Geralt was so caught up in his anger that he didn’t notice how Jaskier smelled of lust, and didn’t realize how much stronger it had become once he had staked his claim.
This story, helpfully told in exaggerated tones, told of how you must not come between the bard and the Witcher, for the Witcher will always come for the bard, and the bard will always go with the Witcher. There were not many who would dare to gain the Witcher’s ire after that attempt, and the nobles quickly realized that if they stood no chance of stealing Jaskier away.
Jaskier, meanwhile, had redoubled his efforts of courting his Witcher since the feast, and while flower crowns and lazy days were all well and good, there were certain symbols that should break the wall between them. One of which, of course, was his personal seal.
Now, Jaskier realized that Geralt was not the sort of person to wear jewelry, his medallion the exception. If he could get a pendant or medallion made to go behind what Geralt already wore, that would most likely be the best way to do it.
Yes, that was a plan. Unfortunately, it would be a long term plan, and Jaskier doesn't want to wait for as long as it may take. There would need to be a backup plan here, something that he could enact in the meantime. What was it that Witchers liked and could be construed as a courting gift? Swords, daggers, knives and the like could work, but Jaskier would be more drawn to something that was pretty then would have value to a Witcher. Most of the traditional things were not things that Geralt would want or appreciate. There were always the non-physical, but Jaskier already wrote poetry and songs in Geralt’s name and they often went unappreciated as well. It was rather unfortunate.
He could, of course, lavish Geralt with affection, and do things such as draw baths, wash his hair, give massages… but unfortunately Jaskier already did things like that on a daily basis, and Geralt seemed to be no more aware of the feelings that were being sent his way.
It was rather unfortunate, Jaskier thought, that the things that Geralt would appreciate were the things that he was already doing. Well, there was one more thing that Jaskier could step up in, he guessed. Wolves could show their appreciation for a mate by providing, and well. Geralt was a wolf Witcher, after all. And it doesn’t hurt that wolves mate for life, either. Smart animals, really, and if Jaskier could mate with Geralt for life, he would jump at the chance.
It was decided, then. Jaskier would provide for Geralt, and step up to the plate. Show him what a benefit it would be to fall into a romantic relationship with him, and hopefully he would return the feelings. He would also further the attention that he lavished on Geralt, and hopefully that would also help. After all, Jaskier was the main civilized contact that Geralt had for most of the year. (That’s not to say that his brothers weren’t civilized, but they were more of the, uh. Roughshod type. Jaskier’s heard stories.) Left to his own devices, Jaskier feared what Geralt would get up to. Probably not talk for a decade, and then lose that lovely low and gravelly voice that sent shivers down Jaskier’s spine…. And that wouldn’t do at all.
Jaskier then took the liberty to call for rests in the various towns that they passed, and always made sure to pay before Geralt could, usually while Geralt was finding some lodging for Roach. Geralt usually found this suspicious, but often left it alone after a glare. Jaskier also made it a point to make sure that Geralt’s food was paid for, which left a little more room for suspicion, but Jaskier was luckily often in the middle of a performance when the glares came, and could brush them off easily. (It didn’t hurt that there was often a bath prepared for Geralt when he was ready. The man did love his baths.)
Geralt did try to get by without Jaskier’s coin, but Jaskier was often crafty enough to get ahead of Geralt. He found a game of it, honestly, and enjoyed finding ways to outdo Geralt.
Jaskier also made sure that Roach was not left out in the spoils, for Geralt loved Roach more than just about anything on land. Or sea. Roach was Geralt’s preferred company, and while Jaskier got on well with the horse, pampering never went astray.
Geralt, for his manner, wasn’t able to contest the attention that Jaskier gave Roach. His horse was the pride of his life, and to see someone else take pride and joy in her felt nice. Roach, for her matter, liked the sweet treats that Jaskier fed her, and enjoyed the brushes and attention so lovingly doted upon her. She really was a very spoiled horse.
This way of paying and providing for Geralt went well for several weeks, and then one day, as things were wont to do, it all came to a head. Geralt, who had had an unfortunate run in with some monster that Jaskier would rather not name, came back with armor hanging by strings. Well, not literally, but Jaskier was a bard, and what is a bard if not an excuse to be dramatic?
Jaskier saw his Witcher, armor barely managing to stay on, and immediately set to work. Tutting, he set to helping divest Geralt of his armor, and started in on him at once.
“Really, Geralt, one would think that a Witcher would take care of their armor, and not leave it to practically decompose on one’s body! Aren’t you always talking about being practical, Geralt? Why did you think it was a good idea to let it get into such a state, and why would you then think that going out on a contract was acceptable! It’s almost as though you were trying to give me a heart attack, really.” Turning Geralt around and facing his back, Jaskier continued with his litany of complaints, a worrying part of his heart twisting at the lack of care that Geralt showed.
Geralt, for his part, merely grunted and allowed himself a small smile at the care and worry his friend showed. It felt nice to be cared for, even if the cause was his own negligence that caused it. He did know better, truth be told, and if Vesemir heard about what he’d pulled, he would be running laps around the keep for all eternity. And really, he had been meaning to get a new set of armor, but none of the towns that they had passed had the capabilities but had contracts, and his own maintenance was lacking. He had been distracted by Jaskier, and what exactly he was attempting to accomplish with his new fad of paying for Geralt. Which, honestly, was a boon, for the extra coin now allowed Geralt to buy a new set of armor instead of just fixing his old set until winter came.
He let Jaskier fuss over him and took solace in the worry that creased his brow. Jaskier was a true friend indeed. And if Geralt sometimes wished that he was more than that, well, that was a matter for the privacy of his own daydreams. No one can love a beast such as a Witcher, after all.
He, of course, did not have time to procure another set of armor before his next hunt. The next large town that they travelled to had an urgent job for a wyvern that Geralt immediately went to deal with while leaving Jaskier to find lodgings. Jaskier, taking this time to also check out the market and stores that the town offered, was able to find a tailor who would be able to create another set of armor for Geralt. He also found a blacksmith, from who he ordered a rather nice set of throwing knives for himself, as well as a short sword that he could start wearing with the guise of Geralt teaching him swordsmanship. Jaskier, a noble by birth, of course already knew how to handle a short sword, but what Geralt didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Jaskier’s remaining following ate up the gossip of his new sugar baby with ease, and most were rooting for the two to get together. Many a coin was passed in a bet to guess the exact moment of their uh. Coupling, as it were. (Of course, there were those who believed that Jaskier already had his way with Geralt, and those who believed that they truly were just the best of friends, really, nothing more!) They tittered quietly to themselves after they heard word of Jaskier commissioning armor for Geralt, (imaging, no doubt, the tenderness in which Jaskier would help Geralt with putting it on, with the buckles and straps… they were unaware that Jaskier wasn’t allowed to help Geralt, and in taking off the armor, Geralt was usually bloodied and there was a considerable amount of swearing.)
There was also many an exclamation on word of Geralt training Jaskier in the way of the sword. (Those who were aware of Jaskier’s upbringing brought up the fact that he obviously already was learned in the art of the sword, and claimed it gave further credence to the further wooing of Geralt. They were, of course, correct, for what better way to woo someone then dramatically fall into their arms, sword in hand?)
Geralt, of course, was thrilled with his new armor as well as the opportunity to show Jaskier exactly how to defend himself. Jaskier was just glad his plan seemed to be working, and he was doubly glad for the strong arms of his Witcher that often wrapped around him while showing him how to hold his sword.
Jaskier had, unfortunately, run out of ideas to continue courting Geralt, and so the providing and the lessons continued ‘till fall, and when it was time for them to separate, they did so with great reluctance. Geralt hadn’t managed to pluck up the courage to ask Jaskier to travel to Kear Morhen with him, and Jaskier would never compromise his Witcher by asking before he was ready. It also, of course, would give him time to enact his plan, the piece de resistance in courting Geralt, which would finally make the eyes on the big oaf open.
With quiet promises to meet again in the spring, and longing in their eyes, they hugged just before they both went their separate ways, Geralt to the mountains, and Jaskier to Oxenfurt. While they both wished nothing more then to look back, to catch one last glimpse of the other, neither did. They both knew that that one last glimpse would turn into another week of traveling, and it was for the better that they both left before winter. Maybe next year, they both thought. Maybe. It was these empty promises they made to themselves almost every year, and empty promises that Jaskier hoped he wouldn’t have to make the next.
Once at Oxenfurt, Jaskier immediately went to his favorite jeweler to commission a couple pieces. Besides the gift for Geralt, Jaskier had a thing or two in mind for himself. He had a very successful summer, after all, and he deserved to treat himself. (This is regardless of the fact that Jaskier often “treated himself”.)
Jaskier’s fan club kept a keen eye on him as he went about teaching that winter, and the gifts that he commissioned kept tongues wagging. There was excitement in the air, and most of those who followed Jaskier closely couldn’t wait for spring, and to see how the reunion between their favorite couple would go. Jaskier, of course, was oblivious to the latest gossip about himself. While he did have a keen ear for gossip, the tales of himself were something that he long ago learned to avoid. It doesn’t do well to get angry over the smallest falsities, after all. That bit about him being, uh, impotent, was absolute slander and untrue regardless!
Geralt, meanwhile, was back in Kear Morhen for the winter, and was being absolutely destroyed with the mocking of his brothers, most notably Lambert. Lambert did take his fair share, however, but he was able to bring Aiden to the Kear, while Geralt failed at bring along his bard yet again. (Eskel, the gentle giant, had no one he was pining over, and thus wasn’t mocked in the way of love. And honestly, if he were, he could just set Lil Bleater on his brothers. Lil Bleater was a ferocious goat, and deserved the fear she caused.) Vesemir, on his part, mostly just shook his head at his children, but did manage to get a few quips in.
And that was how the winter passed. Jaskier teaching, Geralt getting ruthlessly mocked between bouts of training and repairs, and fans of the couple watching eagerly. Jaskier’s commission was finished, and he picked it up for inspection before slipping it into a pocket on his breast, just above his heart. Geralt fed Roach, and gave half a thought to finding something for Jaskier, to show his appreciation. Unsure, he turned to Vesemir, the one who would be least likely to mock his plan. With his help, Geralt was able to go on a hunt and find something that would work well for his friend. They both eagerly looked to the skies every day, waiting until it warmed enough to meet.
The day finally came for them to set off for their rendezvous, and Jaskier started off with a bright smile and a jaunty wave to everyone that saw him off, as well as those who just stared in befuddlement. Not everyone was at the city gates to see him off, regardless of what Jaskier may have thought. Those who were, however, made sure to get the rumors circulating. A canny fan or two followed him surreptitiously, in an effort to view the reunion in person.
Geralt left Kear Morhen as he usually did, with only a couple extra packs to show for the winter. Eskel, who had accompanied him down the mountain, left him at the first village, but not before telling him how much he would like to see the bard next winter. Geralt could only grunt.
It was in a no name town that they finally met up again. Jaskier had settled in at the local tavern, propped up in the front of the room, lute in hand. Geralt stormed in like he was wont to do, a hulking figure of black and silver. The first thing he saw was Jaskier. Jaskier gave a small gasp and muttered excuses before running to Geralt and throwing himself at him. Jaskier missed the small smile Geralt gave, too busy pressing his face into Geralt’s shoulder. He really had missed his Witcher. (That small smile was not missed by a few astute observers, and something that they immediately went to discuss.)
Stepping back from Geralt, Jaskier’s hand came up to grab at the front of his shirt. Softly, nervously, he started “Geralt, I… I missed you this winter. And I-” He trailed off, hesitant. After a pause, Geralt looked down concerned while Jaskier paid more attention to the way his hand was grasping at his shirt. “I- have have a uh. Gift, for you, so you. You’ll be sure to remember me, and I know that we’re traveling together for the season, but come fall we- you- for when we separate again.”
Finally looking up at Geralt, Jaskier pulled a cord around from around his neck, and under Geralt’s watchful gaze, lifted a pendant from his chest.
“This is for you. I know you already wear your Witcher medallion, and this can go on the same chain, and it might be stupid, honestly, and I can just take it back but-” Jaskier rambled, second guessing his decision and taking the silence from Geralt as a refusal.
He still wasn’t looking up, however, so he missed the flash of panic cross Geralt’s face. He stopped speaking, however, when Geralt’s hands came to his, and gently took the pendant from him.
Jaskier stared as Geralt turned over the pendant, examining it closely. He had a sudden rush of hope, that maybe it would actually be accepted, and that Geralt maybe had the same feelings that Jaskier did, and before his mind could continue, he was interrupted by Geralt. Geralt, who smiled! at him! Smiled! He rarely smiles!
With a gruff “It’s perfect,” Geralt reached back to unclasp his medallion. Rubbing a thumb over the design, Geralt handed it to Jaskier, so that he could string the new pendant on the chain. Jaskier did so, but when he went to hand it back, Geralt just grunted, leaned closer, and moved his hair to one side to give Jaskier a better angle to put it back on. Jaskier could only stare at Geralt, and the soft corners of his lips as they twitched slightly upwards while his fingers fumbled with the clasp. Finally doing it right, Jaskier left his hands behind Geralt’s head, softly stroking his hair as he slowly closed his eyes and leaned in. Before he could second guess himself, Geralt was the one to meet his lips, kissing him softly.
Neither saw the people watching their reunion, they were too engrossed in each other. Jaskier, with one hand in Geralt’s hair and one on his chest, covering the new pendant, and Geralt, both hands on Jaskier’s face, taking the time to finally look after months without. When they finally turned to go to a tavern, their hands were clasped tightly in one another, and neith noticed the keen eye of a boy watching, his eyes focused on the glinting of a new ring engraved with buttercups on Jaskier’s hand; a new ring that happened to match Geralt’s new pendant exactly.
Later, Geralt gave Jaskier his gift, a spectacular new coat, made from wild furs. It was heavy and thick, and something that Jaskier wouldn’t really need at Oxenfurt. It was a promise and a question, an offering to come with Geralt for the winter- to meet his family. Jaskier readily agreed, and promptly put it on despite the fact that it was too warm for such a heavy coat. (Geralt had to confiscate it, later, when Jaskier refused to take it off in the dead of summer and almost suffered heat stroke. Geralt privately resolved to find a different gift for Jaskier he could always have on him.)
Word got around soon that Jaskier and Geralt finally got their shit together. Coin was exchanged and bets were finally resolved. Neither Jaskier nor Geralt were aware of their status, and Jaskier reveled in the love songs that suddenly became popular. Rumors of their coupling eventually died down as new gossip arose. They did, however, cause more tongues to wag after Jaskier got a new gift. A ring, engraved with his beloved’s symbol of the wolf resided on his left hand, matching the buttercups on his right.