Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The day was bright and cheery, birds singing in the garden outside, Roach trotting around her field munching grass, life was good for Geralt now. At least on the surface that is.

Ever since he'd been gifted the estate of Corvo Bianco he'd fallen into this weird state of lethargy. Sure, he'd go kill whatever killer weed sprouted up at nearby wineries in the area and sorted out the occasional rock troll but life was quiet on the ranch, and he was getting stir crazy.

He decided today to ride out with Roach, maybe they could find something interesting to do or (hopefully) a monster to slay. As they rode along the green countryside he sighed thinking about how he ended up here, content but alone.

He'd broken the 'curse' of the djinn holding him and Yenn hostage to one another and realized he hadn't really loved her at all, they parted as friends but it took her awhile to get over it.

Triss, while sweet, had betrayed him, kept him in the dark for too long and he just couldn't entangle himself with her again, so again friends.

Ciri was busy, sure she visited on the off chance she thought about it, but when you could go literally anywhere, even other universes, he didn't blame her for only stopping by every so often.

And Dandelion. Well he's got his own life. He missed the chaos the troubadour brought into his life, missed his goofy too bright smile. But Dandelion, ever the ladies man, had finally settled down. He couldn't ask more from him...

No, he was happy with the way things were, his main companion was Roach and that's how it's always been. He just wished he had someone who could respond when he wanted on the rare occasion to chat.

They crested a hill, overlooking the palace of Toussaint and all its glory. It was really quite a sight, for someone who hadn't seen it a million times, but he could still appreciate the sprawling view of the valley.

The peaceful afternoon was disturbed by a loud whooshing noise behind him and a familiar orange arch appeared. A Portal. He expected a sorceress to come waltzing through, perhaps Yennefer with something she needed help with. Instead through it stumbled a man in a bright blue doublet, looking for all the world terrified and confused.

"Wh-where am I?" He asked aloud, looking about like he'd never seen a blue sky before.

Before Geralt could answer him the portal rippled with another intruder, but this time it was decidedly less human. An alghoul. "Shit, get out of the way!" He roared at the man who turned to him in shock, only just realizing he wasn't alone.

The ghoul screeched and the man suddenly scurried away as fast as he could, going to hide behind Roach as Geralt quickly dismounted, sword already drawn. He slew the beast easily, and the portal closed as he removed his sword, now dripping with black blood. "Damn." He muttered, walking back to Roach to retrieve a rag to wipe the blade. He chuckled as the man was still huddled behind his horse, but his eyes peered over the saddle curiously. "You can come out now, ghouls dead."

The man rounded the horse slowly, a look of confusion on his face as he stared between him and his horse.

"Geralt? Is that you?" He asked, his voice melodic and somehow familiar, but Geralt had never seen him before in his life.

"Do we know…" he started to ask but the more he looked at the other man more things started falling into place. The dark brown hair cropped on top of his head in a fluffy mess rather than long and adorned with a hat, his face only lightly stubbled instead of the moustache and goatee, his clothes while slightly more subdued and a little dirty were still fine silks. The most telling thing though was the bright blue eyes, the skin less crinkled with age than his friend, the only place that Dandelion showed his age. And of course the lute strapped over his back was the very same one Filivandrel gifted Dandelion all those years ago.

"Dandelion? What the fuck…"

"What kind of pompous ass calls himself Dandelion?" The man blurted.

"You. Or at least… wait who are you?" Geralt was just as confused now.

"My name is Julian-"

"Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. More commonly known as Master Dandelion, the famous troubadour and my best friend." He finished knowing the line by heart and the other stood with his mouth hanging open. He took a tentative step forward giving him another once over. "But you don't look like my Dandelion. He's older and more garish."

"That's because I'm not," he found his voice again, now sounding haughty. "I'm Jaskier the bard, thank you very much. And you're a Geralt, but you're not MY Geralt. You're far too talkative and bearded. It's weirding me out."

"Did Ciri send you here?" He asked, that could be the only explanation.

"The girl with snow white hair, a sword and a scar over her cheek? All I know is I was surrounded by ghouls, stumbled on a nest after Geralt and I had…" he cleared his throat at whatever memory he was reliving before continuing.
"Yes, the girl sent me here, but when she threw up that portal I thought she was coming with me, not popping out of existence."

Geralt nodded, he was curious about the hesitancy the other had mentioning his or his counterparts name but that could wait.

"Well, she's smart, she'll know how to find you again. Come on, you look like you might need something for that cut on your head, and maybe a good meal, skinny damn bards." He muttered and Jaskier touched his head lightly with a hiss, realizing himself that he was in fact bleeding.

"Oh, what do you know." He commented lightly and swayed on his feet and Geralt caught him round the waist before he could fall.

"Come on." He said lightly, and helped him onto Roach's back and that same look of shock returned to his face.

"You're letting me ride Roach?" He asked in quiet disbelief and Geralt gave him a funny look.

"Yes, we always shared her on the path… Well me and my Dandelion. Now scootch up." He swung himself in behind him, and Roach stamped her foot at the added weight but rode on without any other complaint.

"Wait… Are we in Toussaint?" Jaskier asks as the ride back through the meadows toward his home and Geralt gives an affirmative hmm against his back. "That sounds more like my…" he trailed off again, joy fading from his expression and it made something in Geralt's heart twist.

They rode to the stable, Geralt dismounted and helped Jaskier down and moved to unsaddle Roach quickly, probably happy her work was done so soon. "Who's estate is this?" Jaskier asked peeking out the stable doors at the grounds and up at the house.

"Mine." He replied easily as he slid the saddle free and carried out over to its hook.

"Yours? You, Geralt of Rivia, have a wine country estate?" Jaskier asked in disbelief and he shrugged.

"Part of the reward for a job I did for the Duchess. Shitload of vampires, saved her sister, you know." He said flippantly and the look of surprise didn't ease from the bard's face. "Come on, or you'll start catching flies with that slack jaw of yours." He teased and turned Roach out to pasture and led the way up the paved path to the house.

"Well that's a story I gotta hear." Jaskier finally said as he fell into step with him after a moment, looking eagerly at him and he chuckled, this was familiar territory.

He brought the bard in and asked Marlene for a bowl of stew as he sat down and tended to his head.

"You have a cook too?" Jaskier asked with wide curious eyes, as the sweet old lady set a bowl of steaming stew before him that smelled heavenly, along with a fresh smelling loaf of bread and soft butter.

"Yep, and a majordomo, a gardener, some field hands and maids. They all worked for the previous owner but stayed on once I was given the estate." He explained easily and Jaskier nodded along interested.

"And, well, I assume this must be like… an alternate reality or something? Because I've pinched myself probably twenty times since we were on that hill and I haven't woken back in my dreary world again." He said and Geralt gave him a pinched look.

"What's so bad in your reality Jaskier?" He asked and the bard stopped eating for a moment to look at him before shaking his head. He watched as the bard pushed the bowl away and set back.

"That was delicious, I must say. Compliments to the chef!" He called and Marlene gave a smile from around the corner at him and he blew her a kiss, a soft girlish giggle floated down the hall to them. "All this strange traveling and ghoul escaping has left me tired out, you wouldn't happen to have a guest room would you?" He asks hopefully and Geralt can tell he wasn't getting any answers from him yet. That's fine, he didn't know when Ciri would return so they had time.

He motions up the short flight of stairs and Jaskier goes with a word of quiet thanks, leaving him to his thoughts.

He sits at the table, staring at the bowl of half finished stew and bread slice the man had only taken a bite out of and ponders. Maybe the bard just wasn't hungry, but he seemed so...skinny. He could definitely stand to have at least finished the meal he claimed was so good, and he knows Marlene's cooking is divine. He scoots the bowl to himself, finishing the rest because even if he didn't want for anything here, old habits die hard and he wasn't about to let it go to waste.

No, it was the question he'd asked, and a pit of worry was working its way into his stomach. What happened that Ciri had felt she needed to intervene so suddenly but then dropped the bard here without an explanation? And where was his counterpart in all this? Everytime the bard mentioned him, the light seemed to die in his eyes and it was heartbreaking to watch.

Had he died in that alghoul attack? Geralt swallowed at the thought of that, dying to a pack of ghouls seemed like a very witcher way to go on the path, but he had a feeling that wasn't it. The bard seemed upset yes, but not like someone had died, more like something.

Maybe they'd had an argument he surmised, maybe about the bard following him on a hunt he shouldn't and got himself in trouble anyway. It was a common theme for Dandelion to do, and he would get angry from time to time, and it would also explain the alghoul.

But something told him that wasn't it either. If this Jaskier was anything like his other self, he'd have found a way to bring him back around, a dumb joke, or a pint of ale at the next tavern usually set them both right after a row. He'd give a sturdy warning that usually went ignored and they carried on like that over and over.

Time passed as he sat there, and he didn't realize how much till he heard soft groans coming from the room above. He vaguely wondered if the bard wasn't… but he *just* got here, he wouldn't.

"Fuck… If you gotta do that keep it down would ya?" He calls exasperated, but after another a moment of silence a louder more distressing sound reaches his ears. "Not that then, ok." He stands from his spot and heads up the stairs loudly, not trying to sneak so he doesn't startle the bard.

On the bed the man is tossing and turning, his brow furrowed, and breaths coming fast. A nightmare, he realizes. "No…Ple-..Ger--alt." He mutters incoherently, and Geralt's heart clenches. He's dreaming about him. No, not about him, the other Geralt, he tells himself. He's only just met this... Jaskier. And the dream, or nightmare must be vivid if he's this worked up in his sleep.

He goes to the bedside, crouches down and places a warm heavy hand on the bard's shoulder. "Jaskier… Jaskier wake up." He rumbles and gives his shoulder a little shake.

"N-no!" He shouts, shooting up in the bed, looking around wildly, before his gaze lands on him. "Oh… it's you… was I-"

"You were having a nightmare. You alright now?" He asks, giving an apologetic look and the bard bends over, placing his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

"I… I don't really know to be honest… I'm sorry if I disturbed you." He apologizes but Geralt's already waving it off.

"You're the one who had the nightmare, you don't need to apologize. I uh…" he starts to get up but a hand whips out and wraps his wrist.

"Please… don't go. I can explain why I…" he trails off, face growing hot. Geralt gives a soft smile and pats the hand gripping him. He makes a gesture with his head and the bard scoots over, making room for him to sit.

"You don't have to explain anything." He says gently and the bard shakes his head.

"No, I think I do." He looks up at Geralt, really connecting with him for the first time since he got here and Geralt feels a flutter of something in his chest at that look. This bard, while similar to Dandelion, is beautiful in a totally different way. The cornflower blue eyes, his soft brown hair sitting in a mess on his head, his slight build. But there was something behind his eyes, something that spoke of years of knowledge as if he was aged well beyond his time. It was intriguing. "I was on my own when I stumbled on a battlefield. The ghouls must not have been there long when I came upon it." He said quietly like he was trying to apologize to him again for something that shouldn't be his fault.

"Why were you alone?" He asks instead of the obvious question. 'Where's Geralt in all this?' But the bard knew what he was hedging at and sighed heavily.

"Geralt and I split up…" he stated simply.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be upset you were in such trouble he couldn't protect you from." He said.

"I doubt it." The bard huffed a laugh that had no humor behind it and Geralt furrowed his brow. "We uh… he doesn't want to see me again. Made it pretty clear actually."

"What?" Geralt spits unable to stop the incredulous tone and Jaskier looks at him, his eyes misty with unshed tears, and Geralt has to rein himself in. Jaskier nods, like he understands and continues.

"We were on a hunt for a dragon, helping this older fellow."

"Borch Three Jackdaws? The Golden dragon?"

"Yea! So you do know what… what happened." He trails off again looking away now like he'd done something wrong.

"Uh, if you mean the dragon was a dick, Yenn and I made up and you got to see her boobs and wouldn't shut up about it for weeks, sure. I mean he was a rare dragon but honestly it wasn't that exciting of a hunt all in all." He explained and Jaskier looked at him like he grew a second head. "What? Is that not what happened with you?" He asked and the bard looked away again, a sad gloom casting over him as he shook his head.

"No… no it's not." He said quietly and Geralt waited patiently. Jaskier sighed again and Geralt was really not liking the look on him, but was attentive as Jaskier recounted the story.

The journey, the fight, even the discussion at the end seemed to be different. Except the destiny line, always destiny remained the same. But this version Yenn stormed off because of the wish, and that Geralt was pissed about Borch's advice. And then… he turned on his only friend left to him?

"He said that to you?" He asked in shock and the bard sniffed, a fat tear rolled down his cheek as he nodded. "What a fucking dick." He growled, wanting to punch his other self in the face. The bard merely just sat there, looking down at his lap. He looked so small and Geralt hated it.
"I'm sorry your Geralt is such an ass, those things were not your fault." He told him but it didn't seem to help.

"Sure they are… I brought him to that banquet where he claimed the law of surprise…"

"HE claimed the law of surprise, you didn't do it for him. We could have asked for anything… but that stupid idea seemed like a joke at time. But Ciri is the best thing to ever happen to me. And, he should be thanking you for it."

"And the djinn… I got cursed and he had to help me…"

"Actually that was a backfire, and he didn't HAVE to do anything, he wanted to because you're his friend."

"His friend?! That's rich…" he said bitterly and Geralt sighed, this was going to be harder than he thought.

"The wish that tied my destiny with Yenn's was also a blessing. She becomes a mother to Ciri." He says quietly with a smile.

"And I assume you all live happily ever after in this quaint countryside villa then? Will Yenn be back at nightfall or something and I'll have to vacate?" He says grudgingly.

"No. Yenn and I aren't together anymore."

"But you said…"

"I said she was like a mother to Ciri, doesn't equate to being like a wife to me. We broke the djinn's curse in Skellige last year with another djinn. After that I realized I didn't actually love her at all, it really was just the wish."

"Oh… wow um… call me shocked." Jaskier said thinking that over.

"And Ciri? Is she…"

"Like I said, she comes and goes as she pleases. Being the lady of time and space. She must have stumbled upon you at the right moment in her travels."

"Boy did she. I thought I was for sure done for...I hope I get to meet her and thank her properly." He mused.

"You will. She's probably tying up some loose ends somewhere, but I doubt she'd just leave you in a strange land for long." He says and a look of panic crosses the bard's face but he shakes his head, the look gone in an instant and back to the melancholy sadness of before.

"Oh, yes. Shouldn't expect to stay here for long!" He laughed hollow sounding. And Geralt felt bad.

"Hey, why don't you play? It always makes Dandelion feel better." He suggested, wanting to change the topic and hopefully the mood and Jaskier looks at him with those same wide eyes of shock.

"You *want* me to play?" He asks, sounding just as shocked.

"Why not? Ah, don't tell me your Geralt is shit on that too?" He groans and Jaskier just looks down. "Melitele's tits, I've never wanted to punch someone more than I've wanted to punch myself right now." He grumbles and a tiny laugh bubbles out of the other man. "Think that'd make it better huh? Go on, please play something for me. I'm curious to know if some of your songs are the same as Dandelion's."

"Well if you insist…" he said quietly and set the lute in his lap, tweaking the strings and tuning it before plucking out a chord he didn't recognize.

A song of love and longing. He recognized instantly the song was about Yenn and himself, but there was a little part, where the bard's voice trembled and Geralt's stomach clenched again, and he was starting to understand why the split the two had was affecting the bard so much. He loves him, he realized, and that idiot didn't know.

The bard’s fingers lingered over the strings, just playing the melody now, his eyes closed and Geralt just watched, because what could he say? The meaning behind the song was clear, but for a man that was completely oblivious it seemed.
Or maybe it was worse… He could see it, nearly plain as day now, and he'd just met Jaskier a few hours ago. Sure, the story and the song helped him along, but if Jaskier's universe was anything like his, Dandelion has always made it clear he loved love, and fell for people easily.

"It's like breathing for me, Geralt. A beautiful maiden, a spritely stablehand, it matters not who they are but what they give and that's love and inspiration. No matter how fleeting... We're all capable of it, and I intend to give as good as I get." He remembered his friend's words and also the kiss they shared after… Heated and full of longing. Because Geralt too, for all his protests to the idea of Witchers having feelings they both knew he did. He just didn't want to put himself out there. He was used to the hate and sneers for a very long time, and it had hardened his heart, up until the time he first met Dandelion and then things changed for the better.

They'd been close, like lovers once, but Geralt knew he couldn't give the other what he needed, so he let him go, and he found it with Priscilla, and Geralt was happy for him, but alone.

This other Geralt seemed to be stuck on repeat with the 'Witcher's don't have feelings. Witchers are solitary and need no one.' Mantra that was ingrained in them in training. "The idiot." He mumbled, and he didn't realize he'd said it out loud till the music stopped playing and Jaskier looked at him with a question in his eyes. "Oh, uh… nothing, sorry." He said and leaned back and Jaskier looked back then at his lute, starting a more upbeat song.

The bard played for a long while, and Geralt happily listened as the other became more alive and vibrant. He did eventually slow again though but didn't lose the happy little smile on his lips now as just his fingers played lightly on the strings.

"So tell me more about you, things are obviously different here." Jaskier asked.

"Honestly I think my timeline is also quite a ways more advanced. If you haven't even met Ciri yet, I'd say things are… 15 maybe even 20 years behind for you." He mused and Jaskier looked awed but continued playing as he talked.

He figured it wouldn't do much harm to tell him about simpler things, like his life in Corvo Bianco, the events that led up to it, and other more recent events. He feared if he told him about more pertinent events he could screw things up for Jaskier even more. He didn't like time and space magic and didn't want to be responsible for whatever trouble it might cause. And Jaskier seemed content, though by the sad tilt to his lips when he began talking about renovations and gardening he could tell it wasn't what he was wanting to hear when he asked the question.

He offered for a bath to be drawn up for him, thinking he might have some salts and fragrances left from Dandelion's last visit, and Jaskier gratefully accepted and went out to the bathhouse, leaving him to see about dinner.

He went to the cellar trying to pick a wine, usually Dandelion liked anything he picked but this man wasn't the troubadour he knew. "Maybe he'd like an est est…" he pondered and his ears perked as light footsteps sounded on the stairs.

"There you are, God I haven't had a bath like that in forever it feels. Damn mountain trekking and sleeping on the ground has really put a crick in my spine and holy melitele! How is there that much wine?!" He exclaimed looking around the cellar, damp hair falling into his eyes adorably that Geralt had to swallow.

"It's a winery. I make wine." He said, back turned and Jaskier gave an eye roll at his obvious statement.

"I just didn't expect you to actually be… this is just so damn weird! Whatever happened to 'Witcher's only retire when they slow and get killed.'?" He said in a lower mocking tone of what Geralt guessed was his own voice.

He barked a laugh, holding a bottle out to the bard as he searched for another. "I or should I say we, did say that once, yea, a long time ago. After a decade or so that tune'll change."

"Oh?" Jaskier prompted hopefully and Geralt gave a rye smile as he stood taller, having retrieved a vintage he had been gifted from a job.

"Can't do that bard, don't know what telling you about the future could do to your world. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But trust me when I say it's probably for the best." He said and brushed their shoulders together in a warm gesture as he passed and Jaskier sighed but followed after him.

They had a nice meal of Venison and root vegetables from the garden, and Geralt was surprised by how much the bard could put away at first but remembered that when Dandelion would travel with him he’d always gorge himself in town when he thought no one was looking. He was happy to see him eating like that, meant the bard trusted him, at least this much.

After the table was cleared and Jaskier was sipping his third glass of Est Est Geralt motioned for him to get up. “Where are we going?” Jaskier asked and Geralt just gave a small turn up to his lips and a raised brow.

“If you come along, you’ll find out.” He answered and led the way back outside. They didn’t go terribly far, just over the stream toward the back of the house where a lounge chase sat on a hill and Jaskier thought it strange as Geralt motioned to it. “Have a seat.” Geralt prompted and Jaskier did with some reluctance. He sat back into the corner, stretching his long legs out and looked like he felt awkward. “Relax, Jaskier. I just figured you’d appreciate the sunset. It’s beautiful over the vineyard.” He assured and the bard visibly lost some of the tension in his shoulders as he sank into the cushioned back of the chase.

Geralt sat on the other end, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees, the sun casting bright oranges and pinks over the land.

“Wow.” the bard whispered as the sun did make a spectacular show, reds and pinks dusted the sky, as wispy purple clouds streaked by as though by a painter’s hand. “You’re right, it is beautiful.” He commented as the sun set the hillside ablaze. “Like, this is ballad-worthy Geralt.” he said and Geralt nodded.

“I like this probably best of all about this place. But, it’s better when there’s someone to share it with.” He stated simply, not missing the blush that bloomed under the open doublet and loosely laced chemise. He had to keep his eyes diverted, otherwise the bard showing his undergarments so blatantly might make him do something he’ll regret.

They stayed out till the first stars began to appear overhead, the bard now leaned back far more relaxed than earlier, the empty wine goblet hanging carelessly from his fingers. Geralt didn't hold back the amused smile this brought and Jaskier waved his hand drunkenly at him.

"Time for bed lush." Geralt said as he stood and the bard's face went through at least four different expressions before settling on indignation.

"Who are you my mother? I'll have you know, I can handle my wine fantastically." Jaskier said while bumbling to his feet quickly, standing on the chase, and raised one of his legs to strike a dramatic pose on the backrest of the chase.

"Very impressive." Geralt said, feigning said impression to which Jaskier rolled his eyes and began to wobble perilously and Geralt was there to catch him when he inevitably fell backward.

Geralt blinks, wondering why this feels familiar, when Jaskier looks at him with a look of surprise then he dips his head a little more towards him, his eyes hooded and shining with wine. 'Oh that's right, just like that time with Triss at the masquerade party. Oh…'

"Wow Geralt, still working out during retirement huh?" Jaskier compliments with a wiggle of his eyebrows and Geralt just rolled his eyes and carried him back across the bridge to the house. "I *can* walk you know." The bard squirms in his arms and he loosens his arms the tiniest bit, letting him slip and he scrambles to hold on, putting his arms around Geralt's neck, and he could hear the bard's heart race with alarm. "Not funny."

"I thought it was hilarious." Geralt smirks, receiving a smack to the shoulder, jostling them again, but he doesn't stumble. "Just chill out, I don't want to have to fish you out of the stream because you're too wine drunk to walk back." He says but there's no heat behind it, and Jaskier sighs and lets it happen.

The walk back isn't long but the bard's heavy eyes close as he leans into Geralt's chest and as he steps through over the threshold with a little finagling for the handle, the bard is letting out warm puffs of air against his neck, sending goosebumps down his back as he curses his hyper-sensitivity. He brings the bard upstairs, laying him down lightly and removes his doublet and boots with a tender hand, setting them aside. By the time he turns back the bard is already facing the wall, his legs tucked up, and a bit of drool dripping from his mouth.

Geralt sighs as yet again his heart squeezes in his chest at the sight, and just what the hell was going on with him lately? He shakes his head, ignoring that voice and brings a sheet to cover the bard with up over his body.

He makes his way down to his own room slowly, rubbing his face. As he lays down to sleep he can't get thoughts of the bard that's lying upstairs out of his mind.

'This isn't like you.' He berates silently. 'You get one guest and suddenly you're smitten? You barely know the man, and he's still apprehensive around you because of that…'

"Fuck if I ever meet him I'll punch his teeth down his throat." He growls, hand clenched in a fist before realizing that too is the actions of a man too far gone over the feelings of a pretty stranger he just met earlier today. "Shit…" he grumbles to himself and throws his arm over his face. "You've gone soft witcher." He says quietly to no one and drifts to sleep.

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