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.

***

Chapter Text

Much like the day before, he wakes to a quiet home, and if it weren't for the empty bottles of wine still on the table from the night before he could have been fooled into believing it was a dream.

A slow sort of panic started to overcome him, when he peeked upstairs and the bard wasn't in his bed where he left him.

Ciri didn't return him back in the middle of the night without saying something did she? He prayed not.

Marlene came out of the kitchens as he passed the hall, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands that she handed to him with a warm smile.

"Try outside on the porch, dear. Your friend has a lovely voice." She said and turned back through the doorway.

He nodded and went to go look where she suggested. Sure enough the bard was perched on the wood railing, his back to the door as he strummed a tune on his lute and Geralt's heart did a weird thing in his chest at the sight, realizing it was a relief that the man was still here.

He leaned back against the door frame, crossing his arms loosely over his chest and listened as the bard began to sing softly.

He sang a song of an old familiar story, one of elves and the edge of the world. Geralt's brow furrowed though as he mentioned Tork the Silvan. "That's not how it happened," he called.

"That's what the other you said too." Jaskier replied not missing a beat, and turned his head to give a grin as his fingers flew over the strings, and his voice grew in richness as he sang the chorus.

Geralt moved away from the door with a chuckle and drew closer. He must be getting old if a bard could hear him coming. He leaned over the railing next to the bard's folded leg, and listened without further interruption til the end of the song.

"Three words or less." Jaskier said as his eyes met his and Geralt paused to think.

"Exaggerated but flattering." He replied and the resulting smile on the bard's face could have outshined the sun. "Dandelion wrote a ballad about our first 'grand adventure' too. Yours is admittedly a lot catchier." He commented.

Fuck he had it bad… He turned his attention out to the yard as Jaskier started cheerfully going on about how it was his most famous piece and Geralt let the words wash over him in a haze. He didn't trust himself to continue basking in the sunshine of the man. It would hurt all the more when he left… he thought bitterly.

"Geralt, you ok?" Jaskier asked, suddenly it felt, but it had probably been only a few minutes now. A light hand rested on his shoulder, bringing him out of his own head.

"Hmm, yea. Just thinking." He replied and the bard nodded, letting his hand linger for a moment longer, his touch burning, but that's what happens when you fly too close to the sun, and Geralt decided he didn't mind it, just this once.

"You know, it's been a while since I've seen Beauclair, care to show me around?" The bard asked and Geralt shrugged.

"Sure, I'm pretty sure the city proper has patched up most of their businesses by now." He said off-handedly and Jaskier looked at him with curiosity before he seemed to remember what Geralt had said.

"Oh! The vampire...thing? You *have* to tell me about that on the way." He said, while hopping down from the rail and slinging his lute over his back.

Geralt rolled his eyes at the bard's eagerness, but wasn't that surprised, Dandelion would have had them go yesterday. He stood with an exaggerated huff and shooed the bard inside to get dressed properly for a ride into town.

They arrived in the city without much fanfare, and by much the Witcher *only* received gratuitous amounts of thanks from five different people as they rode into the main square.

After the fourth Jaskier gave him a look over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips. "You're pretty popular around town."

"Eh, Shut it." He said half-heartedly.

"I'm just saying, I see the appeal. Masses of adoring and grateful people wherever you go. A lovely vineyard and a place to rest at the end of everyday. Sounds like a dream come true." Jaskier went on as they came to a stop, and Geralt swung down without a word, lost in his own thoughts again. "You're doing that thing again." Jaskier said as his feet landed on the ground, hands on his hips.

"What thing?"

"Brooding. I'm well accustomed to the look." He said gesturing at him as if it were obvious.

"Well, you live as long as I do, you find you have a lot of time to sit and 'brood'. Come on, there's a market today." He said changing the subject and Jaskier seemed to forget as he followed him through the busy streets.

They perused the stalls, and Jaskier seemed to start a conversation with every person he saw. 'He certainly didn't lack anything in charm.' Geralt thought as he preferred to stand back and watch the bard have a good time, after all he seemed to need it.

Jaskier had pointed out plenty of items and frippery that were 'simply stunning' or 'this would look great in your home, Geralt' to which he just nodded, Meliteli knew how he didn't need anymore junk.

An hour or so passed like that, when they came across a fountain in the middle of the square, two men were playing instruments there, one with a flute another with a tambourine and Jaskier looked back at him with the most pleading eyes he'd ever seen, he even put Dandelion to shame.

"Go, I'm not stopping you." He said with a laugh and Jaskier gave another one of his blinding smiles and strode over to the men. After a quick conversation, he joined their playing, and Geralt took a seat at a nearby table, set out for the market patrons to eat at.

A few people gathered, now that the musicians had a lutist they were gaining more attention, but Jaskier didn't hog the limelight from them, sitting on the fountains ledge, his feet dangling carelessly as he played.

"Sing us a song bard!" One of them shouted and a murmur of agreement went through the crowd. The other musicians looked at Jaskier who seemed to sigh and gave a nod. He whispered something to them which they both nodded vigorously and the flutist trilled a little melody as Jaskier stood on the fountain's ledge.

"Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger, come quell your daughter's hunger…" Jaskier sang with a mischievous smile and the crowd whooped and cheered and Geralt couldn't contain the groan at recognizing the bawdy tune.

The crowd grew much larger as Jaskier finished the song to much applause. He bowed graciously and motioned for his new friends to bow as well. They did so awkwardly, and coins rained down.
After that he was roped into three more songs, all upbeat and Geralt tapped his foot as he listened.

"If you lovely people would permit, I've a new song I've only just begun to form. But your fair city and its hero deserve to be sung about." Jaskier announced drawing a confused look from Geralt, who he just gave a wink, and began a different melody and the crowd hushed.

Amidst her pretty streets
And her gilded fair.
Creatures creep,
So it's wise to beware.

A bite in the night,
That lurked 'round the corner.
That pretty barmaid,
Might have filled you with horror.

A terrible fate,
I could paint you a picture.
But the smart Duchess,
Did summon a Witcher.

Jaskier went on inventing verse after verse and Geralt had nearly forgotten what it felt like sitting in the back of a crowded tavern as Dandelion sang of his exploits. Of course, Dandelion was always so serious about his ballads, agonizing for weeks over a single stanza before he'd ever present it to 'his public' and here was his doppler, making it all up on the fly.
Geralt could feel the heat of a blush building on the back of his neck as Jaskier finished to more applause and tossed coins.

"Thank you dear market patrons. But this impromptu performance has left me famished." He announced and took a bow.

The other musicians insisted on pushing coin into his hand, even though he tried to politely refuse, "It was my pleasure to join you gentlemen."

"If not for you Master Bard we wouldn't have even made a fourth of this." The flutist said as the other nodded his agreement.

"Please just Jaskier, and thank you. I'll treat my long, suffering witcher to some lunch." He smiled and pocketed the coin and sauntered over to Geralt. "So?"

"You literally made that up on the spot didn't you?"

"Yea, I know it needs some work, couldn't think of a thing that rhymed with katakan off the top of my head…" he mused thinking again on the matter.

"I just told you the story an hour ago. The abridged version in fact." Geralt said and Jaskier looked at him with a slightly worried look.

"Did you not like it? Not enough detail? I'm sorry, I should have asked before…"

"Jaskier." He interrupted his tirade of beratement on himself. "It's fine. I was just surprised is all. Your song was good. It'll give Dandelion a run for his money." He laughed at the thought and Jaskier's shoulders dropped with his ease.

"Thank the gods, I thought I was going to have to run from another witcher again…" he said without thinking but looked apologetic as Geralt's smile faltered, his fist clenching involuntarily for a second before relaxing again. " I uh...made some coin. Wouldn't be interested in some lunch, my treat?" He said quickly, trying to cover up his mistake and lighten the mood and Geralt sighed heavily and allowed it.

"Sure." He said, standing from his spot and followed Jaskier back into the crowd. They found a cart selling meat skewers, and walked around some more eating them. Geralt decided to peruse the notice board in the square. A yellow flyer about a Gwent tournament, an aged parchment about a missing dog, nothing of note or he hadn't already seen. The dog was found by him a month ago so he took down the paper, and he'd been planning to attend the tournament for more than a week when it was first announced at The Cockatrice Inn.

Jaskier, after one more perusal and making a purchase of an ornately embroidered maroon colored doublet decided he'd had enough and said it'd be okay if they left. They headed back to where they'd hitched Roach and were mounting up when a man came running toward them with a wild look.

A merchant, with his hat all askew and clothes dirtied. "Witcher! Please!" He cried and Geralt cringed internally. The man stopped before them, breathing heavily and Geralt crossed his arms over his chest as he waited. " Thank the gods you're here! I was headed into town this morning on the southern road with my stock, when a thing attacked me!"

"A thing? You gotta be more specific than that." Geralt rumbled and Jaskier nodded his agreement.

"I don't know Sir Witcher! I didn't get a good look at the thing!"

"See there's that word again." Jaskier tsked and Geralt gave him the side eye.

"Aauh! It was… tall, and came out of the woods. I had just stopped to pick some specimens for market, an apothecary as I am. The roads are lush this time of year, so I stopped, and… my cart, my whole livelihood is with it, and it's entangled in these thick branches and…" The man rambled and Geralt sighed.

"I'll look into it." He groaned, and the man looked up with a grateful expression.

"Oh thank you Sir Witcher, thank you. I'll gladly pay you whatever you ask, and any herbs or medicinals you need!" He said and Geralt nodded with a huff, turning back to mount the horse Jaskier was already astride.

"So, off to a hunt then?" Jaskier asked, not bothering to hide his excitement.

" *I'm* off to a hunt, after I take you back home." He said and only tensed after he realized what he'd said. Home. Like the bard belonged there. With him. He was shaken from his panic as Jaskier started up.

"Oh no no no, you are NOT leaving me back at the ranch while you go slay an epic beast! I must come! Think of the ballads!"

"You're insufferable." He grumbled and Jaskier laughed.

"You love it."

And somehow Geralt really did.

After a losing battle of words, Geralt gave in like he knew he would, and after a fast grab for his armor they rode along the southern road into the deeper forest to find the merchant's cart.

"So what do you think attacked the man?"

"Dunno, could be a Leshen or a Spriggan. They're similar and both protect the forest. Sounds like when he stopped he trespassed on its territory." He explained as they came across a mangled cart twisted in deadened tree roots.

"Well that was easy." Jaskier said but Geralt just shook his head sharply, his eyes scanning around the trees as he dismounted.

"Stay with Roach." He commanded and went to inspect the cart. A Spriggan then, Leshen's didn't summon roots like this. Great, they were tricky. "Jaskier, take Roach and go back up the road."

"What? Why?! It's just some old tree branches." He complained but before Geralt could explain a loud creaking came from close by, the ground beginning to rumble. "Uh…Geralt?" The bard's tone now worried.

"Go!" He shouted, drawing his sword. "Come out you moldy log!" He shouted and the ground beneath his feet began to split and he did a tuck roll out of the way just as roots shot from the earth where he had stood.

"Oh shit, not good." He could hear Jaskier as he urged Roach to escape but the ground continued to shake and branches began to surround the horse and her rider. She winnied, rearing up and Geralt would have held on with ease but Jaskier, who hardly rides was left floundering, and got knocked off as she clambered out to safety. Geralt watched in what felt like slow motion as the bard landed in a heap on the ground, he didn't move for a long moment in which Geralt stood in horror at the sight. Jaskier did eventually stir, the time ticking away like a bomb in Geralt's gut though it was only mere seconds later. He sat up with a groan, rubbing his arm, and Geralt breathed again.

The ground shook again, and he gritted his teeth in anger, this thing was going up in flames! He thought, fingers already forming the sign for igni. He dodged the coming brambles and the Spriggan finally materialized, receiving a scorching spray of fire to its face. The creature shrieked and swiped at him with a claw which he parried with his sword. The fight barely lasted 3 minutes, the Spriggan was old, and the fire damage had done it's work. He cut the thing done and it disintegrated in a pile of ash.

When he turned back Jaskier was stumbling to his feet, a look of awe on his face. "That was brilliant! The fire, the fighting, the-" Jaskier went on and on but stopped abruptly at the look Geralt gave him. "Geralt?" He said wearily.

Geralt marched over to him, anger simmering below the surface. How could he have let the bard come along?! Get that close too… His mind was screaming but as he came right up to the man, whose eyes were giving him a pleading look and as the bard opens his mouth again to inevitably apologize he's unable to stop himself as he grabs the front of the bards chemise roughly and presses their lips together, hard.

It takes a moment, and Geralt starts to pull away, immediate regret beginning to take hold when arms encircle his neck, and Jaskier kisses him back.

The bard's tongue dances at his closed lips begging for entry and Geralt grants it, the other moans softly into his mouth as their tongues meet and entangle. Geralt's harsh grip relaxes, his hands moving over Jaskier's chest to his arms, slowly caressing, till they rest on his hips.

They kiss until Jaskier pulls away with a gasp for air, and his face is flushed a pretty pink, his lips kiss swollen and red and Geralt nearly groans at the sight.

"Are you alright?" Geralt finally asks, and Jaskier gives a raised brow of surprise at the question.

"Seeing as that was the best kiss of my entire life, I'd say I'm doing better than alright." He replies and something dangerous flutters in Geralt's stomach at the words. "But Geralt, what was that?" He asks and the feeling quickly becomes like a stone.

"I was… worried about you." he explains weakly. Nothing will explain that.

"And you kiss everyone you're worried about like that?" Jaskier jokes and Geralt huffs angrily and stalks off to find Roach. "Hey! Geralt wait!" The bard yells at his back but he's already over the branches and whistling for his mare.

Jaskier clambers his way through the mess himself, puffing for air from the exertion. And Geralt takes a large breath and let's it out through his nose in a controlled stream of air, a calming moment is all he needs.

"Geralt what the hell…"

"Jaskier, just forget it. Please. It...it didn't mean anything." He forced himself to say and Jaskier stopped short.

"Oh. We-well… of course. Of course not. We've only just… met. It must have been a… a heat of the moment thing… right?"

Geralt listened to the way the bard's face wavered, how he cleared his voice to try to sound normal, and fuck if that didn't make this hurt worse, but he couldn't do this. Not to himself and especially not to Jaskier. It wouldn't be right to use the bard's emotions for another, to give himself what he yearned for.

"Yea. Heat of the moment. Come on." Geralt said emotionless and hated himself for how good at it he still was and swung into the saddle. He offered a hand to the bard, who took it, although with a little reluctance, their eyes no longer meeting, and that was fine. If Geralt was going to get them both through this little adventure then this is the way it would have to be.

They rode back to Corvo Bianco, Geralt not caring about the job anymore and sent a field hand to bring the message the merchant could retrieve his wagon without worry now.

"I'm uhh… go have a lay down. That fall left me a little more dizzy than I realized…" Jaskier said to his back as he unsaddled the horse and he simply nodded and listened as his footsteps faded away.

"Fuck, you're an idiot." He growled to himself, and Roach bumped her head into his chest seeming to agree. "Yea, well… what do you know, you're a horse." He grumbled and turned her out to pasture.

He spent the rest of the day alone and made every excuse not to go inside. He went out to the fields, alone. He fixed the tile along the wall he'd been meaning too because no one one else could get to it, alone. He bathed alone, and brushed Roach's coat, alone. And when it was finally dinner time he took his meal out quietly and ate on the hill, alone. It was what he deserved, he told himself. This is why he was here, with no one. So he could hurt no one.

He lounged on the chase after, watching the sky above turn from blue to pink, to purple, to dark navy. He was so lost in his own head, thoughts of how he was meant for this life of loneliness, that's what Witchers are built for. How he should stop playing house and make believe and get back on the Path, when soft footsteps sounded on the bridge. He didn't move, he knew who it was without ever having to look.

The scent of a warm summer day, wildflowers, and resin wafted to him on the breeze. As he drew closer, the scent became more acute. And he caught the bitter scent of salt, and he knew instantly the bard had been crying but had tried to wash it away. And fuck he hated himself all the more for it.

"I could hear your stormy attitude from inside." He said by way of greeting and Geralt just grunted. He didn't trust himself to speak as the bard sighed and came around to face him. He stood, his hands placed on his trim waist, doublet gone and chemise loosely tucked into his trousers. "You're not going to make this easy are you?" He huffed a laugh and Geralt just squinted in question at him. He sighed, shaking his head. "Then I suppose I'll just have to show you." He said and without further preamble he leaned into Geralt's space and kissed him.

Geralt's eyes widened, his hands instantly reaching up to push the other away but the bard wasn't having it. He grabbed his hands, and with surprising strength forced them above his head. He climbed on top of him, forcing his way into his lap, never breaking the kiss that was now becoming more than just a press of lips. He should have been able to resist, because fuck he had resolve, he was a witcher after fucking all, and no bard could ever hope to match him in strength, but he was also a man. A man that needed. No. Craved affection just like any other, he'd just been good at denying himself for so long. Believing the lie, he realized, the same one he wanted to beat his counterpart for and he was doing the same thing. Guess they weren't that different after all.

"Jaskier…" he husked against his lips and Jaskier bit his lip in response.

"Stop thinking and kiss me witcher." Jaskier practically growled, sending a shiver down his spine, and so he did. He kissed the bard with everything he was worth. He kissed him till they were both panting for air, dizzy with it even, but still Jaskier was unrelenting. The bard kissed with abandon, like if he stopped or their lips parted for more than a few seconds he might die. Geralt had never been kissed like that, not even with Yenn back when they were a thing, or even with Dandelion. This was desperate, achingly so, and how he wanted to give him everything, but he feared it still wouldn't be enough.

"Jaskier wait..." He tried again and the bard's fingers tightened against his, his mouth moved to trail kisses over his jaw and down his neck, his teeth nipping at skin as he went. "Jaskier."

"Shut up Geralt and just… just fucking enjoy it." He said, his voice muffled and Geralt knew something was wrong, because his voice hitched on his name, and the wetness from the kisses couldn't hide the wetness from the tears he realized the bard wasn't able to hold back.

He shifted and Jaskier tried again to keep him in place, but Geralt was actually trying now so he didn't stand a chance at stopping him. The man withdrew all at once, scrambling to stand but Geralt caught his wrist as he got to his feet, his back to him. All Geralt could see were the shaky breathes the bard was taking, the smell of salt now heavy in the air. "Jaskier."

"Why? Why can't you just let us have this?" He said, and Geralt felt like a bucket of ice water had been splashed over him as the bard turned to look at him, tears tracked down his face. "Why can't you love me like I…" the words hung heavily between them. Geralt sits up slowly, and gently tugs the bard to him again and Jaskier goes. He falls limply into his arms, burying his face into the crook of his neck and just lets go.

"Hey, it's ok. I've got you." Geralt soothes and strokes his back with a warm palm.

"I'm sorry... I… just wanted…"

"No. No, you have nothing to be sorry for, little lark. Shh…" he says rocking him. It's awkward, as they're nearly the same height and Jaskier is surprisingly built under the billowy clothes, but he makes it work. Whatever he needs Geralt's swears to give it to him, because fuck if this isn't tearing him apart to see the bard cry.

They stayed like that for a long while, long after Jaskier's breathing was back to normal, and his sniffling had ceased. Geralt shifted him just a little in his lap so he could look at him, no less contact than before though. Jaskier peered up at him, his face flushed, blue eyes bright and red rimmed.

"I'm sorry i-" he started and Geralt just gave him a look that had him coming up short.

"It's ok Jaskier. I understand." He told him, truly getting why he kept trying to apologize but the bard shook his head and Geralt sighed, leaning back so he had more space to breathe if he needed it but it didn't seem he did as Jaskier just followed the movement, not willing to give up any space between them.

"You don't. I projected my… my feelings onto you. You're not him… and I… fuck this is hard." Jaskier said and Geralt gave a short choked little chuckle. Jaskier turned his gaze up to him again, the tiniest sad smile turning one corner on his mouth upward. "You must think I'm an idiot."

"No. No I'm the fool that fell for you too fast." Geralt admitted and Jaskier's eyes widened in shock.

" You what?" He whispered and Geralt nodded, looking up at the sky, laying back into the chase again, just to avoid having to see the look of disappointment and anger the bard would have when he continued.

"I don't know what it was, you reminding me of Dandelion, or what. But it was mostly… well everything about you is so familiar and different, it was like having my friend back. We uh… shared some times together on the path, me and Dandelion. But then you're not him at all. And you needed me and I haven't felt that in a long time. When I kissed you I didn't want to stop but I knew you had been hurt by "the other me" and I didn't want to use your feelings for my gain." He explained, and shocked himself at the same time. He hadn't said that much at once in a while.

The silence stretched for a long moment and he cocked his head to see a fresh tear falling from the bard's eye. "Shit, I didn't mean too…" he says in a rush as he sits up but Jaskier shakes his head, wiping the tear away with the back of his hand.

"You care for me that much?" Jaskier asked quietly, and Geralt looked down and nodded, his hands folded in his lap.

A second pair of hands enclosed his, lute calloused fingers gently caressing over the back of his hands and he looked up at the bard's shining face.

"You're right. You are a fool Geralt of Rivia." He said and moved closer and pressed their lips together softly, and this time Geralt didn't resist him.

He brought the bard to lay on top of him, his hands stroking his sides and arms and Jaskier practically melted into him. They didn't kiss for very long this time, Jaskier pulled away with a shy smile and just rested his head on Geralt's chest, and they stayed like that. Listening to the crickets chirp and the water of the stream rush. Watching as the stars came out, and the moon rose. It was companionable and comforting. It was what they both needed.

Jaskier stifled his third yawn when Geralt suggested they head in. They walked back silently, hands joined as they went. They reached the door and stepped inside, but at the sight of the stairs leading up and away from him Geralt's hold on his hand tightened.

"Stay with me." He asked and Jaskier nodded.

"I really had hoped you'd say that… I don't want to be alone again." He whispered and Geralt made a promise to never let that happen again.

He led the bard into his room, and with a bit of encouragement from the man helped him undress. He kissed each new bit of skin that was exposed to him, the dip in his collarbone, the swell of his chest enjoying the surprisingly thick hair there, Jaskier's heart beating a loud staccato in his ear as he rested his head over it for a moment and the bard sighed at the tender affection he was shown. He went slower still as he unlaced his trousers, the silk falling in a pool on the floor, his hands worshipping his calves, his thighs, till they reached the soft but firm globes of his bottom and squeezed, drawing a gasp from him.

"Geralt." His name was breathed into the room like a prayer. He bent a little, scooping the now nearly naked bard into his arms, his large hands resting in the natural groove where his thigh met ass and Jaskier instinctively wrapped his long legs around Geralt's body. Geralt leaned in and kissed him slowly as he lowered him onto his bed.

Searching hands helped divest him of his own cotton shirt, and we're quickly working to remove his pants as well. Long fingers cupped him through the fabric of his small clothes and he groaned.

"Thought you were tired." He smiled.

"I think I can manage to keep my eyes open for this." Jaskier replied with another squeeze making him grind into his hand.

"Jaskier… we don't have too if you don't…" he didn't know how to finish the sentence, it was clear he wanted this, but… "I know I'm not…" he tried to make the words come out and failed with a growl.

Jaskier moved his hands away and cupped either side of Geralt's face instead, forcing their eyes to meet. "The only person I want is you." He said, his voice unwavering, and he brought their lips together in a searing kiss. "Loving you is easy Geralt." He said, breathing the words into his skin and Geralt groaned again.

The words did something to him. The bard wanted 'him' and maybe it was because of his counterpart, and maybe there was some bleeding over from the other him, but he didn't care. He didn't care because he wanted so badly for this to be real. He hardly knew the bard for a day and already he was so far gone on him it was… unexplainable.

He wanted to give this man everything, and he was going to start with what he could do now. He kissed him slowly, their tongues mingling for a long moment before he moved on, his lips trailing further and further down his lithe body, Jaskier's breath hitching as he kissed across his stomach, mouthing at his protruding hip bone as he hooked his fingers into the small clothes sitting low on his hips, tugging them off.

"Melitele's tits Geralt…" Jaskier moans and Geralt looks up at him as his hand engulfs his flushed cock, his grip firm. The bard groans again as he slowly pumps his fist over him, their eyes meeting for but a moment before Jaskier closes his eyes, lost to the feeling.

Geralt's strokes increase in speed, all the while the bard below him moans quietly and he thinks he could stand be louder than that, and bends further to take him into his mouth.

"Fuck!" He hisses and Geralt grins around him, pleased with his reaction. A hand finds his hair, entangled in the silken strands as his head bobs on his length. "Oh, gods how are you so good at that?" He groans again and Geralt swirls his tongue around the head in a complicated way and Jaskier arches beautifully, lips forming praises and moans of ecstasy all the while.

He goes until the muscles in Jaskier's legs are quivering, his balls tightening upward as he fondled and rolled them in his hand and his grip tightens in his hair. "Geralt I'm going too…"

"Hmm…" he intones and Jaskier's head falls back against the pillows with a groan at the vibrations that give him and with a jerk of his hips he comes down Geralt's throat with a cry.

Geralt takes his time, licking away all traces of cum, feeling Jaskier shiver beneath him, over sensitized after his orgasm.

"Fuck... come here." Jaskier whispers hoarsely and he does as the fingers still loosely tangled in his hair give a slight pull.

They kiss and Jaskier doesn't complain about the bitter taste on his tongue, but he can barely catch his breath and Geralt pulls away to kiss his forehead tenderly. "Rest." He says and gets up to retrieve a cloth and wet it in the wash basin and brings it over to gently clean Jaskier with.

"What about-" Jaskier tries to sit up but Geralt pushes him back down gently.

"I'm fine. Sleep." He says and Jaskier wants to protest.

"I've never left a partner unsatisfied in my life Geralt, I'm hardly going to start now."

Geralt chuckles and just slings a heavy arm over Jaskier's chest, ending the argument. "You haven't, but you need rest." He says tugging him in more so their chests are flush together.

"Don't think I won't return the favor come morning." Jaskier said through a yawn and Geralt just huffed, burying his nose in the soft strands of Jaskier's head.

"I don't doubt it. Now, sleep little lark." His voice a low rumble and Jaskier settled in, his palm resting against Geralt's broad chest and closed his eyes.

"I love you Geralt." He said the words like a quiet prayer and Geralt's heart felt full as they drifted to sleep in each other's arms.

Chapter Text

The witcher hadn't slept this soundly in what felt like ages. The previous effort it usually took to drift to sleep was like a faded memory as he listened to the soft breaths the bard was taking, warm puffs of air on his skin were like a soothing balm that put him to sleep.

He woke hours later to light caresses, soft but sure fingers tracing the map of scars on his body, lips trailing in their wake, worshipping in their reverence and attention he paid to each one.

"This takes hero worship to a new level…" he drawled lazily and Jaskier smirked against his hip, glancing at him with a side eye look.

"Just seeing how long you'd sleep through it." He says with a mischievous glint in his eye before continuing where he left off.

His lips left a heated trail of wet kisses over his stomach and hips, leaving not a single nick nor puckered line to be forgotten under his careful scrutiny.

Sure fingers dug into the meat of his thighs, massaging as they went, pulling and bunching the loose fabric of his braese till they were so low on his hips there was no question of his intentions.

"Jaskier…" he sighed and the man dipped further to nip at the inside of his left thigh, drawing a groan out of him. He kissed the mark in apology and slowly followed his leg up with more open mouthed kisses, licking and breathing steamed breathes that made the witcher practically squirm with want. Just as Geralt thought he might show mercy though he ducked to give the right the same treatment and he threw his head back into the pillow with another groan of "Fuck Jask… you're killing me."

"I hardly believe that, a little foreplay never harmed anyone, but I suppose you've been very good…" the words linger for a moment so long that Geralt looks up and the moment their eyes meet Jaskier licks a long stripe up his firm cock. The bard had the most shit eating grin on his face as he does it and Geralt groans so loud he worries for a moment that a maid might hear and come check, but the thought is immediately gone as Jaskier slowly takes him into his mouth.

The bard takes his time, lathing him with his tongue his fist wrapped firmly around the base where he can't quite fit all of him in his mouth, which is fucking fine, because his wrist twists on every upward stroke as his tongue swirls around the head and Geralt is seeing stars with each time.

Just as Geralt feels like he might come at any moment, the bard releases him with an obscenely wet pop of his lips and looks up at him with the same lustful look as earlier. "As much as I'd like to swallow your cum I really want to ride your cock as the sun rises." He says, his lips grazing the crown of his cock as he spoke and Geralt had to fight to not come just at those words alone.

Jaskier smirked at his pinched face of concentration and with a last swipe of his tongue pulled away, moving up his body and crawling into his lap. He grinds against him and rises to his knees as he reaches being to grasp his cock and guide it into him but Geralt finally comes back to himself and grips his waist, holding him still.

"You can't do that… not unprepared…" he says and the smirk on Jaskier's face softens as he gestures at the bedside table, an empty bottle of oil laying on its side. "Oh…"

"Like I said, I was wondering how much you might sleep through…" the smirk returns and he lowers himself with one fluid motion, Geralt helping him as they both moan. "Ah fuck Geralt, you're so… umph" he closes his eyes, moving slow as a glacier and Geralt tastes blood as he bites his lip watching the bard sink slowly down on him.

"I got you…" he whispered, supporting most of his weight with his hands at his waist, fingers gripping so tight he worried he might leave him bruised but Jaskier just kept going without complaint till he was fully seated. Geralt watched as the bard took labored breaths as he adjusted to his girth, and slowly opened his eyes to look at him. "Fuck…" his vocabulary down to single curse words at the sight, a smirk formed on the others lips.

"That's the idea…" The bard intoned, his voice suddenly much deeper with lust and Geralt clenched his jaw as the man moved his hips in small thrusts and girations, his body tightening around him as he went.

Soon Jaskier was riding him with abandon, and moaning loudly and Geralt didn't care anymore who heard, the whole house could crumble to the ground around them and he'd not care, all that mattered was this beautiful bard in his lap, moaning oh so prettily as he took him and then Geralt got with the program and began meeting each of his thrusts with his own, and did the bard get even louder? He vaguely hoped so.

"Oh yes Geralt, feels so good..." Jaskier babbled and fell on top of him, letting Geralt take control. Geralt captured his lips in a searing kiss as he drove into him, drawing gasps from the other till one hard thrust had him keening in delight, throwing his head back and Geralt knew he'd found the mark. "Fuck… more Geralt, I'm going to come." Jaskier begged and Geralt stretched to place his lips over his throat, sucking a dark mark that would bloom there for hours and that was the tipping point as the bard shook in his arms and came. Cum spattered both of their chests and Geralt groaned as Jaskier tightened around him as he came and Geralt followed after him quickly.

Jaskier collapses on his chest, heaving breaths and Geralt was surprised how heavy he's breathing too, his normally slow heartbeat going twice as fast as usual, and he could almost say he felt like a normal man, spent and bone tired, and he revels in the feeling as he cards his fingers through the soft brown locks of hair on the bard's head.

Jaskier takes a moment before he looks up at him, his brows lifted in a curious expression. "Was that good for you?" He asks and Geralt barks a laugh as he brings the bard up further on his chest so they're nose to nose.

"More than good, little lark." he rumbles and Jaskier's smile fills his heart with warmth.

They lay like that for an age, drifting in and out of slumber, kissing when they were both awake enough, admiring the other when they weren't. Geralt wished it could stay like this forever until a soft knock sounded on the door.

"Geralt? It's me." The soft voice of his adopted daughter says through the door and Jaskier looks up at him pained. His arms tighten around his lover, and kisses his forehead before moving to find his cotton braese, his body like lead.

He knew Ciri would return for him, he'd just hoped that maybe she'd take more time. He selfishly thought if he just didn't answer the door they could pretend she hadn't come back but he held no illusions, they'd have to face the inevitable.

He opens the door and steps out, Ciri keeping herself occupied with studying a particularly interesting painting on the wall. She turned her gaze to him, her arms crossed loosely over her chest and gave him a knowing look.

"You don't waste time." Was all she said and he blew out a sigh so exasperated she laughed.

"You're here to return him." He stated bluntly and she nodded, having the compassion to look apologetic. "Come here." He said gesturing for her to come closer and she did, embracing him. "Missed you." He said gruffly into her hair.

"Missed you too dad." She said quietly into his chest. They parted after a moment, the same sad smile remained on her face and he sighed again.

"Does he really have too…" he started and she just gave him a petulant look that made him stop.

"You know the answer to that. Think about what would have happened if you didn't have Dandelion back then." She said and he shook his head knowing it was true.

"That… other me is a fucking asshole though. The bard deserves better. He deserves…" he growled.

"You? Geralt you just met 3 days ago. I'm all for love or whatever this is, but we can't screw up their timeline. The events need to play out how they may. I only took him because…" she trailed off, lost in thought and Geralt's brow furrowed at her silence.

"Because why Ciri?" He asked and she shook her head, sitting on the table bench.

"I don't know. I was exploring, deciding on which place to settle next when I came across that bard. He just looked so scared and alone, and the ghouls had him surrounded. I don't usually intervene but… something told me I had too. Like this voice in my head, 'save the bard'... It was like when I first saw you in the woods when I was small. Like-"

"Destiny" they said in unison, their eyes meeting for a moment before she looked away.

"This can't be what it meant though Geralt. I was meant to save him, not take him away completely."

"Then why bring him here? I trained you well, you could have taken a pack of ghouls without hardly breaking a sweat and been off."

"But I didn't, I know. Now I'm truly regretting doing that." She gave him a pointed look and he huffed in annoyance.

Before she can say more to his attitude the bedroom door opens slowly and Jaskier appears, his wrinkled pants and chemise looking disheveled and a bright blush on his cheeks.

"I-uh…" he stutters comically as he inches past them trying to not disturb them but they're both silently watching him as he just breaks into a brisk walk to the stairs and disappears out of sight again.

Geralt hangs his head with a smile, a light chuckle moving his shoulders and Ciri looks at him like he's grown a second head.

"I've never seen you like this Geralt. How can one man in three days make you so…" she asks quietly.

"Happy? Dunno. He's just... got a way about him." He says and Ciri looks at him like she's guilty of something, so he turns his gaze away.

They sit in silence for what feels like a long couple of minutes before the bard makes a reappearance at the foot of the stairs. He looked freshened up, his hair swooped to one side, his eyes bright when they landed on Geralt, and wearing the maroon doublet he purchased the day before, shining gold embodied floss sewn in delicate flowers along the hems. Geralt thinks to himself that the bard looks quite handsome, his hand covering a soft smile on his face and he catches Ciri looking between them as Jaskier approaches.

"Forgive my previous appearance dear Princess, I did not expect to meet royalty so early in the morning." Jaskier says with a bow and sweep of his hand.

"You didn't have to come out right away..." Geralt mumbled and Jaskier stuck his tongue out at him, making Ciri laugh.

"No one has used that title in nearly a decade, but thank you. It's just Ciri." She said and he merely shrugged.

"Jaskier the bard pleased to meet you. And also pleased to be alive, so thank you for that." He continued and sat close to Geralt, their thighs brushing, and it made him feel a bit better. "So… I assume you've returned to take me back then?" He asked his tone just the slightest bit sad, and Geralt's emotions short circuit a bit at that. Because if Jaskier would rather stay with him too then why can't he?!

"Yes, you've guessed correctly. I know you two have created a...bond in the past few days..."

"Try decades." Jaskier interrupts but claps a hand over his mouth with an apology that Geralt barks a laugh at, ruffling a hand in his hair affectionately.

"Right… But you must return to your world."

"And why exactly must I? I mean, what's one bard anyway." He says folding his arms over his chest trying to sound nonchalant but the self deprecating tone still bleeds through.

"One bard is the reason why I didn't give up trying to find and save my daughter." Geralt says earnestly and Jaskier looks up at him with wide eyes. They share a look and Jaskier turns to Ciri who just nods at him and he sighs looking down at the table.

"Well… you're different. And so is that Dandelion fellow. What makes you think m…" he stops himself abruptly and only continues when he chooses his words more carefully. "The other Geralt even needs me…" he says and rests his head on top of his arms looking glum.

Geralt gives Ciri a loaded look and she just sighs. "I can't believe I'm saying this but I can't make decisions for you. If you choose to stay I can't stop you…" she says defeated and Jaskier looks up so fast Geralt fears he might give himself whiplash.

"Really?! You mean I could stay?!" Jaskier says so hopeful it hurts and Ciri can't look at him and turns her gaze to Geralt. Jaskier follows her gaze with wide pleading eyes and when did it come down to him, he wonders.

"I… this is… fuck why are you looking at me?" He grumbles and Jaskier starts to close in on himself, and before he realizes he's putting an arm around the bard in reassurance. "Jaskier?"

"I… think I'll go get some fresh air, leave you two too…" Ciri says and stands, Geralt watches her leave in a hurry out the door to the courtyard. He then turns his attention back to the bard pressed into his side.

"Jaskier, talk to me."

"Would you Geralt?" He asks quietly and Geralt furrows his brow at the question and Jaskier visibly swallows before elaborating. "Want me… to stay… I'd understand if you didn't, what we had was...nice. I didn't expect it to be more than short lived anyway..." He tried to hide his disappointment and started pulling away.

"Fuck you're unbelievable." He finally spoke and pulled the bard back to him, smashing their lips together in a heated kiss. They broke apart breathless, and Jaskier just looked at him with parted lips as he panted quietly. "I didn't… what we did. It wasn't just a fling, or a one-off Jaskier. I…" he struggled with the words because he didn't know what he wanted to say. Was this love? Destiny? He wasn't sure, all he did know was that he wanted, NEEDED the bard to stay.

"So… you would want me to stay?" Jaskier takes pity on him and he sighs, burying his nose in Jaskier's neck, inhaling him deeply.

"Yes." He rasps hoarsely. "Please stay." He says and it feels so weird to be the one asking, begging even for something, but he can't find it in him to be sorry for asking just this once.

"Ok. I'll stay, Geralt." He says, his voice hitching and Geralt just hugs him tighter, the weight on his chest he didn't realize was there lifting.

"Let's tell Ciri." He said and Jaskier nodded and they stood and went to find her.

She was leaning over a rail, eyes tightly closed and Geralt had a bad feeling about it. "Ciri?" He asked and she shook her head in response and he remained quiet till she came out of the trance, slumping a little at the effort and Geralt put a supportive hand on her back.

"I'm fine, thanks." she said waving him off as she straightened, turning to them.

"What was that Ciri?"

"I was scrying. It's harder when it's through other worlds. What have you decided." She asks, changing the subject, placing her hands on her hips, looking every bit like her adoptive mother.

"He's staying." Geralt said firmly and put an arm around the bard who pressed into his side at the declaration.

"I suspected as much… I can't force you to do anything, but there is a problem with that." She said and Geralt just continued to look at her with a placid expression so she continued. "They're searching for him. In my scrye I could feel someone looking for him through the chaos currents. I assume it's most likely Triss or even Yennefer, I couldn't tell from the scrye alone though."

Geralt grumbles his annoyance but his attention is brought to the bard at his side, his grip having tightened on this bicep at the mention of Yenn.

"They're looking for me?" He asked quietly and Ciri nodded. His brow furrowed in thought and Geralt started to worry as well. Was he reconsidering his earlier desire to stay? "Can't you just… tell them I'm alright? To stop looking?"

"It's not so simple. If I were to reveal myself in that world… The consequences would be detrimental." She explains and Jaskier sighs, his hands seem to be holding onto Geralt for dear life.

"I have to go then…" he hangs his head and Geralt's heart lurches.

"No you don't." He growls and they all look at him.

"But I do, you know if they're searching they won't stop. It's not in his… your nature." He says meeting his eyes and he groans at the truth of the words.

"I could take him and return him once he's done Geralt. They just need to know they can stop looking." Ciri tells him as he shakes his head.

"If he's going, I'm coming with."

"But you hate portals" Ciri and Jaskier both chime at him, the latter looking more concerned for him than the former. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Don't care, can't have something happen to either of you there. If their timeline is where I think it is you could run into the Nilfgaardian army, or worse… a pissed Yennefer." He says and Jaskier visibly shudders at the thought.

"You know, I think he might be right, Ciri. Yenn does in fact kind of hate me. I'm sure of it, especially after that song…" Jaskier gives Geralt a pointed look. "Besides what would be the harm?"

"How about if he's seen? Meleteli forbid if by his other self. The consequences that could rain down."

"He's Geralt of Rivia! I'm sure he can manage to go unseen." Jaskier waves off her concerns and grins at Geralt who just shrugs. She sighs and brushes past them, moving to the courtyard for a more open area to open a portal.

"Go, I'll be right behind you." Geralt tells him and returns inside to collect his armor and swords.

They go through the portal and Geralt HATES it, but he sucks up the complaint as his head stops spinning, giving the new surroundings a thorough inspection.

Trees, a forest and rocky terrain, if Geralt didn't know better he'd say they were in the blue mountains.

"Wow." Jaskier breathes and Geralt belatedly realizes he's wandered off to a cliff face, he rushes over to his side, grasping his wrist to give him a tug back from the ledge and looks up as Jaskier looks surprised and points. Across the valley is the keep of Kaer Morhen.

"Shit. Haven't seen this since…" he trails off, the pain of the memory of Vesemir's death rears it's head as he takes in the decaying beauty of what once was his home. Jaskier says his name in a concerned tone and it brings him back to the present, he glances at Ciri, who also has a haunted look on her face but she just smiles sadly. "I'm fine. Just old memories."

"Memories? What is this place?" Jaskier asks.

"It's Kaer Morhen." Ciri answers, and they catch her wiping a tear from her eye. "Where Witchers are made. Where I found my new family. The scrier is in the keep."

"Triss." Geralt smiles fondly at the name.

"Most likely. You and Yenn were still not talking at that time right?" Ciri asks and he shrugs.

"Some things never change." He stated simply and Jaskier barked a laugh at that.
"Come on. The hike down the valley will take most of the morning." He says and leads the way with Jaskier's hand in his, not taking a chance on the bard tripping and falling to his death. Ciri takes the rear and thankfully doesn't comment on their little display but whenever he turns back to look she's smirking.

True to his word, they arrived at the treeline around the keep by about noon, the sun high in the sky. Jaskier had only tripped twice, a record low! He cheered as they reached flatter terrain to which received groans from both of the Witchers.

"Now what?" Jaskier whispers dramatically for no reason and Geralt gives him a look of confusion and he just shrugs.

Before any of them can say more or come up with a plan the rattling sound of the gate's portcullis reaches them and they turn to watch it rise and voices carry from the keep.

"Triss, how the fuck could he be nowhere for weeks and now he's suddenly at our door? We're on the side of a fucking mountain. He'd die trying to get here." A familiar growl intones.

"I don't know Geralt, but I clearly saw him in the vision, hydromancy doesn't lie." The reply is that of a lighter if exasperated sounding woman.

Through the gate an imposing figure marches out, scanning the surroundings with keen golden eyes, and Jaskier shrinks behind the tree they're standing at. Geralt clenches his fist in anger at the bard's reaction and lays eyes on this… 'other' version of himself.

He's younger, and dare he say a bit more trim than he is now (and doesn't that just stick in his craw). He's also lightly stubbled instead of the full beard he likes to keep, and he rolled his eyes at that. He wasn't armed, at least not visibly; being at the closest thing he ever could call home he's not entirely surprised but wouldn't underestimate him, and why was he thinking that? He was brought from his thoughts as said version of him rested his hands on his hips in irritation and started yelling angrily.

"Jaskier!"

"Ah Fuck…" the bard whispered beside him and Ciri gave him a concerned look, her gazing falling on Geralt, a warning in her eye. The yelling continued and drew closer as the man was now scenting the air, and he cursed under his breath, taking a whiff of his still nicely perfumed doublet. He sighed, smoothing his hands down his doublet to brush away any errant dirt, but Geralt could guess it's a nervous tick and then he stepped out into the open with a flourish before Geralt could stop him.

"Ah, Geralt! There you are! Beautiful weather we're having, the mountains in spring, make me want to compose a sonnet." He started to babble and Geralt had to contain a snort at his attempt but his younger self didn't take much of a liking to it.

"What in the fuck are you doing out here?!"

"Uh well, funny story that is… I took a wrong turn back at Redania, headed East instead of West. Some merchant called it weast or something when I asked, strange fellow, selling rocks if you'd believe, but I wouldn't be caught dead in a color combination like his ensemble…" He talked quickly which only served to enrage the witcher more, who stepped aggressively closer, his hand curling into the front of the bard's doublet and Geralt saw red as well. Ciri sensing it tried to hold him back with a firm hand on his shoulder but he was after all a witcher too.

The man was nearly lifting Jaskier off his feet, teeth bared and Jaskier was cringing away, which explained why neither of them saw the blow coming. Jaskier dropped to the ground with a slight stumble and backed away, as the witcher also reeled back at the punch to the jaw.

"You ok?" Geralt asked helping the bard steady and he nodded. Satisfied for now he turned back to his younger self, putting himself between him and Jaskier.

His younger self cursed, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth and when he looked up his expression flitted between anger and confusion, eventually just settling on the former.

"What the fuck is gong on?" He finally asked through gritted teeth, his hand moving up without thought to the absent sword not strapped to his back for a moment before he just growled.

The woman, Triss, hurried to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder in a strangely comforting gesture as he gave her a glance and eased minutely. She squinted as she took him in, her eyes widening in awe, as she looked between the two of them. "Geralt, this will sound crazy but that's *you*. You're bard seems to have… well I honestly don't know how…" she stammers unlike herself.

"I get that. Jaskier what the fuck is going on here?" The younger responds and Jaskier peeks out from behind him.

"Well… uh…you see… when you, or I left you really, after the dragon. I..." Jaskier searched for the words but Ciri interrupted, revealing herself from the trees as well with a sigh.

"I can explain that." She came forward and Geralt gave her an apologetic look and she just rolled her eyes. "So much for self control Dad." She muttered and the other Geralt's eyes widened.

"Ciri?" He breathed and she shrugged.

"I… think me and Ciri need to have a woman to woman talk."Triss says quickly, and before she pulls away kisses his cheek chastely. "Behave Geralt." She scolds, her eyes darting between them both to which they both huff, the younger glaring daggers at his older self. The three stood in awkward silence, Jaskier bouncing from foot to foot with anxiousness and rested a comforting hand on his shoulders and he seemingly relaxed at the touch. The younger watched their small interactions with a scrutinizing eye for a time, but just crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared off watching the two women talk in hushed voices at the gate when it confused him more.

Soon enough they returned, Triss looking every bit as confused as she was awed by the silver haired girl. "Jaskier and Geralt, ere... my Geralt, come with me." She said.

"Not happening." He said, putting himself further in front of him, and his younger self growled low in his throat at the blatant possessive tone.

"Geralt, you've caused enough drama today, time to go home." Ciri told him, receiving a full betrayed look from him. "Jaskier, go." She said and he also turned a sorrowful face to her. "My God you men, I'll be waiting here till you're done with the conversation you need to settle with him. You." And she pokes a finger into Geralt's chest. "Have done enough damage for one day."

"You promise too…" he trails off, and she nods.

"If that is what he wishes, yes." She says, her tone serious.

He sighs and turns back to the bard who looks utterly confused. His hands lift to gently cup his face, taking a long look at him before diving to claim his lips in a passionate kiss. He doesn't know if this will be the last time he gets the chance, he prays it's not, but at least he'll have this last kiss to remember him by if he doesn't… He pulls away, resting their foreheads together, eyes closed.

"You kiss me like I'm going off to war." Jaskier says in quiet amusement, but the look in his eye tells him that's exactly how he feels.

"Whatever you decide…" Geralt says in a husky tone, swiping his thumb over his cheek in soft strokes. He clears his throat, deciding to let the words lie, and Jaskier nods, bringing his own hand to rest over Geralt's.

"I'll see you soon." He promises and steps away to follow the sorceress and the witcher to the keeps entrance, only looking back once before disappearing beyond the gate. Geralt watches him and continues to stare even after he disappears from sight, only brought from his daze by Ciri.

"Geralt." She calls, an orange glowing portal awaiting and he sighs, they were right, he really does hate portals. She returns him back home to the courtyard, and though the sky is bright without a cloud in sight and the wind is warm, he can't seem to shake the ice that's frozen his veins from the mountain side.

He turns, but the portal closes behind him, an obvious message that he's not allowed back and he feels the ice slowly grip his heart. "Well, that was nice while it lasted." He grumbles to himself, already feeling like he's lost the most important thing he'd ever had.

He sighs, and goes off to his hill and lies on the chaise to wallow in his own misery. He should have known this would end this way, half expected it despite what Ciri had said. She couldn't make those kinds of promises, he knew, bending the laws of realities to suit her Father's desires wasn't something that was allowed, he guesses he should be thankful for what he did have.

Time passed, the sun setting over the valley, beautiful colors streaked the sky but Geralt hardly noticed. The sun had just started to dip behind the distant mountains when a portal flaired to life, startling him from his thoughts.

The portal flickers for an agonizingly long couple of moments, so long in fact Geralt was doubting why it appeared, when Jaskier finally stepped through. Relief filled him, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, when the bard smiled at him. He rose to his feet and gathered him into his arms, breathing deeply the scent of him. Jaskier, to his credit, merely embraced him back, tucking his head under Geralt's chin.

"Thought you'd decided to stay…" he admits quietly and the bard just hugs him tighter.

"You can't lose me so easily." Jaskier replies, and he hums contentedly.

***Epilogue***

The days turned into weeks, and soon a full month had nearly passed since Jaskier had decided to stay. They spent the days however they wished, Geralt happy to indulge his bard in whatever he desired, well almost anything. The picnics on the hill and trips into town were nice, but once Jaskier started getting invites to the gatherings in the city Geralt grumbled about 'mingling with his fans,' as Jaskier had declared it.

"You saved their lives Geralt, let them repay you in the best way they know how!" Jaskier had begged him as they received an invitation to an artist's soiree, and he begrudgingly agreed. That night Jaskier had also 'repaid his thanks' to him with his talented tongue and fingers.

The next evening they rode out to an estate that was only a short trip to the banks of the river, the full moon lighting the way and shining prettily on the water. Geralt figured they had planned the party just so, knowing the people around here would take even the moons cycle into consideration, and to be honest he was glad for it, the look of wonder on Jaskier's face, and the sparkle in his blue eyes still made Geralt's heart constrict. He'd give the bard the world if he'd ask for it.

They dismount Roach and as Geralt handed off her reins to a stablehand Jaskier dug through her saddlebags.

"A-ha!" He proclaimed and pulled out two masks with a grin. He handed Geralt a crescent moon shaped mask, in a glowing white which was only meant to cover half of his face, the mask embellished with blue sapphires that matched his navy blue silken shirt Jaskier had picked for him, knowing he wouldn't be caught dead in a doublet so it wasn't worth the fight, but it seemed he saved up the expense for the mask.

"This looks a bit much?" He says but takes it as Jaskier waved it at him.

"Oh come on, it's one night. And you'll like dashing. Picture it; me, the sun to your moon, the day to your night, the…"

"You already are that." Geralt said and put the mask on without further argument and Jaskier just watched with a lovestruck expression. "Well? Aren't you going to put yours on, sunshine?" He said with a smirk and enjoyed the red tinge the bard's cheeks took at the endearment.

"Fuck Geralt, you can't just be all adorable like that. I'm trying to create a reputation around here." He said quickly and put on the mask that went over his brow, gold and shining paint reflecting in the torch light of the stable doors.

"And what kind of reputation do you need, lark?" Geralt laughed but stopped abruptly as Jaskier pressed against him intimately.

"The one where everyone knows I'm not just the Witcher's bard, some poor pup nipping at his heels for scraps of affection. No, I'm the Witcher's lover, and there's no question if there's room in his bed for more." Jaskier rasps in his ears, his lips trailing wet kisses behind it and Geralt groans.

"Never any doubts about that." He groans, resting his hands on the bard's waist. "You're more than enough of a handful for me."

"I know…" Jaskier grins with a twinkle in his eye and leans up the inch or so to kiss him deeply, and Geralt could get behind this idea rather than any party, but before he can take it further Jaskier pulls away.
"Ah ah Later, if you're good. I have a performance!" He says with a wag of his finger.

"You know I'm terrible at being good." he murmurs, playfully nipping at the finger in front of him and Jaskier's eyes grow dark.

"Then be extra bad and see what happens." He dares, but dances out of the witcher's grasp, before he can react and takes a few long strides in the direction of the garden gates where the party sounds are growing louder. "*After* I play. Come on." He says and Geralt follows, though slightly less reluctant now. The faster they get this over with the more time he'll have to take the cheeky bard apart.

It seemed, or at least to him, that they were late to the party. A group of minstrels, two Geralt recognized as the ones who accompanied Jaskier in the marketplace, were playing on a stage, and nearly a hundred people were walking around, conversing, and some were just flat out drunk and stumbling already.

Jaskier had given him a wink and disappeared into the crowd, effortlessly spinning as he took a full glass of wine from a waiter.

Geralt shook his head in amusement, grabbing a glass of his own and went to find a spot to lurk that he wouldn't be too bothered in. Of course, no matter the frills or frippery his bard could put him in to disguise his identity, the only half mask not helping much at all, he heard not so subtle whispers as he passed other people.

'Oh, the witcher is here.' A giggle behind a ladies fan.
'The bard will be here now too.'
'Perhaps he'll debut a new song.'
'We might be so lucky. Master Dandelion…'

'Dandelion? Here?' Geralt paused, but the ladies had disappeared in the crowd before he could hear more. 'Surely he'd have sent word if he was planning to come to Beauclaire.' Geralt thought but just shrugged and carried on, hoping to find a good place to watch Jaskier's performance.

He found said desired spot just to the left of the stage, against the trunk of a beautifully blooming mimosa. He had half a mind to take some of the blooms to cultivate his own trees back home, but the band of minstrels ceased their playing as the host took the stage and the crowd quieted.

"Thank you for attending our soiree this evening. It is now my pleasure to present to you, the bard Jaskier." He said and clapped getting the crowd going as Jaskier appeared from the crowd, bowing graciously at the applause and immediately strummed his lute to a familiar tune, his accompaniment joining him a moment later.

The evening went by like that, sipping wine from a goblet, having a casual few words with the few who dared to approach him under his shaded sanctuary, (shocked so many felt comfortable too as his glowing yellow eyes in the dark usually scared everyone away with any sense) but most importantly watching his bard play his heart out. Jaskier played beautifully, and sure he pranced and and preened like any good performer but he always sounded so genuine, his emotions on full display as he sang of love and adventure. And everytime their eyes meet Jaskier would sing as if only to him, his stomach flipping with that familiar feeling of love.

A loud sound tore his attention away after so long, a glass breaking, a shout and a laugh. 'Someone's drunk.' He thought and just as he turned to look in the direction a familiar figure stumbled over a tree root, a flash of gaudy purple and gold falling against his chest, with an oof.

"So sorry good sir, it seems I- Geralt?!" Dandelion cried as he looked up with swimming bloodshot eyes, the blue standing out even in the dark. "Oh my, who dressed you so nicely." He slurred, pawing his hands over his chest and Geralt grasped his wrists in his hands, creating some distance between them and setting him back on his feet.

"I heard someone mention your name but didn't think you'd be here, at least not without telling me you were in the area."

"I wanted to surprise you tomorrow with a visit of course! But the bigger surprise is you at a party! And looking so debonair might I add. So who is the lucky lady that managed to wrestle you into coming? Triss, I bet, eh? She was always down for a party and dragging you to them." Dandelion laughed drunkenly, going back to leaning against Geralt's side heavily.

"Actually, the bard-" Geralt began but Dandelion cut him off with a flippant hand wave.

"Oh! I know, how ghastly, right? Can't hold a tune and none of these simpletons notice when they're in the presence of TRUE greatness, am I right Geralt? How dare this… mockery be allowed to go on! Only I! The great Master Dandelion is allowed to sing of your perilous and daring adventures!" Dandelion went on pompously and Geralt rolled his eyes at the drunk troubadour. Applause erupted around them and Geralt looked up to see Jaskier give a low bow, standing up again with a hand over his heart and a gracious smile, before leaving the stage. "Yes, yes, clap for mediocrity. Pssh…"

"Dear God Dandelion, are you jealous or what?" Geralt said and the resounding gasp made him snort a laugh.

"How dare you, Geralt! You, my oldest and dearest friend, think THAT was something for me, the most celebrated troubadour on the CONTINENT, to be jealous of?!"

"Ah! Geralt!" A chipper voice sounded and Jaskier bounded over to Geralt's other side and leaned up on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "And who is…" he began to ask but stopped as Dandelion stared slack jawed at him.

"Jaskier meet Dandelion. Dandelion meet Jaskier…" Geralt introduced, noting this as the most awkward moment of his life.

"Huh, wow, I knew I'd meet you someday, I just didn't expect it to be today!" Jaskier says sheepishly offering a hand and Dandelion just looked aghast at it, like the hand might grow teeth and bite him. He forcefully pulled on Geralt's arm, and dramatically and quite loudly whispered to him.

"Geralt are you off your gourd or just plain gone insane?! There's a doppler posing as me!! Albeit poorly might I say, but he has my face! And it's baby smooth! And my voice!! I think I might faint." He cried and promptly swooned into the Witcher's arms on the spot.

"Fucking idiot." Geralt grumbled, supporting all of Dandelion's dead weight in his arms and Jaskier couldn't hold back a laugh.

"You weren't kidding when you said garish…" Jaskier commented.

"Says the man in gold silks." He replied and slapped at Dandelion's cheek lightly to rouse him but only got a groan from him. "Great, were going to have to get him back to the ranch." He said and Jaskier pouted.

"Damn. And I was really looking forward to undressing you in a darkened alcove and rewarding you for good behavior… But I suppose it can wait while you play the hero once again." Jaskier agreed with an exaggerated sigh and Geralt leaned in and kissed his lips briefly in apology before hefting his friend onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Jaskier led the way to the gate, clearing the crowd with a flourish and Geralt caught whispers of speculation, 'Did the famous Dandelion have a long lost cousin?!' He chuckled all the way to the stables.

They called for both Roach and Dandelion's gelding, Pegasus, to be brought out and Jaskier took the troubadour's horse while Geralt balanced Dandelion in front of him on Roach and they rode home.

Geralt carried the poet up to the guest room and laid him down as he muttered about imposters, then retreated to bed with his bard.

"That was an interesting turn of events, I must say." Jaskier said as he entered, and Geralt laid eyes on the disrobed man in his bed with hunger in his eyes. Jaskier merely smirked, shifting on the sheets, arching his back prettily and sticking his bottom in the air like a gift to be presented, and God was it ever. Geralt started to tug at the buttons at his chest but Jaskier quickly sat up, and moved his hands away. "Let me…" he purred, nimble fingers moving agonizingly slow, popping each button from its hold in succession, exposing creamy skin to the coolness of the room. Each inch of skin revealed was kissed and worshipped, lips lingering over the silver lines of scars and stories of a lifetime of hardship needing to be consoled. Geralt sighed at the touches, running his hands over the bard's bare back and through his mop of chestnut hair.

Undressed finally, they fell into the sheets, hands and lips roaming over hard planes of muscle and soft skin. Moans of pleasure wrung out from tired lungs, but neither cared about such trivial things as sleep till their desires were sated with each other…

Come the morning, Geralt carefully extracted himself from his lover's arms. This was their routine, the witcher would rise, careful not to wake the bard and dress for the day. He'd greet Marlene in the kitchen, a cup of coffee being pressed into his hands with a smile, and he'd go out to the stables to greet Roach. He stayed with her till the sun touched her yard, and would turn her out to graze, then head back in to stir his still sleeping bard, helping him wake with soft back rubs and when he rolled over finally a fresh cup of coffee awaited him.

Today, however, was different.

The moment he stepped out of his room and shut the door with a soft click thunderous steps sounded on the stairs. Dandelion, with his hair still mussed from sleep, floppy hat askew but still clinging to his head by sheer spite, his doublet absent and chemise was rucked up, half untucked from his trousers and Geralt almost thought he was the one who was debauched the night before, instead of the sleeping bard beyond his closed bedroom door.

"Morning." He greeted with a grin and Dandelion's face flashed with anger.

"Don't you morning me, you… you cad! You absolute dog! Instead of running off dopplers now you sleep with one?! And one that's a more youthful version of me?! After all my years of devotion!" He yelled and Geralt huffed and approached the wailing troubadour.

"Dandelion, please. Sit." He said and the man gave him a glare but eventually plopped on the bench, crossing his arms over his chest, a hurt look on his face. "Stay. I'll explain." He said sternly and brought out coffee for his hungover friend.

They talked and Geralt explained, Dandelion giving many eyerolls at the beginning of his story, but as he went into more detail, about who Jaskier really was, his expression softened and his interest peeked at the recounting of him punching his other self in the face.

"Satisfied he's not a doppler now?" Geralt asked as Dandelion looked at him misty eyed and sniffed.

"That poor dear, always stuck with a dreadful witcher for a lover... Must be terrible." Dandelion said dramatically, wiping a tear from his eye and Geralt reached out and flicked him in the ear. "Hey! I was kidding!"

"Uh huh." Geralt grumbled but grinned anyway and Dandelion stuck his tongue out at him. "So what are you doing this far South anyway?" He asked, sitting back relaxed. "And when do you go anywhere unannounced? Last I checked you were as unsubtle as they come."

"Truly Geralt, am I so predictable? I mean really." Dandelion took another long sip from his mug, pointedly ignoring the nonplussed look Geralt gave him. After a few moments of inspecting the dark contents of his mug he sighed exasperated and relented. "Fine, I'm bored. Uninspired! I've grown complacent Geralt!"

"What happened with Priscilla?" Geralt asked, shocked and Dandelion's expression turned dreamy and forlorn.

"She's great! Made a full recovery, and it's been a while so she is touring with a group of troubadours. I couldn't make her stay in one place. Of all people, I would never want to chain someone down. But I had the Cabaret and didn't want to leave all the responsibility to Zoltan so quickly. But when she left… things weren't the same. I missed her. A month of that and Zoltan was practically forcing me to go. So I thought I'd come visit my best friend. Oh! And I have a gift for you!" He rambled and stood, looking around for said item but then realized his things were still probably with Pegasus.

"I brought your things up for you last night." Geralt commented and he beamed and scurried up the stairs.

As Geralt heard the troubadour curse and rummage around through his things, the creak of his bedroom door sounded and Jaskier appeared with a soft smile.

"What a lovely morning. Just you, me-"
"A-HA!" A shout from upstairs interrupting him and he blinked at the stairs.
"And that loud man from last night that looks like me." Jaskier teased with a grin and leaned in to steal a kiss from Geralt.

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." Geralt rumbled, pushing a mug toward him.

"Pssh, give me a break, you love my loud-mouth. Especially when it's wrapped around your..."

"Finally! I *know* you're going to love this Geralt, you said as much before." Dandelion's voice carried as he came back down the stairs. He took the opportunity to dress, his feathered bonnet sitting just so on his head now, not as haphazardly as before, and in his arms was a large scroll holder.

"Oh no, don't tell me that's what I think it is." He groans as Dandelion smirks and uncaps the tube and pulls out what appears to be a painting. He unfurled it with a snap and there, in all its glory is the most ridiculous painting known to man. Or at least to Geralt.

The painting depicts Dandelion, in a red flowing cape, standing over a slain forktail. A sword, every bit as long as Dandelion is tall juts from the beast's breast.

Jaskier stands, his eyes wide and takes a long look at the painting. Geralt braces for the snide remarks and arguments to start but Jaskier surprises him with what he says.

"That is bloody brilliant! The details!" Jaskier gawked and Dandelion preened at the compliment.

"I've decided I like you now." Dandelion commented with the same air a king would accept a member into his court.

"Gosh thanks, what an honour I'm sure." Jaskier went on in an obviously sarcastic tone, and Dandelion laughed.

"Yes, good. Geralt needs that kind of needling in his life, or he's bound to get himself wrapped up in trouble again." Dandelion said and rolled the painting back up and into its scroll again. "Well, while I would love to stay a while longer, I don't want to interrupt your honeymooner lifestyle…" He says with an obviously depressed tone to his voice.

Jaskier gave Geralt a meaningful look at that and a thought came to him.

"Dandelion…" he started.

"Yes Geralt?" The troubadour looked up with bright eyes and the witcher looked at him for a long moment, his gaze shifting between the two of them.

"What would you say to one more adventure?" He asked and Dandelion's face lit up with excitement.

Geralt supposed he'd have to contact Ciri again, because what good is a Witcher without his bard anyway?