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Chapter Text

Geralt could hear Jaskier’s breathing becoming more labored, could feel his body tightening around him, pulling him in. He trembled beneath Geralt, his fingernails digging into Geralt’s shoulder blades as his orgasm crept closer and closer. Geralt groaned as he buried his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck and breathed in his sweet scent that only got stronger as they both reached their climax. Geralt’s knot swelled and locked him inside Jaskier, where he’s always belonged. Jaskier’s legs tightened around Geralt’s waist and he came with a sweet cry of Geralt’s name.

They remained in each other’s arms as they always did, holding onto each other as they caught their breaths. Jaskier caressed Geralt’s back. His fingertips danced across the ridge of Geralt’s spine. Geralt shuddered pleasantly. He kissed Jaskier’s cheek.

Geralt pulled back slightly to look at his lover. Jaskier always looked so beautiful after lovemaking: his face was always beautifully flushed, with a thin sheen of sweat glistening at his temples. His big blue eyes were hooded and shiny with love, his pink lips swollen.

He looked like this now, too, but there was something else, something in his eyes that made Geralt frown. He found a profound sadness in those lovely eyes. His chest tightened with concern as he cupped Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier leant into his touch and gave him a smile, but it was a weak, sad one.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt asked him as he gently ran his thumb over Jaskier’s cheekbone. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, of course not,” Jaskier replied softly. He tucked a stray hair behind Geralt’s ear, smiling up at him. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not. I can see it.”

“I’m fine, Geralt. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Jask,” Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s. He heard Jaskier swallow. “Please, talk to me.”

Jaskier had always worn his heart on his sleeve. He was open about his feelings, and he never ever tried to hide anything from Geralt. He cried, laughed and screamed more freely than Geralt had ever seen anyone else do it. The last thing his Omega would do was to close himself away from his lover.

“It’s silly,” Jaskier eventually replied, after a long stretch of silence. He purposefully avoided Geralt’s eyes. He worried his lower lip between his teeth. Geralt grew increasingly more and more concerned.

“Tell me,” Geralt encouraged him softly. He caressed Jaskier’s cheek again. Jaskier sighed, then chuckled softly.

“You know what? I’ll tell you, once your knot goes down. This isn’t something I wanna talk about with your dick inside me, no matter how lovely it feels.”
Geralt snorted, and kissed Jaskier’s forehead. That, they could do, even if his thoughts raced and his heart pounded while he held Jaskier.

Once Geralt managed to pull out, he rolled over onto his side and pulled Jaskier against his chest. Jaskier nestled into his arm comfortably, and closed his eyes. Geralt gently nudged him in the side.

“So, what is it, Jaskier?”

Jaskier cracked one eye open and peered up at Geralt. Geralt raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” he chuckled, “you thought I would forget?”

“Dating a poet isn’t doing you any favors, it turned you into an overthinker,” Jaskier muttered. He sighed again. Geralt didn’t like how stiff he was in his arms, nor did he like the long silence that filled the room. He could hear Jaskier’s heart beating fast with nerves, and could smell his anxiety. He held Jaskier closer, trying to comfort the both of them from whatever trouble was wrecking Jaskier’s mind.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” was what Jaskier said, so quietly, so gently. Geralt frowned, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Jaskier bit his lip. He drew little patterns over Geralt’s chest with the tips of his fingers. He circled his heart, and let out a shaky breath.

“Because what troubles me would cause you pain, and I don’t want that.”

“Jaskier, whatever it is, I wanna know. Okay?”

“I…” Jaskier trailed off. Geralt couldn’t see his face, as he buried it in his chest, but smelled the salty scent of tears. He tightened his arms around Jaskier instinctively.

“I want a baby.”

It felt like no air was left in the room all of a sudden. Geralt’s brain tried to come up with the right words, but he didn’t manage. He just stared ahead as the silence stretched on, invasive, heavy. Jaskier didn’t even move against his side, and he barely breathed. Geralt noticed his own heart missed a couple beats.

He had no idea how long it took for him to squeeze out a quiet, weak “what?”

Jaskier sniffed softly. He suddenly felt like a heavy weight on Geralt’s chest. He also seemed to struggle to find the right words.

“I’m forty-two years old,” Jaskier whispered. His voice was choked up, like his throat didn’t want to release his words. “And I’m not going to get any younger, only older.”

“You never wanted a child,” Geralt found himself blurting it out. It was not the right thing to say, but his mind didn’t allow him to figure out what the sophisticated answer was to this situation.

“I know,” Jaskier said. His voice was so small. “I used to think it wasn’t for me. Sounded like too much hassle, too much commitment. And I saw what wanting it so bad did to Yennefer. I was fine without it. But… I’ve been thinking a lot, lately. About how I feel like I’m missing out on something. It’s been bothering me for months.”

“Months?” Geralt repeated numbly. “You’ve been thinking about kids for months, and didn’t tell me.”

“Because I didn’t know how. This feeling, it just… it hit me. That I’ve lived past my prime, and I didn’t even think about it. Ever. But now…I don’t know. I guess my body just realized I’m getting older, and I… I just started to…crave it. A child. Someone I can hold and protect and take care of. Someone who’s a part of me.”

“What about Ciri?” Geralt asked. He couldn’t keep the pain out of his voice. “You’re her family, too.”

“I know,” Jaskier replied softly. He looked up at Geralt with those big, wet eyes, and Geralt felt like someone stabbed him straight through the heart. “I’m her family, but I’m not her parent. That’s you and Yennefer. I want to have a child. A baby. I want to grow a little life inside me, and I want to nurse them, and rock them, and…I just can’t stop wanting it, I’m sorry.”

Realistically, Geralt knew that Jaskier didn’t need to feel bad about dreaming, ever. But his heart bled over his words all the same.

Him and Jaskier had been an inseparable item for more than two decades. They were first reluctant friends - mostly on Geralt’s side -, then really close ones, before it blossomed into love. Not even the fact that Geralt and Yennefer were a couple and raised Ciri together could change the fact that Geralt and Jaskier belonged together. They were each other’s biggest confidantes, partners in crimes, passionate lovers. For over twenty years, they learnt each other, saw and learnt to handle the worst, and reveled in the best in one another. They both made mistakes, hurt each other and then had to find their way back to each other, but they always managed, no matter what. They were the two sides of the same coin, and Geralt was certain that as long as they lived, they would never part. Their bond was unbreakable, and they knew each other better than they knew themselves.

And yet, Jaskier has never brought anything like this up in those decades. He slept around, but always returned to Geralt in the end. He fell in love, but he never left his witcher’s side. And despite him being an Omega, he never wanted to tie himself down like most of society expected him to. As a traveling bard who followed a grumpy Alpha witcher wherever he went, who fucked pretty much everything that moved and ran into danger head first, Jaskier defied all the ridiculous rules that were supposed to restrict his gender. He’d never longed for the warmth of a house, for children running around him, for cooking and baking and cleaning the house for his spouse. He was a free spirit, and that was one of the things that Geralt loved him about the most.

And at the age of forty-two, Jaskier suddenly revealed that he’d changed his mind about everything that Geralt had known about him before. He suddenly didn’t know what to do with it, not even after he’s experienced Yennefer’s desperation for a child. That was different. She was not Jaskier. Geralt didn’t understand how he found himself in this situation again.

He possibly wouldn’t have been so shocked, or at least not hurt, if he were capable of giving Jaskier what he needed. He knew by now, after having met Ciri, that while taking care of a child was no small feat, he was not as bad at it as he thought he would be. He loved his daughter with all his heart, and the idea of having a child together with Jaskier - while surreal, for sure - wouldn’t have been such a nightmarish thought, except for the fact that the only way Geralt could have a child was by invoking the law of surprise. But that was not what Jaskier was craving. He wanted to get pregnant. He wanted his own baby.

“You know that I can’t give you a child,” Geralt replied. Every single word made his heart ache more and more.

“I know,” Jaskier whispered. He curled in on himself slightly. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, because…”

“Because I’m broken,” Geralt finished it for him. Jaskier gasped in horror. He whipped his head up, staring up at Geralt with wide eyes.

“No!” he said quickly, “you’re not!”

“Aren’t I?” Geralt scoffed. He didn’t want to hurt Jaskier, not on purpose, but the pain Jaskier’s revelation caused didn’t allow him to think clearly. “You just told me you want to be pregnant. You’re with a sterile Alpha. What use do I have for you?”

“Please, don’t say that,” Jaskier pleaded. He moved to face Geralt and cupped his cheeks.

“You’re not broken. I would never think of you that way. And I wish I could get rid of this longing, I tried! But every single time it just keeps coming back stronger…I got old. My biology got demanding. And my heart, too. I never would have thought I would say this, but I want to settle down. I want to have a family.”

“With whom?”

“With you!”

“I have to remind you again, that if you want to get pregnant from me, you’re in for a sad surprise. But I thought you managed to comprehend this in the past twenty-four years.”

Jaskier’s lips wobbled. Tears fell from his eyes as he pulled back. Of course, he was the one crying, even though he just twisted a dagger inside Geralt with everything he said. Geralt let out a frustrated sigh.
“You’re being mean for no reason,” Jaskier whispered. Geralt chuckled bitterly.

“No reason? I thought I was done with this bullshit after the things that went down with Yennefer, and yet, here we are. You do have a family, we are a family! Why isn’t it enough for you?”

“I’m not going to apologize for my feelings,” Jaskier snapped. Angry tears streamed down his face as he sat up, pulling even further away from Geralt. “You think I’m happy about this? You think I want to hurt you on fucking purpose!? This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“What the hell do you expect me to do?” Geralt asked him. He sat against the headboard, glaring at Jaskier. “Find a djinn? Find a mage? Fix myself just so you can pop out a baby before you run out of time?”

“Why are you being like this?” Jaskier cried. He hugged his blanket against himself, trying to shield himself from Geralt’s harsh words. “This isn’t something I can control! This isn’t physical hunger that you can ignore! And yes, guess what, I do want to have a baby while I still can! I bet it must be wonderful to not age, but I’m sorry, my body actually does do that. So, yes, I do need to get pregnant soon if I want a child in this life.”

“Maybe you should have thought about this before you chose an infertile Alpha.”

Jaskier shook his head. He trembled, his hands fisted in the sheets. He suddenly tore himself out of the bed and stormed out of the room and into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut so hard behind him, it nearly came off its hinges. Geralt rubbed his cheeks with a groan.

Once Jaskier returned from the bathroom, he lay back on the bed with his back to Geralt. They stayed in silence for long hours, both of them steaming in their own pain. Geralt wanted to punch every single wall in the room, but most of all, he wanted to punch himself. For hurting Jaskier again, and for being so useless. He never would have thought that one day he would become the obstacle to Jaskier’s happiness. It was a pain incomparable to anything else.

He looked at Jaskier’s back. He knew he was awake, could hear how even his breathing was, as well as the small sniffles. Geralt’s chest tightened.

He wrapped his arm around Jaskier and pulled him back to his chest. Jaskier stiffened for a second, before he grabbed Geralt’s hand and squeezed it to his own chest. He started crying again, his entire body shaking with his sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt whispered against his neck, his own tears falling onto Jaskier’s skin. “I’m so sorry, Jaskier.”

“Me too,” Jaskier whispered. He twisted his neckto face Geralt. He kissed him with a desperation that Geralt couldn’t even describe. He just knew it made his heart hurt even more.

They held each other through the night, but neither of them slept. Neither of them brought up the subject that hung over their heads like a heavy cloud, again.

Chapter Text

There was an emotion in Yennefer's eyes that Jaskier didn't see often: pity. It made him scratch at his arm self-consciously.

“So, yeah,” he concluded with an embarrassed little chuckle, “guess we're not so different. Except my ass is better.”

Yennefer snorted with an eyeroll. She lightly swatted at Jaskier.

“And your eyesight is definitely worse if that's what you see, but alas. I indeed understand how you feel.”

She crossed her arms and leant against the wall. She looked at Jaskier with inquiring eyes.

“But you do have the ability to have kids, do you not?”

“I think so,” Jaskier shrugged. He let out a soft sigh. “I've been purposefully avoiding getting pregnant, so I wouldn't know.”

“Fate really is strange, isn't it?” Yennefer smiled faintly. “You've lived your life trying to make sure you wouldn't have a baby, and now you would do anything to change that.”

Jaskier bit his lip. Call it fate, call it weird circumstances or just simply him becoming a bit more mature, Jaskier indeed changed his mind completely. He'd always liked kids, that wasn't the problem, but the idea of having one, himself, sounded terrifying. He could barely take care of himself sometimes, let alone someone else, especially a little fragile life that was entirely dependent on him.

That had been his general line of thinking, but everything changed a couple months ago. Jaskier couldn't quite say what the trigger point was for it all. As strange as it sounded, he really did just wake up one day with the overwhelming need to have a baby. It was as if his body woke up from a decades long slumber, and suddenly started banging pots and pans together.

Jaskier always despised the societal rules that some people applied to the secondary genders, and he always firmly believed that he would never be a stereotypical Omega whose only wish in life was to be a baby machine.

Yet, here he was, with an unsuppressable ache inside him that could only be fulfilled with having a child. His heats had been a bit more irregular lately, maybe his body really started ringing alarm bells to make him see that it was time to make up his mind. Every single time he imagined himself with a baby, he was filled with a painful longing. His stupid, middle-aged self rewrote everything that he used to believe of himself: it was ready for a whole new chapter.

“Do you think you'd be able to raise a kid?” Yennefer continued. “It's one thing giving birth to it.”

“I mean, I hope so?” Jaskier chuckled. “I've learnt a couple things while babysitting Ciri.”

“That's different.”

“I don't know, Yennefer. You also didn't really give that a lot of thought in your own case when you were ready to use djinns and dragon eggs to get pregnant.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow. Jaskier cursed himself.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way.”

To his biggest surprise, Yennefer smiled.

“You're right,” she said softly. “I'm in no position to judge, clearly, but I'm in the position to care about you. And I just want to make sure you know what you would be getting into.”

She fell silent for a while. Jaskier immediately knew the most uncomfortable part of their conversation was about to come.

“Geralt,” Yennefer said, and Jaskier's chest tightened right away.

“How are you two planning this? “

“I don't know,” Jaskier admitted quietly. He fiddled with his fingers, twisting his rings around nervously. “I didn't want to tell him, because I knew it would hurt him… that was exactly what happened. I told him, and he got angry. And sad. Gods, he was so sad, I could see it in his eyes… “

He didn't realize he was tearing up until Yennefer moved closer to hold his hand.

“I should just forget about it, right?” Jaskier asked, blinking away his tears. “Some things are just impossible.”

“You have every right to want things for yourself,” Yennefer told him, squeezing his hand. “You shouldn't feel bad about it.”

“Okay, but we need to face the facts. Geralt is sterile. I can't get myself pregnant. So, I guess giving it up is the most logical choice.”

“It's a complicated situation, for sure,” Yennefer hummed. She sat down next to Jaskier, still holding his hand. “Have you talked about it lately?”

“Not since the big revelation,” Jaskier murmured. None of them brought it up. It was easier to brush it under the rug, like the problem didn't exist, but they both knew ignoring it wouldn't make it go away. They couldn't make it null. Jaskier has already expressed his needs, and he couldn't take his words back. The damage was already done.

Yet, they didn't talk about it. There was an uncomfortable tension in the air between them now, so different from how carefree they could be around each other. Jaskier hated it with all his being.

Geralt's started spending more one on one time with Yennefer since Jaskier told him. Jaskier guessed it was punishment, and he decided he wouldn't sit alone at home feeling sorry for himself, either. He went out more often to comfort himself with bulky men and dainty maidens. All in all, they spent less time together, and the elephant in the room bothered the both of them - but what would talking about it any more even solve?

“Well, you'll have to, eventually,” Yennefer reminded him. “The problem still exists.”

“Yes, but we can't solve it,” Jaskier sighed deeply. “And Geralt is right, what do I even expect from him? I don't even know, myself. I just know that I want to have a child with him.”

Yennefer sighed softly. Jaskier suddenly felt the need to rest his head on her shoulder. She allowed him.

“He asked me why our family doesn't count,” Jaskier recalled Geralt's words with a pang in his chest. “It counts for me. Of course, it does. The same way I care so deeply about Ciri, too, but… she's not my child. She's my little pocket-sized, badass runaway princess niece. Ciri is your child with Geralt. And that's fine with me. But I want a child of my own. Having one wouldn't change anything, I wouldn't care less about any of you!”

“I know that,” Yennefer said, ”it's Geralt that you need to convince about this. I feel like he's so deeply hurt now, that he can't think rationally. He's mad at himself, and this whole situation, and he needs someone to blame.”

“Okay, but to be fair, he has every right to blame me,” Jaskier sighed. “I'm the one who did this to him. I'm the one who told him that I want something he could never give me, I'm the one who accentuated his infertility. Fuck's sake, what was I thinking?”

He leant forward, resting his elbows on his needs. He buried his face in his hands. Yennefer gently caressed his back.

“Do you have like, a reverse spell?” Jaskier murmured into his hands. “So I could take back what I said.”

“No, and even if I did, that still wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't get rid of the longing inside you. I know that, because I've only stopped craving after I've met Ciri. There's no other solution but to try and achieve what you want.”

“What about a spell for getting rid of longings?”

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier let out a shaky breath. Try and achieve what he wanted? How was that even possible? It wasn't just pregnancy that he longed for. If that was the only thing he wanted, he would've had thousands of kids already. But he didn't want to be knocked up by some random person. He wanted it all to be an experience he could share with someone he loved.

And while Jaskier did have a tendency to fall in love with multiple people at the same time, he knew that doing something as serious as raising a child needed to be a well thought-out, conscious decision. Not something he just jumped into, fueled by a quick passion.

Jaskier groaned pathetically. Yennefer ran a comforting hand through his hair, but she probably knew it was all futile. Jaskier got himself in the worst pickle, and no one could tell how to pull him out of it.

–

Jaskier was surprised that Geralt took him with him on his hunt, and he was even more surprised that he didn't go back to spend the night with Yennefer, and instead, booked a room in the tavern for the both of them.

Jaskier followed Geralt carefully like a scared cat, trying to be as quiet and unnoticeable as he could be. He was certain that Geralt was mad at him, and he didn't know how he was supposed to behave. He just appreciated being close to him, even if he knew things would never be the same again.

When they went to bed, Geralt hugged him from behind. He kissed the place where Jaskier's neck met his shoulder. It made Jaskier shiver pleasantly, and his heart leap with hope.

“I missed you,” he found himself whispering. Geralt made a confused sound against his skin.

“I didn't go anywhere.”

“We both know that's not true,” Jaskier sighed. He twisted around to look into Geralt's eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

Geralt let out a deep sigh. His eyes were full of an emotion that Jaskier couldn't comprehend. It looked resigned, but also intensely concerned, somehow.

“No,” he said quietly. “I'm mad at myself.”

“But you're taking it out on me. Not that you don't have every right to do so…”

“I don't know what to do,” Geralt admitted. Now, the pain was obvious in his eyes. Jaskier scrambled to turn around fully. He cupped Geralt's face between his hands. Geralt leant into his touch with a sigh.

“Me neither, love,” Jaskier whispered shakily. He pressed his forehead against Geralt's. “I fucked up everything.”

Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier's waist and pulled him into his lap. As much as Jaskier appreciated the gesture, he didn't fail to notice that Geralt didn't correct him when he said he fucked things up. He bit down on his lip to hold back his tears.

“You got a letter,” Geralt said after some silence. He tapped his fingers against Jaskier's side gently. “From Redania.”

“I would ask if you read it, but I know you did,” Jaskier teased. It made Geralt smile, finally.

“I did. The crown prince celebrates his fortieth birthday soon, and apparently, he's a big Jaskier fan. Not sure why.”

The cheeky glint in his eyes made Jaskier's heart ease up a little.

“Clearly, he has very good taste, then. Alright. So, I assume I'll have to put on a show for the arrogant royal court. Fun.”

“You should go,” Geralt told him with a weak smile, “I think some time apart would do us good.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. He really didn't like the sound of this.

“Is this a breakup?”

“No. It's a way to, maybe, fix things.”

Jaskier sighed. He knew this would absolutely not fix anything, and Geralt was clearly aware of this, too.

But if he returned to a Geralt who didn't look at him with such unbearably deep sadness in his eyes, maybe it would be worth it.

Chapter Text

Jaskier wasn't scared of royalty, he just simply believed he was past the point of his life where he needed to be a courtly troubadour to be famous.

He has left the noble life behind, and honestly, he didn't miss it. Sure, he complained a lot about blisters on his feet as he traveled with Geralt, mourned his old, excessive wardrobe which he couldn't afford anymore, but all in all, he didn't miss the arrogance and condescension that was custom in most royal courts.

He put on his best manners and his most charming smile as he was escorted inside the palace. Alphas and Betas leered at him, while his fellow Omegas watched him with jealousy. Jaskier was used to it. He knew he was very attractive, and he never shied away from flaunting his beauty. He decided to dress a bit more modestly today, but he made sure the cut of his blouse still accentuated his lovely curves.

The Redanian Prince was already waiting for him. Jaskier immediately noted that he was a Beta, and he was quite handsome too. Jaskier bit his lip to stifle a joke about a certain blond prince charming.

He also noticed that he quite shamelessly ogled him. Jaskier chuckled softly under his breath, but he let himself preen under the attention all the same.

“You came,” the Prince greeted him. He flashed Jaskier a bright smile. “What a pleasure.”

“Indeed, Your Highness,” Jaskier replied with a smirk of his own. Flirting a little bit with a handsome man wasn't the worst way to spend his upcoming few days here, he thought.

“I'm Jaskier.”

“I know,” the Prince laughed. Jaskier snorted at himself. Oh, right, he was the one who invited him. Damn, he really needed to pull himself together. He was too lost in his own head lately.

“Radovid of Redania.”

Surprisingly, when Jaskier extended his hand - and then realized halfway through maybe a handshake wasn't the most appropriate way to greet a prince - Radovid took it and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles.

Jaskier found himself blushing, which wasn't an easy feat for anyone to achieve.

“Shouldn't this be the other way around?” He asked lamely. Radovid gave him a grin.

“Usually, yes. But it would be terribly impolite of me to not kiss the hand of a beautiful Omega who has come all the way to me.”

“Ah,” Jaskier laughed softly, “alright, I'll take it.”

Radovid released his hand, his eyes amused.

“You are, of course, welcome to stay as long as you prefer. I had my servants prepare the best room for you.”

“Thank you, really, but I won't be staying for too long,” Jaskier said, “I shall get back to my lover soon.”

Radovid raised an eyebrow. “Lover?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier ducked his head. His lips involuntarily twitched into a smile thinking of Geralt, despite everything that's happened between them lately. “The muse of many of my songs.”

“Ah, the witcher,” Radovid chuckled. “Right. I should have thought. Well, then. Better not make your Alpha wait for you for too long.”

Jaskier hummed. He hoped Geralt was waiting for him at all - after what he told Jaskier about them needing time apart, Jaskier wasn't certain about anything, except for the fact that he still loved Geralt with all his heart.

“Any specific requests for the celebration tonight?” Jaskier asked, changing the subject right away. Radovid gave him a strange look, but didn't press the former topic any further.

“Surprise me,” he told Jaskier, in the company of another smirk. Jaskier found himself at ease the longer he spent around the other man. While he definitely had an air of confident charisma around him, he didn't seem like your typical royalty. He seemed more carefree, with a nice, easy sense of humor. Jaskier found himself intrigued by him.

“Until then,” Radovid continued, “would you like to take a tour inside the palace? You can tell me how the trip was on the way.”

“Sure,” Jaskier found himself replying easily. He chuckled when Radovid offered him his arm.

“This is becoming a little too much, Your Highness.”

“Please, call me Radovid.”

Absolutely surreal, Jaskier thought. All the same, he didn't have it in him to argue, and he did end up taking Radovid's arm.

Maybe performing for someone like Radovid wouldn't even be such a burden after all, and maybe the upcoming few days he was going to spend here didn't look out to be so bleak.

–

The smell of horses always had a calming effect on Geralt. He pressed his forehead against Roach's neck and breathed in her scent. She turned to the side and very gently nudged Geralt with her head. It made him smile.

He missed Jaskier so bad, it felt like someone cut a hole right in his chest, but at the same time, not seeing him around and being constantly reminded of Jaskier's dream he could never make come true did give him some peace of mind.

Geralt knew he never wanted to lose Jaskier, but he couldn't even imagine how their relationship was supposed to continue when his lover had needs that Geralt couldn't take care of. Why would Jaskier even stay with him? What could Geralt even offer?

He heard faint footsteps, and he looked up to see Ciri entering Roach's stall. She gave Geralt a weak smile.

“Hey,” she greeted him softly, “are you okay?”

Geralt hummed. He patted Roach's flank before he tried to give Ciri his most convincing, most confident look.

“Sure.”

Ciri raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips.

“Okay, then I'm going to ask a different question: do you want to talk about the problem?”

“No.”

Ciri scoffed. “That was way too quick.”

“There's not much to talk about, Ciri,” Geralt sighed. “I assume Yennefer told you the details, anyway.”

“She did. But this is about you, so I'm here.”

She stepped closer to Geralt and reached for his hand. Another deep sigh ripped out of Geralt's chest.

“This whole situation isn't your fault,” Ciri said softly. “And not even Jaskier's. You guys are such an amazing couple. Just as great as you and Yennefer. Don't let this stand between you.”

Geralt snorted. While he appreciated Ciri's kindness, she didn't understand the real issue. She was a little too naive, still, with childish hopes that would eventually amount to nothing. She only saw the surface of the problem.

“It's difficult to not let something like this stand between us,” Geralt replied. “Jaskier's asking me to do the impossible.”

“He isn't really asking, though? He just told you what he wants.”

“And by doing that, he made it obvious he has expectations that I cannot live up to.”

Ciri sighed. She squeezed Geralt's hand tighter.

“I think you're the only one who raises expectations against themselves.”

“No matter which way we're looking at it, this isn't gonna help. Jaskier will continue to want a baby, and I will continue to be sterile.”

He looked down at their joint hands and shook his head.

“It feels like this isn't enough for him. Our family. Me.”

“That's not true, and deep down you know that,” Ciri told him. “He loves us. But that doesn't mean he cannot want something else, too. And you are enough.”

She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed Geralt on the cheek. Geralt found himself smiling, at last.

“Please, don't give up on him, or yourself.”

Geralt nodded, but in his heart, he knew he already sort of did.

–

The birthday celebration was a lot more modest than Jaskier imagined it would be. Well, modest maybe wasn't the best word, because it simply meant that there was no fanfare and ballgowns, but there were several suspicious-looking people there whom Jaskier wouldn't want to be associated with, not at the age he was right now.

Clearly, Radovid - while being around Jaskier's age - still needed some time to mature, but Jaskier guessed it was a bit more difficult to do when you lived in wealth and had an endless stream of alcohol, money and whores.

All the same, there was something else beneath the layers of the royal playboy, and Jaskier did want to find out what it was - he saw it in Radovid's eyes as he watched him while Jaskier sang, something deeper, something more profound than simple attraction.

He had interesting questions for Jaskier when he led him through the palace. It seemed like he actually wanted to get to know him. Jaskier noted that he was deeply intelligent, and a really good conversation partner in general.

He continued to be inquiring, asking so much and saying so much with his eyes as Jaskier sang to him. It filled Jaskier with a sense of warmth.

When he finished his performance, Radovid, instead of staying with the pretty boys who sat all over him, went straight after Jaskier.

“You were incredible,” he told him earnestly. Jaskier smiled.

“Thank you. And happy birthday, again.”

“I like having you around here,” Radovid continued, with an almost shy smile. He stepped a little closer to Jaskier. “You're different. It intrigues me.”

“Are you asking me to marry you already?” Jaskier teased. Radovid laughed softly.

“Not just yet. But I would love it if you stayed a little longer than just a few days.”

Jaskier bit his lip. Radovid looked at him so eagerly. And truth be told, Jaskier did enjoy his company, too.

But his heart still ached after Geralt. He didn't want to be apart from him for too long, even if they weren't on the best terms right now.

Though, they weren't even fighting. Jaskier would have preferred an angry screaming match over whatever it was they were dealing with. They were both hurt, but none of them were at fault, and none of them knew how to solve the issue. Jaskier had no idea what the right decision would be in this situation.

After all, Geralt did suggest some time apart would help at least some of the scars heal, but Jaskier still wasn't completely sure that was true.

“I don't know,” he said, as honest as he could be. “I'd love to, but…”

“Your mate,” Radovid finished it for him. “Of course.”

There was a strange, forlorn look in his eyes.

“It would be really nice to belong to someone, you know.”

“Never had a mate?”

“Never.”

“It's nice to have one, for sure. But it also comes with a lot of conflicts,” Jaskier added with a bitter little chuckle. Radovid gently touched his arm.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” Jaskier replied. He smiled up at Radovid. The prince gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Chapter Text

One of the things Geralt loved the most about Jaskier was his scent. That was the first thing he's always noticed whenever they reunited, catching a whiff of his sweet cinnamon even before he could see Jaskier running towards him excitedly. That was the thing that he started missing first after they had to part, that comforting, soft scent that mixed with his own. He would often clutch one of Jaskier's shirts close to himself when he went to bed, so he could pretend Jaskier was near.

He did exactly this after Jaskier left for the Redanian celebration. He slept with one of Jaskier's chemises hugged to his chest, its scent and its warmth comforting him through Jaskier's absence, somewhat.

But only somewhat, because nothing could compare to the real thing, to the feeling of Jaskier in the flesh, his very real, warm body in Geralt's arms, his heartbeat thudding a steady, happy rhythm against Geralt's own. Geralt buried his nose in the crook of Jaskier's neck, breathing in his scent deeply. He lingered over his bondmark. Jaskier shivered as Geralt's breath ghosted over the faint scar.

“Oh, I missed you too, dear,” Jaskier laughed warmly. He caressed Geralt's back with one hand, and carded through his hair with the other gently. “How did they let you in?”

“I told them I'm with you.”

Geralt hated royalty, and their overly flashy palaces that overflowed with gold while the people outside were starving to death. The only reason he stepped foot inside the Redanian castle was because he needed to see Jaskier, who stayed a little longer than just a few days. He sent Geralt a letter where he told him he would like to stay one more week, if that was fine with him.

It was fine with Geralt, because anything that made Jaskier happy was fine with him. But that didn't mean he didn't miss him like crazy, even if he was the one who suggested some time apart would do them good.

“Geralt,” Jaskier started softly, carefully, as he reached for his lover's hand. “I want to tell you something.”

Geralt nodded. He made sure his face didn't show how terrified these words suddenly made him feel.

“Alright.”

“I think I love Radovid,” Jaskier said softly. He bit his lip, and peered up at Geralt from under his lashes. “Is that okay with you?”

“Of course. You know I don't own you.”

After they bonded with each other, they talked a lot about how Jaskier's liaisons shall continue. Jaskier has always been a free spirit, and Geralt didn't want to deny him the joy of what sharing his heart with other people meant to him. He knew that even though Jaskier was capable of falling in love very often and with many people, Jaskier would always return to him in the end, no matter what. Geralt didn't own him, but he and Jaskier belonged together. Jaskier having feelings for someone else on the side wouldn't change that, it never had before.

Jaskier's heart was big enough to fit two people at the same time, and that was not something Geralt would get upset about.

He had an underlying, bad feeling, though, one that he couldn't explain. It wasn't exactly jealousy, more like an inexplicable worry that somehow, these feelings that Jaskier has apparently developed for the prince, may change something.

“Is he good to you?” Geralt asked. Jaskier smiled.

“Very. He's kind, and treats me well. Spoils me, even.”

“Now I know why you like him,” Geralt teased softly. “Do you want to stay with him? Permanently, I mean.”

“No,” Jaskier replied right away. “I mean, I would love to stay with him for a little longer, but I also want to be with you.”

“You can't be at two places at the same time, Jaskier.”

Jaskier bit his lip and ducked his head. He seemed to be contemplating what Geralt said.

“I'm sure we can sort it out,” was what he eventually said, in the company of a small smile. “He knows about you and me, and he's fine with it, too.”

“Actually, you're gonna need to stay longer. Not permanently if that's not what you want, but a lot longer,” Geralt replied, making Jaskier raise a confused eyebrow.

“Why? Is it because of the…”

He clearly struggled to find the right word for the situation between them. Geralt couldn't quite describe it himself. He kind of hoped Jaskier wouldn't bring it up, but that was obviously just wishful thinking. The elephant in the room wasn't that easy to ignore.

“No,” Geralt promised. He squeezed Jaskier's hands tighter. “I need to go away for a bit. I have a contract that might take me months to finish.”

“Months?” Jaskier breathed. He went wide-eyed, and a little pale. “That's a really long time, Geralt. Let me go with you.”

“No. It's too dangerous.”

Jaskier scoffed. “Please, remind me when that has ever stopped me before.”

“Jaskier. I'm asking you to stay put and not to come with me.”

“Yeah, that also doesn't really work.”

Geralt reached up and cupped his cheek. Jaskier let out a soft sigh as he leant into his touch.

“It's gonna be okay,” Geralt promised, “I'll come back for you. You're safe here. Yennefer and Ciri are going to Aretuza soon. You'd be all alone otherwise.”

“Just this one week was so hard without you,” Jaskier whispered, “how am I supposed to wait months?”

“You have Radovid,” Geralt reminded him. “If he's really so kind as you say, you'll be in good hands.”

“But I want you too,” Jaskier replied, pouting like a child. It made Geralt laugh.

“Don't be greedy.”

Softer, he added: “I also missed you a lot, Jaskier. But sometimes we need to do things we hate to make things right.”

“Did this make anything right?” Jaskier asked, more himself than Geralt. Geralt swallowed. He wished he could have an exact answer to this.

“We'll see. It's gonna be hard for the both of us. And then…”

“We'll see,” Jaskier finished it for him, as this was pretty much the only conclusion they could draw. There was no way to say anything would change for the better, or the worse between them if they spent even more time apart.

And there was still that weird feeling itching at the back of Geralt's mind, the one he couldn't explain nor shake off.

He decided to try and not think about it any longer. Instead, he gently hooked a finger under Jaskier's chin and lifted his face. Jaskier's eyes lit up and he leant in to close the distance between them.

Jaskier's arms went around Geralt's waist, pulling him closer as they kissed, their lips needily merged together. Geralt felt the way Jaskier panted into his mouth, and his own breathing picked up in turn. He squeezed at Jaskier's hip, making him press himself against Geralt hotly.

“I know a corner,” Jaskier husked as he pulled away, his cheeks flushed rosy red, “where no one can see us.”

“You've explored it with Radovid,” Geralt noted. Jaskier only sent him a small, cheeky smile in response.

Geralt let Jaskier lead him through the palace by the hand, and let himself be dragged into an indeed secluded area. There, Jaskier pushed him against the wall and slipped his hand down Geralt's pants. Geralt growled as Jaskier took a hold of his length and started stroking it. He wound an arm around Jaskier and pulled him closer, closing his eyes as Jaskier stroked him with expert movements.

Jaskier let out a soft gasp when Geralt suddenly pushed his hand away and grabbed him. Geralt turned them around and pressed Jaskier against the wall. With quick movements, he took off Jaskier's trousers and his undergarments, then dropped to his knees before him.

“Geralt,” Jaskier moaned as Geralt licked into him. He's missed the taste of him, too, his heady sweetness down there, the delirious heat against his mouth.

It only took a couple of moments for Jaskier to start whining and pushing at Geralt's head. Geralt took pity on him and stood up, then grabbed Jaskier by the back of his thighs and lifted him against the wall.

They made love right there, with Jaskier clinging to Geralt, whispering his name like a prayer against Geralt's neck. Geralt buried his own face in Jaskier's hair. His body trembled with pleasure and with emotions so intense, he didn't know how to keep them in line. He didn't want to let go of Jaskier for a second, but he desperately wanted to forget about everything they've talked about lately. Jaskier was both the best thing in his life, and the most painful reminder of his own, biggest failure.

Jaskier clawed at his back and sobbed, and Geralt bit down on his own lip until he could feel the taste of blood in his mouth. There was an uncomfortable, painful tension in the both of them, a reminder that everything will stay painfully the same, but would also change drastically the moment Geralt leaves the castle.

They would continue to be their flawed selves, but would become completely new people. Geralt was terrified of what the future would hold for them, and he could tell Jaskier was, too.

They came at the same time, collapsing against one another. Geralt's arms trembled as he lowered Jaskier to stand on the floor. Jaskier buckled, falling into Geralt's arms like a ragdoll.

Geralt didn't know how long they stood there, breathing heavily in each other's arms, neither of them daring to say goodbye first.

Chapter Text

There wasn't a single second where Jaskier wasn't worried about Geralt, and didn't wonder if he was alright during his dangerous quest. It's been two weeks since they've parted, and Jaskier couldn't stop thinking about their last moments together. Something heavy lingered around them as they said their goodbyes, a thick fog that threatened with a storm to come. They didn't get to talk about the issue with all capital letters, and Jaskier was left in complete uncertainty over whether he and Geralt could continue to function together like they used to.

Radovid was very patient with him. Jaskier could tell he didn't exactly feel happy about his lover constantly fretting over another man, but he understood that the bond between Jaskier and Geralt wasn't one to vanish just because Jaskier fell in love with someone else. He accepted that Geralt was an important part of Jaskier's life, and even though he would have definitely preferred if Jaskier gave him all his attention, he never said one bad word about it.

Jaskier trusted him, but he still couldn't tell him about the conflict between him and Geralt. That was such a heavy, uncomfortable topic, that he didn't feel like bringing it up, not even to Radovid. It was enough for him to see Jaskier being constantly anxious over whether Geralt was okay, Jaskier didn't want to burden him with his other problem.

Radovid announced that his cousin was coming to Redania for a quick visit, and he wanted to introduce Jaskier to her. Jaskier decided to put on a happy smile and pretend that everything was alright, lest he ruined the family gathering.

“I hope she won't hate me like Vizimir does,” he joked to Radovid. The prince laughed softly.

“He doesn't hate you,” he told him, “he just worries you're making me lose my mind.”

“Oh? Is it true?” Jaskier grinned. He sat up in the bed gingerly, letting the sheet slip off his shoulder for extra measure. He didn't miss the way Radovid's eyes immediately drifted to his bare skin.

“Yes,” he drawled, shamelessly raking his eyes over Jaskier's body. “I'm crazy about you.”

Jaskier smirked and blew him a kiss. Thank the gods he had Radovid. Without him, he wouldn't have been able to survive Geralt's absence. Not because he was a stand-in - Jaskier loved them both equally. His aching heart felt a bit more complete with Radovid there.

He enjoyed the way Radovid so freely held his hand when they greeted his and Vizimir's cousin, not hiding the fact they were together anymore. Jaskier was aware not everyone approved of their relationship - Vizimir certainly didn't -, but Radovid didn't seem to care, and that warmed Jaskier's heart.

Radovid's cousin Lorette was a lovely young lady who spread so much kindness, and seemingly immediately had a great fondness for Jaskier.

“So, you're Jaskier,” she greeted him with a smile. “Radovid kept raving about you in his letters.”

“Can you blame me?” Radovid smiled at Jaskier, and wound an arm around his waist. “I'm the luckiest man in the world to have him.”

“Aw, stop,” Jaskier chuckled, gently elbowing him in the side. Lorette gave them a bright smile.

“I brought Oscar with me, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, I haven't even seen him yet,” Radovid replied with a smile. Jaskier raised an eyebrow.

“Oscar?”

“My baby,” Lorette clarified. She waved one of her maidens over who held a small bundle. Lorette took the baby into her arms and pulled back his blanket to show his face.

“There he is.”

Jaskier couldn't help but let out a coo when the tiny head came into view. He was so adorable with his chubby cheeks, his snubby little nose and those tiny, tiny hands. Lorette caressed a finger down the baby's face, smiling brightly.

“He's adorable,” Jaskier smiled, leaning just a little closer. “Beautiful little boy.”

“He's so small,” Radovid added, peering over Jaskier's shoulder. Lorette laughed.

“Yes, babies tend to be small. Would you like to hold him?”

Something warm flared up in Jaskier's chest at the idea. He found himself nodding instinctively, suddenly feeling the overwhelming need to hold that adorable thing in his arms.

Lorette handed Oscar to him. He was really so small, light as a feather in his hands. He made a tiny noise, an adorable little sniffing sound, before he settled into Jaskier's arms like he's always belonged there. Jaskier's heart fluttered like a bird trying to break out of its cage.

“Well, hello there,” he cooed to the baby. His cheeks ached with a smile that spread on his face. “Oh, you're the cutest thing ever.”

“He likes you,” Lorette said softly. “You're a real natural with babies, I see. Do you have one of your own, perhaps?”

“No,” Jaskier's smile immediately slipped. The warmth in his chest was replaced with that now familiar ache. The baby moved, his tiny hand touched Jaskier's chest. His chubby fingers fisted in his blouse. Jaskier had to blink back tears suddenly.

“You look good together,” Radovid noted, and the warmth in his voice only made Jaskier feel worse.

“Ah, I should probably hand him back,” he chuckled awkwardly. He tried to give Oscar back to Lorette, but he woke up and started whimpering. He still held onto Jaskier's shirt.

“Oh, that's rude,” Lorette laughed, “seems like he likes you more than me.”

“Little one,” Jaskier told him softly, “you need to go back to your mama, okay?”

He gently pried Oscar's fingers off his blouse. The movement pained him, and so did the sudden emptiness of his arms once Lorette took her child back.

“I shall say hello to Vizimir now,” she said. Oscar settled into her arms, but his big eyes were fixated on Jaskier. Jaskier swallowed thickly.

“Are you alright?” Radovid asked once Lorette was out of sight. Jaskier nodded numbly.

“Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

–

That night, while he and Radovid made love, a sudden, uncomfortable flash of warmth filled his body. Jaskier whined, the pleasure dissipating right away to give place to discomfort.

He broke out in a cold sweat and started trembling. His stomach cramped, and a sudden wave of nausea hit him. Jaskier immediately knew what it was, but it didn't make any sense - and Radovid noticed right away, his eyes widening in shock as he pulled back.

“How is this possible?” he asked, caressing Jaskier's flushed, sweaty face. “Your last heat just passed days ago.”

“I don't know,” Jaskier whined, curling in on himself. He felt like crawling out of his skin. “I'm old, and it's so irregular, I don't know, I fucking hate it, okay!?”

He realized his voice turned hysterical. He bit his lip in embarrassment.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, “I don't know what's going on.”

“I'll get you some medicine for your stomach, okay?” Radovid told him. He gently brushed his nose against Jaskier's. “I've got you.”

Jaskier could only groan in response. The bed was suddenly so cold, so empty all alone once Radovid left. He curled into a small ball, knees pressed to his chest. He didn't know why he suddenly went into heat again, why his body started screaming at him, demanding, unsatisfied. Jaskier wished it would finally stop craving.

He buried his face into his pillow and started crying.

–

“Why are you wandering around the castle in the dark?”

Radovid cursed and pressed a hand over his chest. He strained his eyes to see his brother staring at him, amused.

“Why are you? You nearly caused me a heart attack.”

“He's in heat again?” Vizimir scoffed after sniffing the air. “What kind of Omega goes into heat this often?”

“Leave him alone,” Radovid shot back. “I don't understand what your problem is with him.”

“I'm worried about you,” Vizimir said, his voice turning softer. “That you're blinded by your love for him.”

“What do you mean?”

Vizimir sighed and shook his head. “Come on, like you don't know. You do realize he is mated to an Alpha.”

Something uncomfortable stirred in Radovid's chest - an acidic, hateful envy that he tried to push down every day. That bitter, mocking little voice in his head that kept telling him he was just surrogating for someone else's love, was deafeningly loud again.

“I don't get your point,” he lied. Vizimir shook his head again.

“Jaskier is head over heels for the witcher. You think he's not going to fall straight back into his arms and away from you the second he comes back?”

“He loves me,” Radovid said, trying his best to keep his voice even. “He loves both of us.”

“You think that's possible?”

“Why are you being so mean?”

“I'm not being mean. I'm trying to help you. He's in your bedroom, withering away with his heat, and he needs an Alpha, not a Beta. You'll never be able to give him what he needs. You'll never be Geralt.”

Radovid nearly shattered the glass in his hand. He was suddenly filled with so much rage, so much sorrow, that he didn't know how to contain it all. He turned around on his heels and stormed away from Vizimir, from the painful reminder that indeed, he wasn't enough. He would never be enough for Jaskier.

He swallowed his tears with great effort and slinked back to his chamber, to take care of someone else's Omega.

Chapter Text

After three months of relentless fighting, Geralt finally fulfilled his contract and managed to get rid of the monsters that plagued several towns at once. It has proven to be one of the hardest jobs of his life, and he couldn't wait to see Jaskier again, to grab him and wrap him up in his arms.

The people at the Redanian court all looked at him strangely, but Geralt was used to this after his last visit. Not many people were fond of witchers in general, and posh royals certainly weren't. They also knew right well who he was, that he was the mate of the bard that the crown prince was currently dating - a situation that seemed to be frowned upon by many.

Geralt wasn't exactly thrilled by the situation, either. That strange sense of doom that hit him when he's last seen Jaskier, the one that threatened him with terrible outcomes still didn't leave his mind. He still had that underlying fear that Jaskier's relationship with Radovid would change something irreversibly.

Besides, there was still the main issue, of course. There were moments where Geralt naively hoped that maybe during those three months that they've spent apart, Jaskier somehow forgot about his certain needs, but of course, that was highly unlikely.

He decided to at least try and put those worries aside as he walked to the back garden, where Jaskier was supposedly waiting for him.

He saw him sitting at the edge of the fountain, with his back to him, but Geralt still recognized him by the way his hair shone in the sunlight, the way he idly drew patterns onto the surface of the water with his fingertips.

Geralt could smell him, too, even over the scent of the flowers in the garden - that oh so familiar, sweet scent of his that he loved so much. A scent, that was now mixed together with something else that Geralt didn't recognize. He stopped, twisting his nose. It was possibly Radovid's scent that mixed with Jaskier's. He bit down on his lip to stifle a growl of instinctive possessiveness. He could smell something else as well, but he couldn't tell what it was just yet.

Jaskier turned his head. His eyes brightened when he spotted Geralt, and the most beautiful smile spread on his face. Geralt immediately returned it as he continued his path to his mate, ready to welcome him in his arms again.

Jaskier stood up and turned fully towards Geralt - and Geralt's heart seized up inside his chest. He stopped again, but this time, he was sure he wouldn't move again.

The slight swell of Jaskier's belly was barely noticeable, mostly concealed by his pale yellow blouse that flew over his torso loosely, but Geralt saw it all the same. He stared at it, unable to breathe. White noise filled his head.

“Geralt,” Jaskier spoke to him softly. He clearly realized Geralt's predicament, because his smile slipped, and he nervously placed a hand over his stomach - and yes, there was no mistaking the gentleness he held that tiny bump with, no way to think it was just bloating or weight gain. It was exactly what Geralt thought it was.

“Dear heart, it's so good to see you again,” Jaskier continued, quietly, carefully. He approached Geralt slowly. Geralt still couldn't move.

“Can I…” Jaskier seemed to be struggling with finding the words, which was unusual for the poet. “I really want to hug you, but you don't look like you want it.”

“Why didn't you tell me,” Geralt blurted it out. He hated the way his voice shook, how his eyes couldn't leave Jaskier's belly. Jaskier bit his lip.

“This isn't really a letter-topic, you see…”

“You waited until I came back for you. To rub it in my face.”

Jaskier gasped. He shook his head vehemently. He opened his mouth and closed it again. The hand that rested on the gentle curve of his stomach, trembled.

“Geralt, no,” he eventually said, his voice weak, “I just didn't want to tell you over a piece of paper… “

He sighed softly as he carefully peered up at Geralt from under his lashes.

“I know this is a bit difficult,” he admitted, “but we'll manage, won't we? We always do.”

His voice sounded terribly uncertain, like he couldn't convince even himself. Geralt's stomach lurched.

“What now?” he huffed. The idea of holding Jaskier, the thing he craved so badly, seemed less and less appealing. “What do you want, what…”

He couldn't finish his sentence. Anger, pain, humiliation swirled inside him all at once, threatening to burst through his chest.

“A family,” Jaskier whispered. Geralt hated the way his voice trembled, hated seeing the tears in his eyes. He hated his Alpha instincts that screamed at him to protect and take care of the pregnant Omega in front of him. He hated the way his treacherous body ached with the need to provide for a baby that wasn't his, a baby that grew inside a person who probably no longer needed him.

“And I mean… as strange as the whole situation is, it's something that we can work on, right? We survived so many things together, and having a baby won't be…”

“Stop talking like we're having this baby together,” the words ripped out of Geralt before he managed to stop himself. Jaskier stared at him with those big eyes of his, his chin wobbling as he tried to stop himself from crying.

“But…”

“That's not my child. That's Radovid's.”

“It's ours,” Jaskier said. He tried to reach for Geralt's hand. Geralt pulled it away. “Geralt, this baby is all of ours…”

Geralt snorted. “As if it's possible.”

“I don't mean… Geralt… a child doesn't have to be related to you by blood to consider them your child. Just think about Ciri… “

Geralt couldn't suppress his growl. Jaskier swallowed audibly.

“Don't you dare,” Geralt snarled, “don't you dare compare Ciri to this.”

The tears were now freely falling from Jaskier's eyes. Geralt's own eyes burned with his own tears.

“You said you're okay with me and Radovid,” Jaskier tried weakly. “Why are you…”

“It's my fault then, isn't it? I let you see someone else and you got knocked up. I'm a terrible mate, aren't I? Because I didn't keep you on a tight leash like those possessive asshole Alphas?”

“That's not what…”

“You got what you wanted, didn't you?” Geralt squeezed his teeth together, but he still couldn't mask the way his voice shook, nor could he hide the tears that streamed down his face.

“I was good enough for twenty-four years when you didn't feel like birthing babies, but now that you suddenly do, now that suddenly all you care about is getting pregnant, I'm thrown aside like a piece of paper. Now, the wonderful Radovid is here to take over my place, I mean, what could I offer that he doesn't have?”

He gestured at the palace around him with disgust, ignoring Jaskier's silent pleas to stop.

“This is what you need, isn't it? I thought you were different, but clearly, I didn't know you well enough. Now, you have a whole palace and a man that can get you pregnant as many times as you please.”

“Geralt, stop it!” Jaskier was louder now. He cried miserably as he protectively held his stomach. “I'm not throwing you aside, that's what I'm trying to tell you! I love you, you are my mate, and you're always going to be! I understand why you're angry, okay? But I wouldn't want to exchange what we have for anything…”

“You already have,” Geralt replied. “You already replaced me.”

“Geralt, please, you don't even hear what I'm saying! I love both of you, and the fact that Radovid got me pregnant won't change anything!”

“It will change everything, and you know that, too.”

“Gods,” Jaskier ran a frustrated hand through his hair, inhaling through his nose sharply. “I wish you stopped playing the victim for just one second. It's like you don't even try to imagine how anyone else other than you would feel in this situation!”

“You're obviously feeling fine,” Geralt pointed out. Because Jaskier was glowing. He was beautiful with happiness, the joy that he has finally achieved, thanks to Radovid. How could Geralt compete with that? He couldn't cause Jaskier such happiness. He couldn't paint his cheeks rosy red with the hormones of his condition, couldn't put that light in his eyes. Jaskier was finally thriving, and none of it was Geralt's merit. Geralt failed as an Alpha, as a mate, as Jaskier's mate, specifically. Radovid just waltzed in and took it all away, simply because his body wasn't damaged like Geralt's. What did it matter that he was a Beta, that he wasn't mated to Jaskier, that he only knew the surface of the man that Geralt has loved for decades?

He only needed to fulfill one very simple act, and with that, he sealed all of their fates.

Jaskier cried something else, but Geralt barely heard it. His ears rang. He needed to get away from here, from Jaskier, from Radovid, from that baby, from the mockery they all made of him. All those years of loving Jaskier didn't matter anymore, they were buried under the rubble on which Jaskier and Radovid tied themselves together.

And maybe that was just right. If an Alpha couldn't give their Omega what they needed, if they couldn't take care of them well, it made perfect sense they needed to be discarded. If Geralt was broken, he needed to be removed to not disturb those that were still whole.

He turned around and walked away, leaving half of his heart behind himself.

Chapter Text

You got what you wanted, didn't you?

The words echoed in Radovid's head as he stormed back inside the palace. His chest felt tight, as if his lungs couldn't fill with enough air. He wanted to punch the walls around him, tear down everything. He had never been filled with this much painful anger before.

Could it have been, that Jaskier planned this all along? That the reason he came here was to fulfill the wish Geralt couldn't?

Radovid was aware that witchers were sterile. That was a well-known fact. He also saw the constant pain lingering around Jaskier like a heavy cloud whenever he talked about his relationship with Geralt, and a certain thing that caused conflict between them lately, though he never actually explained what that was. Radovid - while his nose wasn't as sharp as an Alpha's - still caught the whiff of longing rolling off of Jaskier in waves when he held baby Oscar in his arms.

And then he got pregnant, and he was over the moon with happiness. So was Radovid, of course, he could have exploded with joy when the healer confirmed it for them. It happened very fast, and sure, Radovid was terrified of whether he would be a good father, but he loved Jaskier so much, and this baby was a testament of their love.

Or so he thought, until he eavesdropped on Jaskier and Geralt's conversation. It all started to make sense then. That was the conflict. That Jaskier wanted a child, and Geralt couldn't give that to him, due to the forced limitations of his body.

And now, Jaskier got what he wanted. A baby. Something he craved, but couldn't get. It was suddenly very difficult for Radovid to imagine that Jaskier didn't have that intention in his mind when he slept with him.

He slumped in his armchair in his chambers, holding the bottle of liquor to his lips with trembling hands. He blinked against the tears in his eyes. Vizimir was right after all. He was too far gone for Jaskier to see the truth. That Jaskier only loved Geralt, and Radovid was just a means to an end.

The urge to comfort the sniffling, red-eyed Jaskier who walked through the door was blurred by the alcohol and sheer anger. Radovid glared at him.

“Did he leave?” he spat, unable to control the ire in his voice. Jaskier seemed taken aback, but he nodded all the same, wiping his eyes.

“Yes.”

Radovid hummed. He tapped his fingers against the bottle.

“So, I assume your plan backfired, then?”

Jaskier made a confused sound. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leant against the wall, frowning.

“What?”

Radovid scoffed. “Oh, come on. Might as well confess now.”

“Radovid…?”

“I heard you!” Radovid snapped. He put the bottle down with a slam, causing Jaskier to flinch. “With your mate. Seems like he wasn't too happy about what you've done, either.”

“What I've done?”

Radovid rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wanted to scream at Jaskier, but he no longer felt like he was able to. He just wanted to break down sobbing.

“I took it all,” he started, hating the way his voice trembled, “I accepted you're mated to Geralt. That you love him. I wanted you all for myself, but I knew I cannot break you two apart. So, I bore it. Held you while you were whining after another man. While you were… crying for your Alpha. I let it happen, because I love you so much, and I never said a word, did I? But this? This is too much, even for me.”

Jaskier just stared at him in utter confusion. He opened his mouth, those pretty pink lips of his, and Radovid wanted to bang his head against the wall, because he could barely be angry at him, even right now.

“Radovid, I don't understand,” he said quietly. Radovid shut his eyes, stopping the tears just in time before they streamed down his face.

“You used me to get pregnant.”

There was dead silence for a moment. Jaskier's face went pale. Then he shook his head vehemently, clutching a hand over his chest.

“No! No, sweet Melitele, how can you even assume that!?”

His voice sounded honest, but Radovid didn't know what to believe anymore.

“Geralt can't make children. He's a witcher. But you want children. It's… terrifyingly simple, now that I think about it.”

“Radovid,” Jaskier groaned. He approached him slowly, until he stood in front of his armchair. Radovid's hands itched with the need to touch the light curve of his belly, where his child rested, but he controlled himself.

After all, was it really his child?

“I wasn't planning this,” Jaskier explained softly. “It just happened, okay? We weren't careful. It happens.”

“Kind of a strange coincidence.”

“Fuck's sake!” Jaskier threw his hands up in frustration. “What is it with the men I'm in love with, and their incapability to listen to me!? Yes, it is a coincidence! What, you think I only slept with you, so I could… is this the kind of person you believe me to be like?”

The sheer hurt in his voice made Radovid falter in his anger. He looked up to see the sad frown on Jaskier's face.

“I should have told you about the conflict between Geralt and I. I'm sorry, that I didn't do that. You deserved to know. I was just in so much pain, and I didn't want to talk about it, but now I know I should have. The want in me, the want for having children didn't go away, of course, but I did try to shove it down.”

He reached for Radovid's hands, and led them to his stomach. Radovid sighed deeply. Of course, he couldn't fight him. The Omega really had power over him.

“I wasn't even sure if I could get pregnant, I mean, I'm not a spring chicken. It is a strange, but beautiful twist of fate, that it happened. And that it happened with someone I love.”

He gave Radovid a small smile. “And I love Geralt, too. He is my mate, like you said, but I consider you one, too. And this baby is all of ours. It's a part of you, and Geralt, and me. I know we can make it work. I know we can.”

What a beautiful fairytale he painted, Radovid mused. A fine poet, indeed. Spewing the beautiful sonnets of their lives where they could all live happily ever after.

Except, reality was different. Reality was that biologically, only he and Jaskier were involved in making that baby, and therefore, Geralt should have no right to claim their child, regardless of his relationship to Jaskier. Reality was that Jaskier's neck was only scarred by Geralt's mating bite, and thus, he belonged to him, not to Radovid.

Reality was that Geralt was a big, strong Alpha with his muscles and his musk, who killed monsters on a daily basis, who hunted dinner with his bare hands. He was the provider, the protector, the one who knotted and claimed and took care of Jaskier exactly like how an Omega needed.

Radovid was just a Beta. He wasn't frail, but he was much more lithe in frame than Geralt was, a lot more bony. His scent was forgettable citrusy, and he couldn't do well in combat. He couldn't protect himself, let alone anyone else. He was a wealthy prince who never had to learn how to take care of anyone else, and it wasn't ingrained into his genes, either. He couldn't keep up with Jaskier's heats the way he truly needed.

Of course, that Jaskier would rather pick Geralt. He was genetically Geralt's counterpart, he was designed to belong to him. The only thing missing was his fertility, and that was also the only thing Radovid was good for.

Reality wasn't beautiful. They couldn't make this work.

With great, painful effort, Radovid pulled his hand away from Jaskier's belly, and he turned his head away.

“I won't play second fiddle,” he said, not even looking at Jaskier. “Go after Geralt. You need him more than me.”

“Radovid…”

“But only after you've given birth. And you leave my child with me. Give me that, at least, if Geralt has everything else.”

He snorted, ignoring whatever Jaskier was trying to say.

“Or, you know what? I bet the Alpha would be a better father, anyway. Take it with you. I have fulfilled my purpose, after all. You never intended to raise the child with me. You just wanted someone to knock you up, since your knight in shining armor can't.”

“Fuck off,” Jaskier whispered - not yelled, not sobbed, just quietly wept, with so much pain in his voice it was unbearable. Yet, Radovid stood his ground and didn't look at him.

Only after Jaskier slammed the door behind him, did Radovid allow himself to break down crying.

Chapter Text

“You need to eat something.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“Are you telling me you haven't been hungry for five days?”

Geralt scoffed and rolled onto his side, away from Yennefer. Constant nagging was exactly the last thing he needed right now. He just needed to disappear, preferably quickly.

He wasn't sure when was the last time he felt so utterly miserable. Possibly after he chased Jaskier away on the mountain. When he blew up all over him, blaming him for everything wrong that happened in his life, even though he was actually angry with himself.

Strangely, fate seemed to repeat itself. Once again, Geralt was extremely harsh to Jaskier, even though deep down he knew Jaskier didn't deserve it. After all, it wasn't as if Jaskier pointed his finger at Geralt and laughed at his misery. It was clear he felt bad. But Geralt was so angry, so blinded by pain that in that moment, he couldn't comprehend it. All he saw was his own failure, and Jaskier, with his growing belly was the living testament of Geralt's brokenness.

He wasn't sure what to do now. He felt like crawling out of his own skin. He wanted to apologize to Jaskier but dreaded seeing him again. He wanted to continue wallowing in self-pity, but it was starting to consume him.

He tried to find some comfort with Yennefer, but he didn't want to make her feel like she was substituting something, even though unfortunately, right now, she was. Because Geralt loved her, but in that moment, it was actually Jaskier whom he longed for. Yennefer was aware of that and made it clear that she was going to be there for Geralt as a friend, but nothing more. Geralt hated himself for being selfish and hurting one more person he loved, but he just couldn't stop himself. He was going downhill and the ground was too far away.

He grunted when Yennefer returned with a plate of bread, cheese and some meat. There was no room for argument in Yennefer's eyes and movements as she stood above him with the plate.

“Eat.”

Geralt eyed the plate in Yennefer's hands. He knew she wouldn't leave him alone otherwise. He took one piece of cheese begrudgingly and shoved it into his mouth.

“You need to talk to Jaskier again,” Yennefer said after she deemed the amount of food Geralt forced down his throat enough. She sat next to him, eyes inquiring.

“You need to apologize to him. You do realize he's not hurting you on purpose, right?”

“We can't be in a relationship anymore,” Geralt replied, eyes glued to the ground. “He's having a child with someone else. I'm no longer enough for him.”

“When did he say that?”

“He didn't need to.”

“No, actually, you're reading way too much into this, Geralt. Jaskier is head over heels for you. He has loved you for almost half of his life, do you seriously think he would stop wanting you over this?”

“You say over ‘this’ as if it's just a minor disagreement,” Geralt scoffed. “The ‘this’ you're talking about is a baby. A baby which he has wanted for months, and now, he finally has it. His dream came true. I wasn't a part of it.”

“Because you couldn't be,” Yennefer said. She was honest, as always. After all, she was just like Geralt in a way. She was exactly the last person who would sugarcoat the topic of infertility.

“Jaskier knows exactly, that you're sterile. He never had any illusions about it. Same way he never asked you to try and find a cure or something. He accepted it. Don't you think that if that was a deal-breaker for him, he would have left you once he started developing baby fever? I can't believe I'm saying this about the little shit, but I think he has matured enough to be able to realize what's good for him on the long run.”

Geralt stared ahead, mulling Yennefer's words over in his head. A rational part of him knew that she was right, that Jaskier wouldn't want to hurt anyone, especially Geralt, on purpose.

What Yennefer said about Jaskier knowing what's good for him was true, but Geralt wondered if that part would have ever won over Jaskier's desire to protect everyone else's feelings. He always sacrificed so much, bore so much shit from other people, just to make his loved ones happy. What if he wanted to leave, what if he was actually unhappy with their relationship and the lack of chance for a baby together, but he didn't want to break Geralt's heart by leaving him? What if he thought that silently slipping out of Geralt's life by choosing someone else and creating a family with them was the merciful way of breaking up with Geralt?

What if Jaskier, unable to make such a painful decision, wanted to give Geralt the choice to call it off?

“That sounds a bit dramatic.”

Geralt raised his eyebrow at Yennefer who glared at him, with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Geralt sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Stop reading my thoughts.”

“Well, you're not using your words.”

Yennefer's eyes softened as she stepped closer to Geralt. She gently took his jaw into her hand and lifted his face. Geralt leant into her touch.

“I'm not letting you fuck up your relationship with Jaskier,” Yennefer said calmly. “You two survived way too much shit together.”

“You're too optimistic if you think we can survive this one.”

“Geralt, I love you, but you're acting like a child right now,” Yennefer shook her head. “You don't hear anyone else. Just your own misery.”

“How would you have felt, if back then, when you told me how much you wanted to have a child, I would've gone and knocked up some other woman? If I had the ability to do that. How would you have felt?”

Yennefer was silent. She played with Geralt's hair quietly, her fingertips occasionally tracing his cheeks.

“I would have felt a bit like you're rubbing it in my face,” Yennefer admitted. “And I would have cursed you to hell.”

Geralt opened his mouth, but before he got to speak, Yennefer continued.

“But our relationship is different from yours with Jaskier. Always has been. He's different from me, from the both of us. It doesn't have to feel like that.”

“What's your advice, then?” Geralt sighed. He rested his head against Yennefer's chest tiredly. Yennefer ran her fingers through his hair.

“I won't give out advice, because you probably won't take it,” Yennefer replied. “But I just want you to realize that you would lose way too much if you left him.”

Geralt closed his eyes. He let the soft sound of Yennefer's heartbeat lull him. He wished Yennefer gave advice instead, because he felt utterly confused.

–

Jaskier hasn't spoken to Radovid in a day. They slept with their backs to each other, like two strangers, cold and uncaring. It was hauntingly similar to how Jaskier's night started when he confessed his needs to Geralt.

He was exhausted. He wasn't even sad anymore, just tired. He's cried so much he wasn't sure he had any more tears left. He was angry at Geralt and Radovid, and he was angry at himself. He was frustrated, because neither of them seemed to hear him when he tried to explain himself. He felt guilty because after all, it was him that forced them into this situation.

He wandered around the corridors, feeling empty. He was already grieving, but wasn't sure what. Did his relationship just end with the both of them? Geralt stormed away. Radovid essentially told him to leave.

Jaskier felt so alone. No one seemed to be on his side. He hated that his emotions fought with one another constantly, how he felt like a victim and a perpetrator at the same time.

Jaskier rubbed his bump with a sigh. He was so, so happy when he found out he was pregnant. He was over the moon with happiness. It finally happened, what he wanted so badly. He should be soaring high with joy. Instead, he felt like collapsing onto the ground and never getting up again.

He ran into Vizimir. As expected, the king looked furious. Radovid probably lamented his pain to him. Vizimir hasn't been fond of Jaskier from the start, but now he actively despised him, and didn't even try to hide it.

“Planning on playing with my brother's feelings some more?” Vizimir asked. Jaskier's stomach churned. He rested a protective hand over his belly, trying to fight off the nausea.

“I'm not playing with him,” he whispered. His voice came out weak, lacking his usual defiance. His throat was achy from all the crying, and his heart was too heavy.

“Why didn't you leave with the witcher?” Vizimir asked. He put his hand on his hips and glared at Jaskier. “He's your Alpha. Stop pretending like you'd rather be with my Beta brother.”

“I don't care about these things,” Jaskier huffed. “I love them both.”

“You need to pick one.”

“Yeah, I've never been too good at picking sides, you see.”

“You have to,” Vizimir said. His eyes narrowed. “I won't watch you ruin my brother. He's completely heartbroken because of you. I won't let you hurt him.”

“I promise I'm not,” Jaskier protested quietly, “I'm trying not to, okay? This wasn't planned. I know he thinks it was, but I promise it wasn't. And I love him as much as I love Geralt…”

“You need to leave.”

Vizimir's words cut deep like a knife. Jaskier faltered. He blinked, his mouth falling agape. He stared at Vizimir, who looked back at him, more serious than Jaskier had ever seen him before.

“What?”

“You need to go. As I said, I'm not going to watch this.”

“I'm pregnant,” Jaskier whispered. Tears welled in his eyes. “Where do you want me to go?”

“That's none of my concern. Just stop poisoning my brother with your presence.”

With that, he turned around, as if he didn't just shatter Jaskier with his words. Jaskier stood, frozen in place, holding his belly as tears ran down his face. He should have fought for his truth. He should have told Vizimir to get fucked.

He should have gone to Radovid and told him what his brother had said. He surely wouldn't want Jaskier to leave alone, while he was pregnant with Radovid's baby, right?

Or, maybe, he did. He did express something similar to Jaskier the day prior. That he should leave, go with Geralt, take their baby, just fuck off. Maybe he was the one who told Vizimir he wanted Jaskier gone, and Vizimir just passed the message along.

Clearly, his presence hurt people that he loved. He broke Geralt's heart, then Radovid's. His happiness was their sorrow. He wanted that baby so badly and he ruined everything else in the process.

Maybe he really did need to leave. Maybe that was better for everyone. For him to stop hurting his lovers, for him to disappear. Take his baby and his problems, far away.

Maybe he was too greedy, wanting everything and everyone at once. Maybe it was only fate, that he had to do this alone, after all.

Jaskier wiped off his tears and started thinking about which way he could use to slip out of the castle as quickly and as quietly as he could.

Chapter Text

The thought that Jaskier did go after Geralt crossed Radovid’s mind for a moment - after all, that was what he’d suggested in his fit of rage. Maybe Jaskier did follow through with Radovid’s idea that he absolutely didn’t mean, that was born out of heartache and anger.

Radovid wanted to apologize to him. He didn’t mean to hurt Jaskier, and deep down, he knew that Jaskier didn’t want to hurt him on purpose, either. And he couldn’t keep giving him the cold shoulder any longer. They needed to talk.

He felt that something wasn’t right after he couldn’t find Jaskier anywhere in the palace. It appeared as if he just vanished without a trace - if he followed Geralt, like Radovid thought for a second, wouldn’t he have taken his belongings? Jaskier wasn’t the type of man to just up and leave without saying a proper goodbye, Radovid was sure of that. He would have whispered a heartbroken farewell to Radovid’s stubborn back, and walked out wiping his tears. There was no way he just left like this.

Vizimir being way too calm about Jaskier’s disappearance was the first warning sign that Radovid was right, that something went very wrong. The second sign was one of the guards saying something about a servant climbing over the fence in the middle of the night, but no actual servant was missing from the castle.

Panic rose within him, higher with each passing minute. Jaskier was gone. He was gone, and he was pregnant, and alone somewhere, and fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

“He clearly went back to the witcher,” Vizimir told him, still way too casual. He didn’t seem phased at all. Radovid knew his brother wasn’t very fond of Jaskier, but his strange coldness over a pregnant Omega - one that his little brother was madly in love with - disappearing without a trace rang alarm bells in Radovid’s head.

“Let’s be honest, you’re better off without him.”

“That’s what you think,” Radovid spat. He nearly bore a hole into the rug with how much he was pacing up and down. He sent a search party after Jaskier, hoping he didn’t get very far. “I shouldn’t have been so mean to him.”

Vizimir scoffed. “Wait, you’re actually blaming yourself? He was playing with your heart. I bet he has no qualms about leaving you in distress like this. Proof that he never cared, if you ask me.”

“He isn’t like that,” Radovid argued. The uncomfortable feeling inside him grew. He glared at Vizimir. “He wouldn’t…did you have something to do with this?”

Anger flared inside his chest. His hands balled into fists. Vizimir sighed deeply.

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“So, it was you,” Radovid growled. “You sent him away.”

“I couldn’t keep watching you get hurt!” Vizimir snapped. He stood and stepped closer to Radovid. Radovid pulled back, feeling utterly disgusted by his own brother for the first time in his life.

“I never asked you to do this.”

“He’s not good for you, I was only…”

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” Radovid pointed his finger at his chest. His hand trembled with anger, with pain upon realizing what Vizimir has done. He turned around and stormed out, ignoring Vizimir calling his name. Radovid had to do something. He couldn’t just wait around for Jaskier to come back, if he would even come back at all. Melitele knew where he was, or what happened to him. All because Vizimir wanted to play the protective big brother without really understanding what was going on. Fuck, he did tell Jaskier to go after Geralt while he was angry. What if Jaskier thought it was actually Radovid who told Vizimir to send him away?

He needed to fix this - he needed to find Jaskier. He was important to him, and he needed to know that.

Jaskier was also important to someone else. Someone who also deserved to know he was missing. Someone who Jaskier also deeply loved and got into a fight with over the baby.

Fighting off the instinctive wave of jealousy, Radovid ran out into the yard and ordered a servant to get his horse. He knew where Geralt was currently residing, Jaskier told him. If he was lucky, he was still there.

–

Geralt’s heart seized in his chest when he saw how pale Ciri’s face was. She was trembling, her voice weak with fear as she walked up to Geralt.

“Someone’s here, looking for you,” she whispered, “it’s about Jaskier. Something bad happened.”

Geralt jumped up so fast, he knocked his chair over. Icy dread settled into the pit of his stomach. Terrible images flashed before his eyes. Ciri swallowed thickly and moved out of the way as Geralt stormed out.

His fear only worsened when he saw that it was Radovid waiting for him outside. He was pale as a ghost. His eyes were red-rimmed. Geralt approached him slowly, his legs feeling like they were made of lead.

“What happened?” he asked instead of a greeting. Radovid didn’t even get off his horse. He was holding the reins tight, as if he was ready to leave any second. He seemed panicked, on edge. Geralt’s stomach churned.

“Jaskier disappeared,” Radovid told him, his voice shaking. “We fought. I was being cold to him for a day, and then… my brother said something mean to him, and I think he thought that I wanted him gone, and… Geralt, we need to find him.”

Geralt squeezed his eyes shut. He should have known this was going to happen. Jaskier was so sad, so stressed-out. Geralt said awful things to him, and then Radovid took his own turn. He must have felt terrible. If even Radovid treated him like Geralt did, then it meant he had no one on his side anymore. They fucked this up terribly.

“I’ll get my horse,” Geralt said. He turned around to see Ciri standing in the doorway. Her eyes were full of worry.

“Please, tell me he’s going to be okay,” she whispered to Geralt, eyes full of tears. Geralt wanted to slap himself and Radovid over the face at once. Jaskier loved so many people, and so many people loved him. He was the joy of many of them, and they did this to him. This couldn’t go on any longer.

In the matter of seconds, he was on Roach’s back. With Radovid on his side, they galloped away and into the forest. Geralt heard Radovid’s heart beating just as frantically as his own.

–

Jaskier laid back on the pillow with a deep sigh. He tried to sit up, but when he did, his stomach cramped again. Jaskier rubbed a hand over it, eyes shut deeply. He heard footsteps. He opened his eyes again. He looked into warm eyes.

“Rest,” Althea told him softly. She handed him a warm mug of tea. “And drink this.”

“I don’t want to lose my baby,” Jaskier whispered. Tears fell from his eyes. He was trembling, and his heart ached. “Please, tell me I won’t miscarry. Please.”

“You won’t,” Althea promised. She gently wiped his tears off. “But you need to rest and drink your medicine. I’m serious. No more running in the dark woods and especially no more climbing over fences.”

Jaskier managed a small smile at that, even through his tears. He didn’t even know where he was going when he escaped the palace in a heartbroken frenzy. He was hoping to find a nearby village somewhere, but with his terrible sense of direction, he got lost in the woods. He was extremely lucky that a healer who lived in the forest found him just when he was about to collapse, and took him to her hut. Jaskier didn’t even want to imagine what would have happened to him if Althea didn’t find him.

The cramp in his stomach eased, and finally, he felt his baby move again. Jaskier let out a shaky sigh of relief. Althea gently patted him on the back.

“You don’t have to tell me what actually happened, but if you want to spill your heart out, I’m here.”

Jaskier sighed. He wiped his eyes before taking a sip of his tea. Althea waited for him patiently.

He told her everything in great detail. The words just kept spilling out along with more tears. It felt good to let it all out, all the stress and the guilt and the pain. Althea shook her head and caressed his hair as if he were a child needing comfort.

“You absolutely should not blame yourself for this,” she told him. “It’s not your fault that your men are so insecure.”

“But I forced them into this situation, didn’t I? I made them fight over me.”

“No, you didn’t. They did this all on their own. But not because they’re mean, or hate you. They both seem burdened by many fears and doubts. That’s something they need to work on.”

“They both told me to fuck off, essentially,” Jaskier chuckled bitterly. “None of them need me anymore.”

“We all say nasty things we don’t mean when we are angry and heartbroken. From what you have told me about your relationship with the both of them, I really doubt they don’t need you anymore. They both love you. And they will come to their senses, hopefully sooner rather than later.”

She gave Jaskier’s hand a squeeze. It made Jaskier smile. He could only hope that Althea was right. He wasn’t sure how he would survive without either of them.

–

They spent most of the road in complete silence. The only sound was their horses’ hooves hitting the ground, and the birds singing.

It was Radovid, who eventually broke the silence.

“I sent a search party. There’s a chance they already found him, but…I wanted to talk to you. I wanted you to know what happened.”

“I thought you hated me,” Geralt said. Radovid chuckled softly.

“I do. Same as you hate me. But we both love Jaskier, so you deserve to know. And, I-I guess…as stupid as it is, you might be the only person right now who understands how I feel.”

Geralt hummed. Indeed, they were both in the same messed-up situation. They both loved the same Omega, and they both lost him.

“I thought he planned this out,” Radovid continued. The guilt rolled off of him in waves, and he avoided looking into Geralt’s eyes. “That he used me to get pregnant. I eavesdropped on you in the garden. I heard when you told him that he got exactly what he wanted, and I put the pieces together…well. I thought I did. I felt hurt. And I lashed out at him. I couldn’t see clearly.”

What he told Geralt sounded eerily similar to what Geralt has done. He ducked his head in shame, along with Radovid.

“I hate you for being an Alpha,” Radovid continued, gritting his teeth as if every word pained him, “and for being…you. You and Jaskier have such a long history. Your bond bite is on his neck. You’re his mate. It’s only natural that he would pick you. A couple months together is nothing compared to decades. And I’m just a Beta. His biology, uhm. It fits with yours a lot better. I told him to go after you, because I thought he would prefer being with you anyways. That I fulfilled my role after I got him pregnant, because you… you know.”

“Because I can’t do the same thing to him,” Geralt finished it for him. He sighed deeply. “I never realized I would do this, especially with you, but I guess I gotta be honest now. I started truly loathing myself after Jaskier told him he wanted to get pregnant. I didn’t even realize he wanted that, and I knew I could never give that to him. I thought he will finally see what I always thought, that I’m not good enough for him. And then he fell in love with you. And that was fine, but I knew something was going to change, I could feel it. He got pregnant. And like you, I started putting my own picture together. That he would no longer need me. That I failed as an Alpha, as a mate, as everything.”

They continued their way in silence for a while. Something shifted in the air between them. Geralt felt lighter somehow. Like a huge weight has left his shoulders.

“He really loves you,” Radovid eventually said. He peered towards Geralt again. His eyes were honest, boring into Geralt’s own in a way that didn’t feel nearly as unpleasant as Geralt thought it would. “He didn’t want to leave you. Never. He doesn’t care that you’re sterile. He wants you.”

“He wants you too,” Geralt replied. “I can see it in his eyes. He’s in love with you. And I don’t think he cares that you’re a Beta. He…he just loves. So much, and so purely.”

He blinked rapidly when he felt tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of Radovid of all people. Radovid seemed to feel the same, because Geralt could smell the salty ting of tears that the Prince desperately tried to hold in.

“We need to make things right,” Radovid said. He held up his chin, quickly pulling himself together. Geralt nodded.

“We will.”

After about half an hour later, they stumbled upon a small hut. A lady was washing dishes with a cloth outside, humming to herself. Geralt could immediately tell she was a half-elf, and by the amulet in her neck, it seemed like she was a healer.

They stopped their horses. The healer looked up at them curiously.
“Can I help you?” she asked softly.

“Hopefully,” Geralt said. He slipped off Roach’s back and approached the healer slowly. Radovid followed suit. “We’re looking for someone.”

“Have you seen an Omega around here per chance?” Radovid asked. “He’s tall, in his early forties but looks way younger. Long brown hair, blue eyes, stubble? He doesn’t have a lot of stuff with him.”

“He’s pregnant, three months along,” Geralt added. “His bump is still small.”

“I, I think he wore a light green blouse when I last saw him?” Radovid continued. “Maybe he’s still wearing it.”

“He smells like cinnamon. And he’s human, and probably scared and hungry,” Geralt sighed, guilt seizing his chest at every word.

The healer looked them up and down. She smiled.

“Well,” she started, seemingly amused, “why don’t you come inside my hut, gentlemen? I think you would like to see what’s inside. Or, more like, who.”

Geralt and Radovid exchanged a look. Realization struck them both at the same time.

Not even waiting for the healer to lead the way, they stormed inside.

Chapter Text

There were so many things Jaskier wanted to say when he saw them bursting inside the hut, panicked and disheveled, and yelled his name in unison. There were so many emotions pushing at his chest, a wild mix of relief, sadness, anger.

Yet, when he looked up at them, at their red, worried eyes, their pale cheeks, their trembling hands, all that came out of him was a needy whimper. A desperate cry for comfort, and an instinctive opening of his arms, wanting to hold and to be held, finally.

Radovid reached his bed first. He all but collapsed next to him and started crying immediately. He held Jaskier against his chest and showered his face and his hair with kisses. He mumbled something, probably an apology, but it was difficult to hear him over the sound of his sobbing. It only made Jaskier cry and cling to him harder.

When he finally managed to calm down somewhat, he looked over Radovid's shoulder. Geralt stood just a couple meters away from them, stiff as a statue. He looked at Jaskier like how a stray, starving dog looked at food. Wanting, craving, but not daring to touch. Jaskier wrapped one arm around Radovid and reached for Geralt with the other.

Geralt took his hand, and suddenly the dam broke. He clutched Jaskier's hand against his face. His tears started to fall, not sobbing loudly like Radovid, just quietly weeping. It was just as heartbreaking to see.

“We're so sorry, Jaskier,” Radovid whispered as he kissed each one of Jaskier's knuckles. “Can you forgive us?”

How could he not, when he loved them so much, when he needed them so badly? He was angry, yes. For not being understood by the two people he cared about the most, for being blamed for everything. But that didn't mean that being held in their arms, that being close to them again didn't melt his heart. Jaskier cursed himself for being so easy.

At the same time, he knew that this couldn't continue the way it was right now. He didn't have any more room left for being dragged through the mud, just because he wanted a baby. He couldn't take any more of this. He blamed himself for this entire situation, but maybe Althea was right. Maybe it was not his fault, after all, that his heart wanted something different.

“Only if you listen to me,” he said. “Really listen. And you won't interrupt me, and you actually believe me.”

“Alright,” Geralt promised. His eyes were still full of concern. “But first, you need to tell us if you're okay.”

“I am. We are. We are both okay,” Jaskier said. Geralt's eyes drifted to his stomach. He looked hesitant for a second, like he wanted to say something else, but he kept quiet. Radovid let out a breath of relief.

“First of all, I have to say, that as much as I love the both of you, you were awful to me,” Jaskier swallowed back the tears that wanted to spill out. He was so tired of crying. “I understand that this situation is difficult for everyone involved, but I never wanted to hurt either of you. I tried my best to make this as easy as I could for both of you, and then… I got this in return.”

Geralt and Radovid hung their heads in shame at the same time. It was almost an amusing sight, if the situation weren't so dire.

“I did want a baby, yes. And I did know that I couldn't have one with you, Geralt, not naturally, but… you kept asking me what I expected of you. Nothing. I promise. I only told you because you saw through me, because you could tell I wasn't okay. And I wanted to be honest with you, because you are my mate, and I love you so much. I'm sorry, if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough. It's not true. You are my family. Always have been, always will be. And I'll always need you, regardless of whether we can have a child together or not. The idea of leaving you never even crossed my mind, not even after meeting Radovid. It was a no-brainer.”

He took a deep breath. He held onto both their hands.

“I know that my way of loving might not be the default. But I am capable of loving more people at the same time, and equally. And this is how I feel about both of you. I wanted us to be a family. All three of us. This little life inside me… Radovid and I created it, yes, but I consider it Geralt's, too. I share my life with both of you, it's only natural for me, that this baby is all of ours.”

He looked at Radovid. “I didn't plan it. I never actually thought ‘oh here's a man with good genes, better trick him into getting me pregnant’, like, sweet Melitele. I fell in love with you. We have a relationship, we have sex with each other and, things like that happen. I am so, so happy, that it happened. But I'm not some scheming witch, no offense to my dear friend Yennefer.”

That made Geralt chuckle softly. Jaskier felt his heart ease up a little bit.

“I didn't use either of you. And I didn't want to throw either of you away. Maybe my communication wasn't the best, and I'm sorry about that. But I told you everything. I can't say it differently.”

There was a bit of silence, as they all seemed to mull it over in their heads. Althea was tidying in the background, not bothering them, but Jaskier could tell she was listening. She seemed to really root for them to sort it out.

“I accused you of planning this out, because I misunderstood… our relationship, and you, I think, “Radovid admitted quietly. ”It was just too hard to believe that you would want me otherwise. Me, in a competition against Geralt? An Alpha? A man that you've lived your life with? Your mate? I believed I could only lose in that battle. It sounded too good to be true. And the way the events followed each other really felt like it couldn't be a coincidence. It messed with my head, but I never wanted you to leave. I'm sorry for saying that. I didn't mean it.”

“So, you didn't tell Vizimir to send me away?” Jaskier asked. Radovid shook his head.

“No. And I don't think I will be able to forgive him for doing that to you. Or myself. I hurt you.”

“And so did I,” Geralt chimed in. He stared at his hands, unable to look Jaskier in the eye. “I felt like a failure. For not being able to give you what you need. I hated myself for it, and I took it out on you. And then Radovid came, and you got pregnant. I thought you didn't need me anymore. It felt like my world ended.”

“We're going to need to sort this out,” Jaskier told them softly. “We're going to need to talk about this some more. Because I'm not letting either of you slip away from me.”

“We're going to make this right,” Radovid promised. Jaskier sighed.

“I need actions, not just words. I'm glad we managed to talk a little about it, but I know this won't solve anything. I know where you both are coming from, you know how I feel. It's a great start, but I'm gonna need you both to step up. If you don't want to lose me, you need to fight for me. But not with each other.”

Geralt and Radovid looked at each other. None of them said a word, but they held each other's gaze. Jaskier smelled the distressed pheromones coming off from both of them. It was still a long way ahead of them, before they both actually managed to digest Jaskier's words, and before they buried their own self-loathing. Until then, Jaskier would try to be patient with them as much as he could. But he wouldn't let himself be used as a doormat for anyone's insecurities.

“We'll try,” Geralt eventually said. His eyes softened as he looked at Jaskier. Jaskier reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. Geralt sighed softly.

“You had us worried sick,” Radovid said. “I was so worried that you would…”

“Lose the baby,” Althea chimed in. Geralt and Radovid turned to him, their faces turning ghostly pale. Althea put her hands on her hips. “It nearly happened. I know it might not be my place to give an opinion on your relationship, but I'm a healer. And a distressed Omega in the first few most critical months of his pregnancy, over the age of forty, is a recipe for the most terrible disasters. He needs way less stress in his life. From now on, you need to keep the cockfighting and the guilt-tripping to the minimum. You can't keep hurting him over your own fragile egos. I understand that this is hard for you, too, and you have every right to be sad. But this sadness cannot lead to the risking of Jaskier's health.”

Jaskier smiled. His lovers both sat there with guilty eyes, like two naughty kids scolded by their mom. Jaskier took their hands and placed them over his belly.

“This is what matters the most,” he told them. Geralt swallowed thickly, but didn't pull his hand away. Radovid nodded, brushing over his stomach with his thumb.

“I'm taking him back to the palace,” Radovid told Geralt. He peered at him from the corner of his eye carefully. “He will be the most comfortable there.”

Geralt inhaled through his nose. It seemed like he wanted to argue, but decided against it.

“Okay.”

“You're coming with us,” Jaskier said. Geralt blinked at him in surprise. Radovid bit down on his lip, probably to stop himself from arguing when he was practically forbidden to by a healer.

“You want me to move to Redania?” Geralt muttered. “You know I'm not really…”

“At least for a little while,” Jaskier cut him off. “I need you both by my side. I said we need to sort this out, didn't I? How are we supposed to do that if you're away from me, from us?”

With a small smile, he added, “besides, you heard Althea. I need very little stress and lots of comfort. You both need to do some groveling, so…”

He fluttered his lashes for extra measure. Geralt groaned, but immediately deflated. Jaskier's heart that felt heavy like lead for the past few months, finally started feeling light again.

There was no guarantee this would actually work, he was aware. Geralt and Radovid were both burdened by so many insecurities, they could fill an entire village with them. And Jaskier still felt a little wary around them after what they put him through. His lovers were too different as well, and Jaskier was pretty sure it would lead to some more clashing.

But he was willing to try for the sake of all of them. Even if it would be hard, he didn't want to give up.

Chapter Text

The road back to Redania was easily the most awkward thing Geralt has ever experienced. He felt uncomfortably stiff seated on Roach’s back behind Jaskier. Jaskier smelled anxious. It made Geralt’s nose twist, but he was aware he was stinking with nerves, too. Radovid rode next to them and kept watching them like a hawk, so much that he nearly got knocked down by a tree branch he didn’t notice. He was probably checking how much Geralt was touching Jaskier.

Although the conversation in the healer’s hut eased some of the heavy weight Geralt was carrying, he still had many doubts over this situation. It was soothing to know that Jaskier still loved and wanted him, indeed, but those nasty voices inside his head kept whispering questions. He wasn’t sure if this new living situation would work out, what the hell would he do in Redania? What was he supposed to do, trapped in this limbo with his mate and his new beau? Was he going to date Radovid, as well? Was he going to co-parent? What even was his role in this scenario?

He could tell that Jaskier was doubtful, as well. He knew Geralt like the back of his hand, and he’d clearly gotten Radovid known well enough to see the obstacles ahead of them.

Geralt had one of his hand on Jaskier’s hip to keep him steady in the saddle. It was a warmly familiar position, keeping him close and encircled in his arms. Any other day, he would have nuzzled into Jaskier’s neck to make him giggle. Kiss his skin, and play with his hair. He would have hugged him close.

He wasn’t sure how much was allowed. Jaskier was still rightfully angry with him, after all, and Geralt didn’t know where they stood. When Roach hit a bump in the road, Geralt’s hand that was on Jaskier’s hip slipped. He accidentally touched his stomach. Geralt yanked his hand back like he was burnt. Jaskier made a sound before him and stiffened even more. Geralt cursed himself.

He shouldn’t be acting this way, they just promised Jaskier they wouldn’t. But the small bulge protruding from Jaskier’s frame was still the reminder of his failure, and it would continue to be. He knew by now that Jaskier didn’t consider that a failure at all, but Geralt couldn’t help the sour taste in his mouth that appeared whenever he was slapped in the face with the evidence of Jaskier’s pregnancy.

“Althea is so sweet.”

That was the first thing Jaskier said after about almost an hour of complete silence.

“Remind me to pay her a visit some day. I owe her one.”

“I owe her one,” Radovid crooned. He pulled his horse closer to Roach to hold Jaskier’s hand. Geralt bit down on his tongue to stop himself from growling. He would behave, he had to. For Jaskier.

“She made sure you would come back to me in one piece.”

“To the both of you,” Jaskier corrected him softly. It made Geralt’s chest tingle with a sense of warmth. He found himself holding Jaskier just a little tighter.

Radovid didn’t say anything. He peered at Geralt carefully. When their eyes met, he all but snapped his head away. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, dear. I need to get used to this.”

“We all do. It’s going to be different. But…it’s going to be good. I can feel it.”

Good for you, Geralt wanted to say. Jaskier twisted around in the saddle to look at him. His big blue eyes were full of warmth. Geralt wanted to drown in them again, wanted those eyes on him like in old times. Except, nothing was going to be the same, and he couldn’t be as optimistic as Jaskier was to believe it would be good. Even Jaskier’s voice cracked with a tiny hint of doubt under the cheerful facade - but he would continue hoping, because he was just like that. Always full of hope, even when it made no sense to believe in anything good. Geralt so desperately wanted to be like him, even for a little while.

His stomach twisted with nerves when they walked through the giant gate of the palace. The fussing of the guards and servants around them had him on edge. The scent of expensive perfume mixed with everyone’s natural pheromones made him frown. Everything was too loud, too bright, too much. And he would have to stay here for an undefined amount of time, because his mate batted his eyelashes at him. Sweet Melitele.

When the king saw them, he made a face that indicated he was close to throwing up, but he swallowed it down with great effort. It seemed like he wanted to question Geralt’s presence, but he only had to take one look at the witcher’s face to decide it was wiser not to say anything.

Radovid had his lips pressed into a thin line as he slid off his horse and handed it over to a servant. Vizimir opened his mouth then quickly shut it when Radovid started speaking.

“He’s going to be with us for a while,” he said, nodding towards Geralt. “I hope you don’t mind, especially after what you’ve done to Jaskier.”

He was a king, he could have just ordered someone to throw Geralt out, but he clearly loved his brother too much. He hung his head instead and simply didn’t reply. He didn’t dare look at Jaskier either.

“Lots of tension in this castle, not the best vibes around” Jaskier whispered back to Geralt in his typical, comical manner. It made Geralt snort. He gave Jaskier’s hip the smallest squeeze. Jaskier smiled back at him.

He slipped off Roach’s back and reached up to help Jaskier get off. He heard a small sound from beside him. He noticed that Radovid was standing right next to him, and he reached his arm out for Jaskier at the exact same time he did.

“Oh, my, all these handsome men at my beck and call,” Jaskier purred. “Not my worst nightmare.”

He lifted his leg over Roach’s back with way more elegance than his condition suggested, and reached for both their hands at the same time. Geralt felt his cheeks grow strangely warm as they helped Jaskier down with Radovid.

Geralt felt close to passing out as they moved inside Radovid’s chambers. He didn’t know where they took Roach, or how he would let Ciri and Yennefer know where he was or what was going to happen. He felt numb and dizzy as he was led inside a spacey room that smelled like the perfect mix of Jaskier and Radovid. His stomach lurched.

“This was a long day,” Jaskier announced as he stretched. He groaned. “Oh, and I stink. I need to take a bath.”

“I’ll call in a servant to prepare it for you,” Radovid offered. Jaskier shook his head, stretching some more. He yawned. He looked utterly exhausted.

“No, I’d rather draw it for myself,” Jaskier said. “I’ll be back soon, clean, good-smelling and relaxed. I promise.”

He leant up and kissed Radovid on the lips. Geralt sat on the bed, back hunched and chest tight. He wasn’t sure what the emotion that flared up inside him when he watched Jaskier kiss Radovid meant. It was a spike of jealousy for sure, but also something else he couldn’t name. He just knew that Jaskier looked beautiful when he was kissing someone, and maybe Radovid wasn’t that unattractive, himself, and maybe they didn’t look that bad together.

He shook his head. This situation was messing with his brain. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling anymore.

Jaskier approached him with a small smile. Geralt gasped when his Omega leant in, cupped his cheeks and kissed him, too. Geralt’s hands came up instinctively to hold him around the waist. Jaskier made a pleased sound against his mouth before he pulled back.

“Behave while I’m gone,” he whispered, and with that, he was out of the room, and the enticing spell he left behind with his soft kisses and his beautiful smiles was immediately broken. Geralt crossed his arms over his chest. Radovid stood in the same spot Jaskier left him, like his legs took root in the floor.

The minutes passed by, and Jaskier still hasn’t returned. The silence grew heavier with each second. Geralt wiped his damp palms on his trousers. Radovid shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“He left us here so we would talk,” Radovid pointed out after what felt like hours of awkward, dead silence. “Great.”

“I don’t feel like talking,” Geralt said. Radovid snorted.

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you. I’ll accept you being here, because I know you’re important to Jaskier. Which is the same reason I sought you out when he disappeared. But we’re not in a relationship. We don’t have to get along well.”

“And here I thought we had a moment in the woods,” Geralt muttered sarcastically. Radovid scoffed.

“You know that was because we were both worried about Jaskier. Guess it felt like…we bonded. But that doesn’t have to go any further than that.”

“I wasn’t planning on proposing to you.”

“You’re suddenly in a funny mood?” Radovid raised his eyebrow at him. “I want to be clear. I still won’t play second fiddle. You’re not going to smoke me out.”

“Is this the real you, or the one you showed me in the woods?” Geralt asked. He leant back on the bed. Radovid followed his movements with his eyes, but Geralt couldn’t decipher the emotion in them. “Which one are you when you’re with Jaskier? Because it feels like you’re two different people.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” Radovid shot back. “You show a bit of softness, and then you immediately bury it to make sure no one remembers it. Because you’re a big, strong Alpha, aren’t you?”

His voice went deeper in the end. Geralt shifted on the bed.

“And yet, it’s you who keeps trying to show me who’s wearing the pants,” Geralt drawled back. “And you desperately want that to be you.”

“Why, is that not what you want for yourself? To have Jaskier for yourself? To have the upper hand?”

“You’re reflecting onto me, Prince Charming. You keep mocking my supposed Alpha instincts, and yet, no one is as possessive as you.”

“I got him pregnant,” Radovid pointed out. “Allow me to feel the need to protect him and our baby.”

“From me?” Geralt scoffed. He stood from the bed and approached Radovid. To his surprise, the Beta didn’t step back. He stood his ground and stared at Geralt. From up close, Geralt could tell they were the same height. And maybe Radovid was leaner than him, but he had strong shoulders underneath his fancy clothes. His eyes were wild when Geralt looked into them.

“And you really had to rub it in, didn’t you? That it’s your baby? I can play this game, too. I can talk about all the decades I’ve spent with Jaskier, the moments we shared, the things we survived together. We are a much stronger unit than you two could ever be.”

A growl ripped out of his chest on instinct. Then, to his biggest surprise, he heard Radovid growl back. It wasn’t as deep and guttual like an Alpha’s growl, but it resonated deep enough to make it obvious to Geralt that despite his seemingly harmless nature, he would bite back if bitten.

“Are there wild animals in this room, or did you just not listen to a word I’ve said to you?”

They immediately stopped growling and turned towards Jaskier. He sighed deeply and shook his head at them. He wore a clean linen shirt with trousers, and his hair was curled from the steam of the bath. He was beautiful, and very disappointed.

“This is what I specifically asked you not to do, isn’t it? What Althea also suggested? Do you think I need this in my condition? Ugh, I hate pulling the pregnancy card, but seriously. I don’t want any more fights. You need to calm down, and focus on what’s important. Our baby. I knew there would be bumps in the road, but please, let me have a moment of respite, okay? Just for one day. I’m tired of this. You will live together, so get used to each other.”

Geralt felt himself deflate. He was right. This was exactly what they shouldn’t be doing, what they promised they wouldn’t do. He glanced at Radovid and could see the guilt in his eyes.

Jaskier sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh.

“Now, untangle your antlers and come to bed with me.”

The realization that they would sleep in the same bed together hit Geralt like a bucket of ice water. Radovid swallowed audibly.

Behave, for the sake of Jaskier, Geralt kept telling himself as he awkwardly climbed onto the bed. Don’t make the same mistake again.

If he didn’t want to lose Jaskier again, he needed to try his best, but Melitele, he was already fed up.

Chapter Text

The squeal Ciri let out reverberated off the walls. Her eyes lit up with genuine awe as she practically flew over to her uncle.

“Your belly is getting so big!” Ciri beamed as she placed her hands on Jaskier's stomach. Jaskier smiled brightly, lovingly ruffling her hair.

“I know, right? Just two months ago, I only looked like I had a big lunch, and now it's like I swallowed a whole watermelon.”

“How are you doing?” Yennefer asked softly. Jaskier looked up at her, and saw the inquiring look in her eyes - he knew she didn't only mean physically.

“Good. Getting there,” he clarified. “It's still new.”

“You guys aren't fighting, right?” Ciri asked. “You know I'd kick anyone's ass if they were mean to you. Even Geralt's.”

Jaskier chuckled. “No, we don't fight. It's more like… well, it's a learning curve.”

They really weren't fighting, but there was obvious tension between Geralt and Radovid, which Jaskier obviously expected. As much as he tried to stay optimistic, he was aware that this situation was strange to say the least. His lovers did their best to remain civil with one another, but they both had a competitive streak in them that made it difficult. Each of them wanted to be the one who cared for Jaskier the most - it seemed like they actually believed the only way to “win” was pushing the other down and climbing up on top using Jaskier’s affections as a ladder.

Which was ridiculous, really, because there was no competition in the first place for any of them to win, and Jaskier made that very clear from the start.

He had to be patient, though, he knew that. He couldn’t just expect them to disrobe all of the same insecurities that led them to questioning Jaskier’s intentions in the first place.

“It’s not easy for anyone involved,” Jaskier added. He bit his lip, feeling the same guilt that has been plaguing him for the past few months flaring up inside his chest again. “Maybe I expect too much from them. I don’t know. I don’t wanna be selfish.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re capable of that,” Ciri huffed. “You’re doing your best to make this as easy for everyone involved as you can.”

“Ciri’s right,” Yennefer placed a reassuring hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. “You love them both. And you want them to be a part of your family. There’s nothing selfish about that. Isn’t that what that healer also told you?”

“Althea, yes.”

“Well, then. If more people say the same thing to you, maybe you should believe them. Especially me,” Yennefer added with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “because you know I’m always right.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her. “You’re literally making me sick, witch.”

“That’s just the pregnancy.”

“No, I think it’s you. But alas,” his voice turned fond, “you may actually be right.”

His eyes landed on Geralt behind Yennefer. He hugged Ciri first, smiling fondly as he squeezed her against his chest. He’s a good father, Jaskier thought with a smile. He would be a wonderful one to their baby, if he accepted the role.

Once Geralt was done greeting Yennefer, he turned to him. He gave him a small smile. Jaskier hated how uncertain he acted around him now, as if they weren’t literally bonded to one another, and hadn't spent decades as a close unit. He wished everything could be exactly how it used to be, he longed for their easy dynamic, the way they just understood each other without words despite being so different, the way they were so carefree around each other.

Jaskier beckoned him with his finger. Geralt seemed hesitant still. He seemed to be scared of Jaskier’s pregnancy in a way that Jaskier knew wasn’t simply because of the condition itself. He was certain that if it was Geralt’s biological baby he was carrying, he would be a lot more confident.

And if he was so unsure, then someone else had to take matters into their own hands.

Jaskier stepped closer to him and grabbed the back of his neck. He stifled Geralt’s surprised gasp by kissing him passionately. It felt so good to be close to him, the way Geralt’s hands finally found his waist on instinct, how he finally relaxed into him. The familiar taste of his lips, his musky scent sent shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

Geralt and Radovid both tried their best to tend to his needs, but not in every way, not in the ways Jaskier craved. Geralt was clearly terrified of touching him in that state he did not induce, and Radovid seemed to have taken it into his head that while he desperately wanted to rival Geralt in every area, he could not compete with him in that way.

Jaskier felt the tension between his two lovers, and he was quite tense, himself, for more than one reason. His hormones had made his body needy, and no one seemed to want to do anything about it - which left him wanting and imagining all kinds of scenarios between the three of them that would certainly remain only lustful daydreams. That didn’t mean the ache would leave.

It felt like, as Geralt kissed him back, that he was perhaps missing the same thing. That he wanted it just as much as Jaskier did, he just wasn’t sure how to do anything about it lately.

“There’s a child here, you know,” Yennefer interrupted their moment playfully. Ciri snorted.

“I’m not a child! But right, this is getting a little weird.”

That was their cue to pull apart, Jaskier realized. He looked up at Geralt, biting his lower lip. Geralt’s eyes seemed darker, and he breathed faster. His scent was stronger, and Jaskier was sure his own was, too.

He noticed that Geralt’s hand still stayed on his waist. The warmth of his skin felt scorching hot, even through Jaskier’s clothes.

“Is everything alright?”

Jaskier’s eyes left Geralt’s face and landed on Radovid who stood there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. Jaskier wondered how long he was standing there, watching them kiss. Once again, Jaskier’s mind was filled with very vivid images that were indeed strange to experience right in that moment.

“Of course,” Jaskier said, sending him an encouraging smile. He laced his fingers together with Geralt’s, and reached for Radovid’s with the other. “I believe you haven’t met Ciri and Yennefer yet.”

Radovid seemed to have some difficulty looking away from their joined hands, before he pulled himself together and stiffly introduced himself to the rest of Jaskier’s family.

“I’ll show them around,” Geralt suddenly said, letting go of Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier immediately mourned the loss of his touch. Yennefer sent him a strange look before she pulled Ciri after her. They walked away with Geralt, leaving Jaskier and Radovid alone.

“At least I’m not intruding on anything anymore,” Radovid said, surprisingly honest. Jaskier sighed.

“You weren’t. And you know, you and Geralt are allowed to be in the same place at the same time. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that when one of you enters the room, the other almost immediately slips out.”

He reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind Radovid’s ear, and smiled up at him. “But I understand. I don’t judge either of you. I just really, really want you both to know that you don’t have to compete with each other. There’s no need to fight over me. At all.”

“I know,” Radovid sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I mean, I guess that’s true, but…it’s hard.”

“Do you hate Geralt?”

“I wouldn’t exactly…I’m not sure what to make of him. He makes me…tense. And vice versa, I think.”

“So, that tension between you is not hatred, just competitiveness?”

“I guess.”

“You used to be a little better with words,” Jaskier teased playfully. Radovid snorted, but at least there was a fleeting smile on his lips. He placed a hand on Jaskier’s stomach, rubbing it gently.

“How about we drop the topic?”

They could, but also, it wasn’t completely possible what with them literally living together, but Jaskier figured constantly pushing also wasn’t the best tactic.

“And we do what instead?” Jaskier asked with a smirk. Radovid raised an eyebrow.

“What do you want to do?”

“Something similar to what caused this,” Jaskier giggled cheekily, pointing at his stomach. Radovid’s cheeks flushed and then he pressed his lips into a thin line. His expression made it obvious to Jaskier that he would not be getting his way again.

“I think Vizimir wanted to see me, actually,” Radovid said, taking a step back. Jaskier huffed.

“You aren’t even on speaking terms, but sure, whatever. Are you not attracted to me anymore, or what?”

“Gods, don’t say that. I’m so, so attracted to you.”

“So, this is about…” he trailed off. He just promised himself he wouldn’t push the Geralt topic. That was what it was about, obviously. Didn’t mean Jaskier was happy about it either way.

“It’s fine,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “We’ll talk about it.”

Radovid sent him an apologetic glance.

–

“You look good together, you know. The three of you.”

Geralt stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Yennefer, who looked all too pleased with herself, grinning.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, you heard exactly what I said.”

“I agree,” Ciri added with a grin. “I think it’s cute. The three of you in a relationship.”
“We’re not in a relationship,” Geralt groaned. “I mean, Jaskier and I are still together, but I’m not dating Radovid.”

“But dating multiple people at the same time is not out of the ordinary for you,” Yennefer pointed out. “I mean, you’re also dating me.”

“That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t,” Ciri jabbed him in the side with a finger, smirking.

Geralt snorted. He honestly didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry about the idea of the three of them in an actual relationship together- after all, he wasn’t attracted to Radovid. He didn’t look bad, by all means, he was actually kind of handsome, but Geralt needed to look past that, anyway. It would be insanely weird to date the man that got his mate pregnant, wouldn’t it?

Geralt didn’t hate Radovid, but he was his competition, and he wasn’t an easy one. He made that very clear on the first day of Geralt moving into the castle with them. He won’t play second fiddle, was what he told Geralt, and he certainly wasn’t. He was more than up for the challenge, but so was Geralt.

They would not fight openly, because they promised Jaskier they wouldn’t, but they would still keep an eye on the other, just in case.

And indeed, Geralt was no stranger to having relationships with multiple people, but he couldn’t quite imagine that with Radovid. It just didn’t make any sense, did it?

“Then, why are you blushing?”

“Yennefer!” Geralt scoffed. Yennefer actually had the audacity to giggle. “Stop reading my thoughts! And I’m not blushing.”

“You’re totally blushing,” Ciri laughed. Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Did you only come here to make fun of me?”

“No, but it’s a lot of fun all the same,” Yennefer chuckled.

Geralt swore under his breath. His emotions were all over the place, even he could admit that. Maybe those intense feelings of self-doubt also manifested in ways that Geralt thought were impossible.

–

They were already in bed with Jaskier when Geralt returned. Jaskier was asleep, peacefully lying on his side, with Radovid holding him from behind. Unlike Jaskier, he was wide awake, and saw Geralt slipping inside the room.

His white hair was illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through the window as he climbed into the bed, on Jaskier’s other side, facing him. He didn’t seem to notice that Radovid was awake, or he just didn’t care, Radovid wasn’t sure.

Geralt caressed Jaskier’s face with so much gentleness, it made something warm blossom inside Radovid’s chest despite trying to push that feeling away.

Geralt placed a hand on Jaskier’s waist. His fingers accidentally brushed Radovid’s. He immediately pulled his hand back with a small gasp.

“Sorry,” he whispered. His voice sounded thick, embarrassed. He swallowed awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” Radovid whispered back.

He was glad the darkness hid his face that was really red for some reason.

Chapter Text

Despite it always being full of guests and life, the palace felt the loneliest place most of the time. Geralt simply didn’t fit in well with the loud, obnoxious nobles: he couldn’t pretend to care about whatever empty gossip they had going on, not like Jaskier. He couldn’t get comfortable in the presence of flashy jewelry and expensive fur, and he despised the exploitation of the lower folks which these people did with the biggest smiles on their faces. He felt stiff and cold, and strangely small, smothered by this world. The idea that Jaskier may want to stay here forever terrified him.

He took solitude in reading. It’s been a while since he was constantly at the same place, so he barely had time to do that before. The palace had a library stacked with many books, and Geralt had been almost obsessively devouring them, desperately trying to avoid the strange feelings inside him that only got stronger and stronger every day. At least while he was reading, he had to focus on something else besides the choked-up emotions that squeezed at his throat, pain and guilt and doubts in constant battle with an inexplicable, growing need within him.

It had to be a cruel game of his instincts which he couldn’t turn off, the almost helpless desire to protect and care for Jaskier like he was only his own. It was getting harder and harder to resist the sweet scent, the needy pheromones rolling off of the Omega in waves. The way his body changed mesmerized the Alpha in Geralt. Somehow, despite everything, it only made him need and love Jaskier more. But he couldn’t forget that his sweet scent was mixed with Radovid’s, that he was carrying his child. He felt like a needy dog, whimpering around the dinner table, needing something to satisfy that hunger within him, but knowing right well it would be a wrong thing to take anything off the plate, because it wasn’t his.

It was too much, and it was making his head dizzy. Whenever he kissed Jaskier, that fire burned within him so scorching hot, it nearly consumed them both. They haven’t made love in months, since Jaskier had gotten pregnant. He wondered if he did it with Radovid - the image of them together always filled him with jealousy, until it transformed into something he couldn’t quite name. A strange, tingling sensation coiling low in his stomach, to think about Jaskier and Radovid in the throes of passion, to imagine their similarly elegant hands intertwined against the sheets, Radovid’s blond curls falling over the curve of Jaskier’s stomach as he dips lower between his legs, Jaskier moaning so sweetly as always…

Geralt swore when he felt himself harden inside his pants. Fuck his stupid instincts, his own hormones that were triggered by Jaskier’s very own. That was why he felt that way, and he probably reflected that onto Radovid. So much for focusing on something else while he was reading, Geralt thought bitterly as he tossed the book aside.

He looked up when the door opened. Jaskier walked in with a smile. He wore a long, white embroidered silk shirt, and put small pearl earrings in his ears. There was some sort of dinner that Geralt pointedly didn’t attend. He was confused as to why Jaskier was back in the room so quick, why he left Radovid and the fancy gowns behind.

“Is it done already?” he asked. Jaskier sat next to him on the bed, one hand gingerly cradling his stomach. He shook his head.

“I wanted to check on you,” he replied. He cupped Geralt’s cheek with one hand, thumb rubbing at his cheekbone gently. Geralt found himself leaning into his touch. He could have avoided him, trying to separate himself from the temptation that was his mate, but he was simply unable to. Jaskier always drew him in like a flame beckoned a moth.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Jaskier tilted his head to the side, looking up at him so earnestly, that Geralt’s chest ached. He was so beautiful, so sweet, so perfect. He, somehow, became even more radiant since he’d gotten pregnant. His skin was glowing, his cheeks always suffused with a lovely pink. Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier suddenly said. Geralt frowned, confused. Jaskier sighed softly, biting his lip.

“For everything. I know this isn’t good for you. This place, this situation. I was being selfish when I asked you to stay here with us. If you,” his voice cracked, and he turned his face away, trying to act like he wasn’t going to cry, but he couldn’t fool Geralt. “If you want to leave, you can. I’m not forcing you to stay. I really just…wanted all of us to be a family. I still do. But maybe we can do that differently. Even if you’re…fuck, it sounds like I’m trying to send you away. But I’m not. I just don’t want to hurt you, Geralt. I love you so much. And I don’t want you to be miserable.”

He looked at Geralt again, rapidly blinking away the tears in his eyes. He gave him a weak smile. “But obviously, if you want to stay, I would be so happy. But I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice.”

This was what Geralt wanted from the moment he moved in with them. To be free. To run far away from this place, from this strange love triangle, from this botched idea of a family. But the same thing that made him stay in the first place, the same thing that was trying to offer him a way out now, made him plant his heels again. He couldn’t be away from him. Not anymore.

He leant in and pressed his lips against Jaskier’s. Jaskier made a surprised sound against his mouth, before his arms found their rightful place around Geralt’s neck, fingers tangling in his silver locks. The fire rose again. Geralt knew this was a bad idea, still. That didn’t mean he could force himself to stop as his arms embraced Jaskier, pulling him close. His lips tasted so sweet, Geralt was getting drunk on them. Jaskier moaned again as he licked into Geralt’s mouth. Geralt trembled.

“I want you,” he found himself whispering, kissing over Jaskier’s cheek, his chin, down his neck. Jaskier tipped his head back, eyes slipping close in bliss. “I don’t want to leave you. Never again.”

“Then don’t,” Jaskier breathed, “if you really want me, stay. I just want to…”

“Offer me a choice, yes. I heard you. And I’m choosing to stay.”

“You also need to accept Radovid, then. You know that.”

Geralt pressed his nose close to Jaskier’s bond mark. He traced the familiar scar with his lips, breathed in his scent- he could distinguish between Jaskier’s sweet cinnamon, his own deep musk, and Radovid’s faint citrus. It was a heady perfume, making Geralt’s head spin. He licked over that mark. Jaskier shivered in delight.

“Okay,” Geralt concluded. Jaskier grabbed his jaw and lifted his head from the crook of his neck, forcing Geralt to look into his eyes. His blue irises were nearly swallowed by black.

“Fuck me,” he demanded, moving to press their groins together. His belly got in the way. Geralt shivered when he felt it press into him. He didn’t even touch the bump, not once. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to. It was also a painful reminder of his own failure. But now, that it was cradled between their bodies, it felt different.

Jaskier pulled him close, until he was lying on his back and Geralt was on top of him. His scent was getting stronger with his arousal as he spread his legs, clawing at Geralt’s back to get his shirt off. Geralt tore it off himself, throwing it away. Jaskier’s hands were immediately on his bare skin, touching, caressing him. The dam finally broke. Maybe Geralt was allowed to give in again.

He rucked Jaskier’s shirt up. This was the first time he’s seen him bare in months. His eyes took in the new curves, the soft skin. The Alpha in him was louder than his rationality as his hands started to explore, cupping swollen breasts and thumbs brushing taut nipples. Jaskier whimpered softly.

“You’re…” Geralt could barely get the words out. He never felt this way before. Seeing Jaskier like this woke up something primal within him. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Jaskier took his hands and gently led them away from his chest, down to his belly. Geralt sucked in a harsh breath. He tentatively touched the bump, feeling its weight, its warmth. He used to look at it like it was just strapped onto Jaskier, an alien thing he could ignore. But it was still him. A part of the man he loved so much. And so was the baby growing in there.

He leant in and carefully touched his lips to Jaskier’s belly, below his navel. Jaskier let out a soft sigh. He caressed Geralt’s head. Geralt pressed his face against Jaskier’s stomach with a low whine.

“I wish it was mine,” he whispered, chest constricting. Jaskier carded his fingers through his hair, soothing him.

“But it’s yours, dear heart. It’s ours.”

“I wish I could do this to you,” Geralt sighed, hands slowly exploring the curve of Jaskier’s stomach. “Make you heavy with children. Make you mine.”

“But I’m yours,” Jaskier whispered. He took Geralt’s hand and led it inside his loose pants, to his heated center. Geralt moaned when he felt his arousal.

“This is your doing. How could I be not yours, when you make me feel that way?”

Geralt surged up to kiss him again, swallowing the sweet whimpers that left Jaskier’s lips. His. He was his.

He took Jaskier on his side, pressed close behind him, holding one of his trembling legs in the air. Jaskier made those sweet noises he loved so much, and he felt just as warm and inviting as always. They melted together, in each other’s arms, in each other’s bodies.

Lost in Jaskier, he only noticed Radovid was in the room when he was standing right next to the bed. He flinched. He should have pulled out, scramble back. They were caught. Radovid knew they were still a couple, but it still felt wrong to do it in secret, behind his back.

To his surprise, Jaskier reached up and cupped Radovid’s cheek. The prince leant over him, his pupil’s dilated, lips open. Jaskier whispered something to him he couldn’t make out. He saw Radovid moving closer until his lips touched Jaskier’s. They were kissing. They were kissing while Geralt was still inside Jaskier. This should have been wrong. It should have made his desire fade. But instead, a moan left his lips and his hips moved forward to press himself deeper inside Jaskier.

Radovid lifted his head and looked into his eyes. His eyes were fiery, but not with anger. He let out a soft moan. Geralt looked down to see him stroking himself.

Why this made that fire inside him flare up even harder, he didn’t know. Radovid was now on the bed with them, one hand still touching himself, the other caressing Jaskier’s face. Jaskier twisted his head to suck his fingers into his mouth. Geralt buried his face in Jaskier’s neck as he moved inside him.

Their mixed scents filled the room, and so did their moans. Geralt felt ecstatic as he made love to Jaskier, and while he didn’t do anything with Radovid, he somehow felt like he was making love to him, too. And somehow, it didn’t feel wrong.

Even while he lay there, knotted inside Jaskier, and watching him kiss Radovid, it still didn’t feel wrong. He knew, realistically, that his feelings on the matter will probably change once he came down from his high, once he was released from the sweet confines of Jaskier’s body, and the reality of what this meant will come crashing down on all of them.

Until then, he lay there, breathing in the same rhythm as the other two men, feeling comfortable and just a tiny bit like he belonged, for the first time.