Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Geralt tightened his arms around the warmth against his chest. In turn he felt the arms around his waist tighten in return. The scent of wildflowers and honey filled him with comfort. He felt well rested, no nightmares of the future or past, just rest. 

His eyes opened, that feeling of drowsiness sloughing off with the simple action. He saw Jaskier in front of him. His eyes still closed, his heartbeat steady in his chest. His hair fell across his face in gentle streaks. Geralt would have moved it to better study him had his arms not been in a much more important place. He again pulled Jaskier closer, reminding himself that he was safe, alive, and for the moment, peaceful. 

He couldn’t resist. He moved his hand away from Jaskier’s to tuck some of the hair, offending his view behind his ear. He should be allowed to gaze unobstructed on his own mate. Jaskier stirred slightly and groaned softly as he cuddled closer, his face nuzzling into the pillow. 

Geralt could just see the window behind him, the light just beginning to stream through the glass. The fire had long since died but the furs had trapped their warmth. He should get up. He can see the sun creeping over the tree line and that means he’s already up late but he can’t bring himself to leave. Jaskier had asked him not to leave him to wake up alone and he wouldn’t. 

He could compromise. He had his duties to the keep as well as Jaskier, one did not replace the other. But then he would miss out on this wonderful view. 

“Jaskier.” He stirred again, the eye not pressed into bed opening and focusing on him, a boyish smile spread over his lips. He made quite the picture. 

“Hm?” 

“We have to get up. It is morning.” Geralt's voice held the low growl of disuse and he tried to look as convincing as possible. 

Jaskier shuffled, opening both his eyes and positioning so that he held his head up on his palm. 

“You woke me up...” He looked soft in the moment, fond and appreciative. 

Again Geralt was reminded of how Jaskier could always see right through him even with the little he offered up, all he had to do was try. To let him. To not shut him out again and let him fester in misunderstanding. 

“You told me to.” Geralt responded earnestly with his reasoning. He was still curt but his heart was open now. 

“I did. But- you listened this time.” Geralt returned his arms around Jaskier and pulled him to his chest, so that the bard’s head tucked nicely under his chin. The sting from his remark is another reminder. He felt the vibration in his chest reverberate through him. Again he let himself purr for the bard. 

“Jask…” He sighed but didn’t let go. 

“I have a long way to go to regain your trust but please. I am trying- I am trying.” Geralt closed his eyes, narrowing the world to just the scent of wildflowers and honey and the rabbit heartbeat of his bard. 

“I know.” Jaskier melted into his arms, squeezing him for comfort. 

“It's hard not to take the cheap shot sometimes. I’m such a fickle thing you understand.” He was laughing Geralt found his own mouth betray him in a smile. He felt Jaskier clutch into the back of his shirt and he was suddenly overwhelmed with love. 

Their sparing words meant nothing in the face of this. 

“Do we still have to get up?” Jaskier postured, putting on his most innocent tone. 

“Yes bard.” Geralt felt Jaskier pull away with a sigh, roll his eyes and then immediately shivering with the cold as he slipped from the bed. 

“You could have at least warned me of the chill.” His hands came to his biceps in an effort to keep the cold away. Geralt looked incredulous. 

“I was also under the furs.” Geralt reasoned. 

“Your witcher senses can’t tell the temperature?” Jaskier looked back at him as he pulled on his coat, the cold still seeping through the leather. 

“No, usually you are vocal enough about the cold to tell me.” Geralt’s words had no bite to them. 

“Yes, well, I'm telling you it's cold.” He shivered, his teeth chattering as he put his boots back on. Geralt got up as well, the chill taking his place in bed. Jaskier was right, it was cold. The temperature was dropping with the season and they were starting to get to the thick of it. 

“I’ll light the fire again.” Geralt offered, changing his clothes and pulling on his own boots. 

“No, no. I’m sure the hall will be lit and we are about to leave.” Jaskier reasoned, brushing him off and heading for the door. Geralt followed shortly after. 

“Where will you be today?” Geralt asked, once they were out in the hall. It wasn’t much warmer but the lit torches along the wall gave off enough to stave the chill and inside they were protected from the wind. 

“I have to wash my clothes today. I should bathe as well and then I suppose I will return to the library. I think Vesemir also expects my help with dinner tonight. But I'll be sure to leave room for our training.” Geralt listened mapping out where Jaskier would be in the keep should he need to find him quickly. 

“Hm.” 

“Will you be joining me again?” Jaskier looked hopeful. Geralt nearly sputtered, taking a moment to collect himself at the idea of joining Jaskier in the hot springs. 

“In the library? Once I have done my tasks I will-” 

“No. Will you join me in the hot springs?” Jaskier looked teasing, not desire so to say. Something softer and more playful. 

“I would have thought a noble would scoff at such a scandalous idea.” He got hit for that, a light smack to his arm for calling Jaskier a noble. 

“As if I haven't bathed your ass more than you at this point. I’m saying maybe you should return the favor you brute. And they say I only have sex on the mind.” Jaskier walked off down the fall, leaving Geralt feeling slightly foolish for the images of Jaskier his mind conjured. 

“I didn’t mean-” Geralt tried to defend himself even if he knew Jaskier was teasing him.

“Oh I know what you meant witcher, and after only the first courting gift. What would Yennefer say?” He turned back to him with that same playing smile. 

“She would likely glare or finally turn you into a newt.” Geralt responded. 

“We both know she’s been wanting to since yesterday.” Jaskier laughed, bantering back. 

“Well then, I’ll just have to defend you.” Geralt stepped up to him, meeting him in close eye contact. He caught the slight uptick in his heart beat as he closed in.

“Finally learned how to be a gentleman then? Come to defend my honor. I mean how would I perform with the arms of a lizard or worse an eel.” 

“Eels don’t have arms.” 

“A travesty, I mean how are they to hold a lute.” Jaskier was giggling now. Geralt felt his own smile. He was reminded why he enjoyed his bard’s presence and kicked himself for the time spent away from him and the time he would have to spend away from him.

“I don’t think eels know how to play the lute Jaskier.” 

“How else will they express their musical prowess then Geralt. You have simply not experienced the need to create like I have, I empathize with the eels.” Jaskier deadpanned him and Geralt kept his soft smile. But it was another reminder of how bored Jaskier must be without his own instrument and notebook. 

“Is that how you feel now?” Geralt was suddenly very serious, he had promised himself that he would take care of Jaskier, this was part of that. Which brought up another thing, how much did Jaskier actually have. He didn’t remember anything but his back being brought up. He would have to go through his things and see what he could pull together. 

“Yes well- you said you’d get me another lute so I’m holding out for that.” 

“Hm. There won’t be one here. But there may be blank notebooks in the lab. You’d be welcome to them. Do you need clothing?” Geralt stared him down, the jovialness leaving way for something fonder.

“I can’t do much without my lute dear but I'll take a look anyway, it would be good to start getting some of the stories from your brothers as they might appreciate their own ballads as well. I'm not sure about the clothing, I've not got much, only two changes but I’ve been making due. Access to water at all times has been helping.” Geralt was reminded of the many times Jaskier had complained about feeling gross with nothing to do but wait until they came across a stream or town. 

“The springs are… convenient.” For lack of a better word. 

“Convenient? if I had known you were holding out on hot springs for so long I would have made a bigger fuss about splitting up with you for winter.” 

“You’ve wanted to come up for winter before?” Geralt knew the question was dumb. Jaskier had dropped many hints about coming up with him, all of which Geralt had pretended not to hear or brushed off. Never had Jaskier asked him to come only expressing the desire to meet his family or see the keep one day. Geralt was grateful for that at least, he hadn’t wanted to see the bard’s face fall when he said no. 

Back then, when half the continent hadn’t wanted their heads he had felt that keeping Jaskier away from the witcher keep was the best option. It was his time to relax and recuperate, to see his family again. But now, it was much safer to keep him here. Not only that but soon Jaskier would be part of that family. 

He found his eyes drifting toward the space in the bard’s neck where his teeth would go before dragging himself back to the conversation. Feeling a little ashamed at his wandering mind he tried to re-engage. 

“Geralt.” He had not been subtle. 

“Hm?” 

“Did you hear me?” Fuck. 

“Hm. no.” Jaskier rolled his eyes. 

“I said that yes I would have loved to come up for the winter with you, nearly every year I fantasized about you asking me. But I think now that I got lucky with how little I knew. If Reince had gotten to me and I had known where you all were…” Geralt frowned as Jaskier trailed off. 

“Well- it doesn’t bear thinking about. I’m here now and since you’ve given me another scrap of attention, however long that lasts. I’ll be sticking around, at least for the winter.” Geralt’s frown deepened. He could see what the bard was doing. He was trying to distract Geralt from his fear but he was forgetting how much his face portrayed in the presence of those he trusted. 

He was scared. Terrified that had he pushed hard enough, come to Kear Morhen and then been kidnapped, he would be responsible for the following attack. It didn’t matter, of course it didn't, Reince had found them anyway despite Jaskier’s inability to provide the correct information. 

“No, you shouldn’t be thinking about it. It’s over. Jaskier, he’s dead.” Geralt let his hand hold just above Jaskier’s elbow. He saw the bard’s eyes focus there, grounding him and taking him away from the spiral of thoughts Geralt could see behind his eyes. 

“He’s dead. And you’re here.” Jaskier conceded, taking a deep breath and relaxing slightly. 

“Now shall we see what the lovely Vesemir has made for breakfast?” Geralt snorted, Vesemir rarely made them breakfast, it would likely be left over bread, maybe jerky if they could find any of it. Jaskier was well aware of this. 

Geralt simply followed him out of the corridor and into the great hall, letting his arms fall to his side. 

After eating in relative silence, with little excitement. The only thing of note was that Jaskier had pressed his knee into Geralt’s as they sat next to each other. Something so small he might have missed it on any other day. Jaskier was always touchy. He got close to Geralt with casual touch in a way no one else dared. Even when he had been with Yennefer she had provided touch in only a sexual context. 

Her grazing fingertips were carefully placed to suggest what she wanted, while his… His were just because he wanted to. Flicking a piece of viscera off of him, a pat on the shoulder, a hand on his back as he moved around him. Something as simple as a hug that never suggested he expected anything more. 

After the mountain, those long weeks spent so close to the bard without the feeling of closeness. He realised now that this was missing. Jaskier had kept his distance, still not afraid of him but not quite comfortable in his presence. Not comfortable enough to touch him. Now, beyond the comfort he provided in the lab or the warmth of their bed. He saw Jaskier opening up, accepting his presence in his life again. 

It kept him going through the day, even after he saw Jaskier out and watched him walk back toward the library. He promised to join him in the springs after his training but for now…

Geralt stalked into the kitchen, spotting the antlers he had carefully severed and separated while butchering. They would make for a study handle. Although Geralt had no idea how to forge he could sort through the multitude of dagger blades in the keep and take from that. Of course it would need to be buffed and sharpened to make an effective blade. 

But the focal point would be the handle. He looked over the set, picking out the section he wanted to use and quickly getting to work at cutting it. Shaping and preparing the handle took the better part of an hour. Carving small buttercups at the top and bottom, even longer. But when it was finally finished it looked good. Simple but nice. The decorative nature didn’t subtract from the effectiveness of the weapon. 

The ridges of the antler would make for a good grip and the buttercups suited Jaskier. He hadn’t planned to add anything else to the blade. It would be a simple handle and blade with no other attachments, although he suspected there would be several adjustments made to it by the time Jaskier got comfortable with it. 

He smiled down at the small handle in his palm, something so small with such large meaning. It made his heart swell with something he couldn’t identify, but made him smile all the same. 

Then he wrapped it carefully in cloth and hid it inside his room before heading to training, Ciri was waiting for him. 

He found the other witchers as well as Ciri gathering there as well. He was surprised to see Yennefer there. Jaskier is still in the library no doubt. She gave him a smile which also surprised him but he returned it with a nod. There was no reason not to be civil and it's not as if she would leave any time soon. 

“Ah Geralt! Finally come to join us then.” Lambert called out from where he stood. 

“Thought he would be off hiding with his bard after yesterday.” Lambert continued, whispering to Ciri who giggled slightly. Geralt felt the flare of confusion at what was meant to be a barb at him. He hadn’t told them his true intention but he had thought that the other witchers would have been able to understand it. He wasn’t sure about Yen or Ciri but at least the other witchers could see the meaning behind such a gesture. 

“I’ll be seeing him later” was all the response he gave, not missing the way Yennefer rolled her eyes at him from across the ground. He ignored it. If she said anything else he would defend his mate but there was no reason to pick fights over something as petty as an eye roll. Despite everything in him telling him to react, if not for the display yesterday for the way she spoke to him in the lab. What had led to all this.

“Don’t let Vesemier know what you’re doing.” That snapped his attention back to his younger brother. 

“What.” 

“Well you know- I mean… uh.” It was clear he had been mostly joking and was now trying to backtrack as he saw Geralt’s demeanor change. 

“He means that Jaskier is sort of breakable. Ordinary, when compared to your previous exploits.” Yennefer helpfully filled in. The face of confusion Lambert wore made it clear that was nowhere close to what he was thinking. Geralt’s eyes snapped to Yennefer, she was standing now. One hand across her waist and the other resting on it, as if she was explaining something obvious. 

“Beakable.” Geralt repeated with as much incredulous cynicism as he could. Leveling her with a stare that dared her to continue. She of course, did. 

“That’s how I would describe him. I mean he is a bard so it's not an insult, that's just how they are dear.” That made him bristle. This sort of condescending tone was the same he heard in the lab. An insult immediately followed by reasons as to why he shouldn’t feel insulted. If this had been going on for the weeks they had been here, Jaskier must be exhausted. 

“I mean that's fair, you did have an affair with a princess and the two witches.” Lambert continued, shutting up at the glare Geralt sent him for it. 

“Breakable is not the word I would use.” Geralt felt his tone drop with the word. No one here had seen Jaskier like he had, how resilient and brave he was. Years and years spent on the path right alongside him with the only complaint being that he couldn’t come on more adventures. Nor had they been there for the quiet moments of confession Geralt had so often brushed off, only half listening to the horrific tales of his childhood Jaskier told him.

No, Jaskier was anything but breakable . That's why he had chosen him.

“Well it’s my word against yours then.” She smirked at him, the surface level playfulness doing nothing to conceal her meaning behind the words. Geralt could feel the very thin wire of patience shredding as her icy words cut through him, toward his intended mate. 

“Then you might put less value on the weight of your word.” He said carefully. The others were silent now, even Ciri sensing the tension between the two. Yennefer fixed him with a chilling stare, not feeling at all threatened by him. She never did. Had she wanted to, she could leave at any moment, letting the witcher’s chase after a closing portal. 

The way Yennefer didn’t fear Geralt was not from a place of vulnerability but from a sense of power over him. She knew she held the winning deck and therefore trusting him with something as mundane as vulnerability was beneath her. It's why he had never seen her cry, why there had never been anything close to comfort between them. It was heated passion, silence, anger and apologies. But nothing more.

“Oh piss off Geralt. If he’s so unbreakable why do you come rushing to his aid at every silly jab.” Geralt felt exasperation take its place next to the anger. 

“I will when he isn’t here to do it himself.” Geralt responded, shutting down her attempt to shame him. 

“And Jaskier may not be a witcher but he’s far from breakable.” Lambert piped up reentering the conversation. 

They both turned to him for this. Of course Geralt knew how strong Jaskier was, both physically and mentally but it surprised him that the others would have noticed. 

“Caught him one time in the springs, nice catch Geralt. Bards got muscle to em.” Lambert chidded, forcing a possessive tug through Geralt’s core. Yennefer just scoffed. 

“There is more to being strong than a cut figure. I could cut you all down from where I'm standing.” 

“That's power. Not strength.” Geralt corrected, earning another huff from the witch. 

“Semantics. Would you like me to have said that Jaskier is a less powerful man then your previous prospects. Although, with little more character than a noble’s toy, he might hold some sway over those he’s bedded. Clearly he has recently gained that power over you.” That slight tug of protectivity felt more like a yank now as anger clouded him. Who in their right mind could ever look at Jaskier and think such disgusting things. His mind flew back to what he had heard from her that night in the lab. Calling his mate a dog, a pet. Something to be tossed around and then thrown away. It blinded him. 

“Do not speak about him as if he is lesser than you. Witch. Jaskier is mine now. His well being, his dignity, my responsibility. He is my family more than you ever have been. If that simple jab upsets you I'm sure I can find another sorcerer to teach Ciri.” His mind screamed at him to rip into her for her scorching words. That simply telling her she was replaceable here wasn’t enough. Part of him wished for her to see the soft touches and crasping hold he had over the bard, to sear itself into her mind to remind her that Geralt had never belonged to her. 

The others still looked at them now, the witcher’s fully understanding what he had meant and sensing how deep their connection was. That had to be enough. Enough of a claim to satisfy him for now.

She stared at him, disbelief evident on her face. Overwriting that smug poker face that allowed for the illusion of control, disappearing behind her surprise. The other witchers were silent but the spreading feeling of resolve that came over them was pliable. 

Geralt had just identified Jaskier as his family, his mate, his friend, his conquest. Whatever it meant, he was with Geralt and that meant he was with them. Now Yennefer not only attacked Jaskier with her words but the witcher keep as a whole. 

She seemed to sense it too, her eyes shifting from Geralt to Lambert to Coen to Eskel and back again. They all faced her now, no one looked to Geralt. They didn’t need to. What she would say next would determine their reaction. As a pack, as a family. 

Geralt felt Lambert tense next to him, sensing the same thing he did. He could see it in Yennefer too, the way they silently rallied against her in a moment, at a single word. 

She gave one last look before disappearing back into the keep, leaving them alone to continue that morning’s training. The tension in the air dissipated after that and Geralt turned his attention back to Ciri and the others. Watching them laugh and joke about whatever came to mind as Ciri thrived in the environment. 

If only Jaskier was here with him. Then this picture would be whole. His mind turned back to his bard and the evening that he was promised and something warm stirred in him. It was these thoughts that distracted him from Eskel appearing to his side. 

The other witcher looked at him and Geralt raised an eyebrow to acknowledge that he had seen him. 

“So that bard?” Eskel started. He knew this conversation would have to happen eventually and just after that display? Asking the other witchers to defend his choice in mate, it would happen sooner rather than later.

“Yes.” He kept his answers short. Letting Eskel know only what he asked for. 

“You’re courting him. That was the display with the food last night.” 

“Hm.” 

“Well then. Lambert owes me a good amount of money.” Geralt frowned at that response. He had not expected his brothers to speculate beyond anything that he had told them. It's not as if he told them when he had gotten with Yennefer. They had known the existence of Renfri but those tales centered around his newly earned title as the butcher. Neither of those exploits he had ever felt the need to share, he had never planned on either of them meeting his brothers and Vesemir. Jaskier was different. Geralt had spent nearly every winter since they met complaining and laughing about the bard, silently wishing for spring to come faster so that he could meet up with him again. 

Clearly the others had noticed. It would explain the looks his mentor had been giving him. 

“You… betted on my… love life?” Said with as much disinterest and disappointment as Gerelt could muster. 

“Well I mean none of the others seem to have so much drama surrounding them in theirs. Unless you count that one time when Adien bought out an entire brothel.” Gerelt huffed a laugh at his brother’s antics. 

“I’d drink to that.” Geralt joked. If anything the complexity of his exploits as Yennefer had called them, was entirely his own fault. He had his intended mate in front of his face for years and yet it had only taken losing him for that to finally sink in. Perhaps if he had been less stubborn… well it didn’t bear thinking about now, they were here, Jaskier had accepted his courtship. As long as he didn’t screw it all up again, they would be fine. 

“What Yennefer said… about Jaskier? Thats- not how we all feel about him.” Eskel reassured him unprompted. Geralt had wondered that for a moment, with how callously Yennefer had dropped such disgusting drivel. But then, seeing his packmate’s display, he knew he had been wrong. 

“I know. Besides, if you had, you’d all be lucky he wasn’t here. I have not known Jaskier to ever back down from a verbal spar.” Geralt huffed, getting a smile from Eskel and a challenging look from lambert. 

“Something I'm sure we’d lose.” Coen pipes up with a hearty laugh. 

“Not much use for it on the path, I’m a little out of practice." Eskel agrees and Geralt gets the distinct feeling that his brothers have taken to heart that Jaskier is part of them now. That he isn’t an outsider to be looked down upon. He knows it won’t be enough to stave off Jasker’s insecurities, at least not yet. But it will go a long way to helping him. Even Ciri seems to be relaxing during the conversation. Honestly Geralt is surprised Yennefer was so vulgar in front of her. 

The rest of the training passes easily and they are all left sweaty and tired by the end of it. Geralt’s mind wanders back to his bard, waiting in little to nothing by the hot springs with soft soaps and oils, his clothes hung to dry nearby. His brothers give him an irritated look as he probably reeks of lust now. 

He sends Ciri to clean up and go help the others with their things as he goes off to find Jaskier, collecting his own change of underclothes as he passes by the room.

Just as he thought, Jaskier is lounging in the warm water, a bucket and sponge off to the side and most of his two sets of clothes laid out on the stone. The bard’s hair is wet and slicked back as his head rests on the edge of the spring. 

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s gentle voice pulls him from a slight doze. He sleepily turns to look at the witcher who has already begun laying his clothes to the side. Jaskier watches hungerily as the last piece of clothing drops and Geralt steps in with him. Jaskier is not naked, his undershorts the only thing keeping him decent. 

The bard slides up to him as if the water weren’t warm enough. He tucks his arm around Geralt’s bicep and rests his head on the witcher’s shoulder. Geralt feels honored, letting his hand rest on  the bard’s thigh. 

“How did training go?” Geralt hums in appreciation at the small talk. 

“It was fine, you’ll want to know that the other witchers won't be giving you any more trouble.” Jaskier hums into a giggle, imagining exactly how that happened. 

“Didn’t I tell you you needn’t defend my honor? I can only imagine the growly expression you made as you said something like ‘he’s mine now.’” Jaskier had a terrible impression of him. Geralt grumbled and looked away, remembering those exact words leaving his mouth in possibly that tone. Jaskier pulled away to look him in the eyes again and full belly laughed as he realised why Geralt looked so sheepish. 

“You totally did, didn’t you!” Geralt turned back with a huff but one look at Jaskier’s face had him softening. It was always like this. 

“You should also know that Yennefer was there.” Jaskier’s laughter died down but he didn’t stop smiling. Geralt’s heart fluttered, clearly it was a sign that he had proven to his mate that there was no threat to them. Where Jaskier had previously thought him to run off with the witch at the first opportunity, now he looked more relaxed. 

“And? I’m sure she had something to say.” Geralt really didn’t want to repeat the words, he had no doubt Jaskier had heard them many times before and repeating them would do nothing but worsen his mood. 

“Yes.” 

“Well then, I’m sure you did a wonderful job defending me witcher. Although next time I would like to be there. It’s not that I doubt your skills as a wordsmith but I fear it is my job after all.” Geralt hummed in agreement, even if he would rather Jaskier never hear another negative thing about him in his life. But he also knows that Jaskier relishes in getting the last word in. 

“I think so, perhaps you’re rubbing off on me.” Jaskier’s hand slips over his under the water and Geralt latches on to it immediately. Almost as if he had been waiting to do the exact same thing, but just couldn’t find the courage. 

“You teach me how to fight and I’ll teach you to use your words. I’ll settle for that compromise. As long as you keep talking to me witcher, I- I think we’ll be alright.” Geralt turns to him insincerity and watches as the weight of their commitment washes over his bard. They are not mated, not yet, but when they are. When Geralt sinks his teeth into plush skin and growls out possessive words that he can never take back, they will be ok. 

He reaches out to pull Jaskier into his lap and the bard doesn’t protest, leaning back against his chest with a heavy sigh. It’s nice and warm and mimics their sleeping arrangements quite nicely. 

“I’ll have another gift for you after dinner.” Geralt mentions, closing his eyes and letting his nose press into Jaskier’s shoulder. He feels the slight shudder of the bard under his attention. 

“Why mention it if you’re not going to tell me what it is?” Jaskier laughs. 

“I want you excited.” He smells so lovely when he’s excited. He doesn’t quite say that but he does take a deliberate inhale with the words as the lovely scent overpowers the scent of salt in the stones. 

“You tease.” Jaskier huffs and lets his head fall back onto Geralt’s shoulder, leaning away from his lover’s nose to give more room. Geralt takes the invitation, nosing up along his pulse point to behind his ear where he blows a short breath, making Jaskier giggle. 

“Have you finished washing your clothing?” Jaskier eyes open sleepily and look over to the pile of clothes drying. It’s really not much. Two shirts, one pair of pants and two sets of undergarments. His coat is the only thing that’s dry, having not been washed at all. 

“Yes, I'm afraid it’s a pitiful sight compared to what I used to own but this routine will have to last me the winter.” Jaskier sighs, still looking over his strewn items. 

“I will get you more. Dublets will be hard to come by here but the shirts I can do. Pants and undergarments as well. You needn’t wash them so frequently.” 

“Not that you seem to mind me sitting half naked in the spring.” Jaskier jokes, letting his fingers trail along the arm around his waist. 

“No, I certainly don’t mind.” 

“Hm, maybe I should invite you with me more often. Honestly I would have done it before If I had known that you were so liberal with your nudity.” Jaskier squirms in Geralt’s lap for emphasis and Geralt huffs lightheartedly and pulls him closer. 

“Weren’t you just going on about how much you’ve washed me? Were you not looking then too?” Jaskier scoffs at the implication that he was sneaking peaks at his very much friend back then. 

“...well maybe a few. It’s not my fault you have so much to show off. And if you think I haven’t caught you staring at me once or twice… you’re not as sneaky as you think, Geralt.” Jaskeir replies with a new air of confidence. Geralt basks in it. This is how it should be. His bard with his chest held high. Laughing and joking with his arms around him. He only wished he had known it sooner. 

“I looked a lot more than once or twice bard." Geralt speaks into his neck and he almost feels Jaskier’s blush crawl over him. He desperately wants to kiss it off him, to taste that wonderful excitement and slight embarrassment. He definitely smells the lust off of him. It's warm and hot and perfect. 

“Yes well, I’m hard not to look at, dear. You should see me after a show.” Jaskier quickly recovers. 

“I have, why do you think I’m so anxious to get you, your lute back.” 

“Oh for entirely selfish reasons. Just another brutish thing you do, hm?” 

“You look radiant when you sing Jask. When you perform and you love it. Not in those stuck up mansions for those who can barely understand your lyrics, but in those gritty taverns where people might throw the coins at you if they’re drunk enough.” Jaskier is silent now and Geralt takes his moment. Kissing ever so lightly to the nape of Jaskier’s neck. It’s soft and wet with water and Jaskier tenses under him before relaxing again. 

“I’m only sorry I won’t get to see it until spring.” 

“You truly are just a sap aren’t you Geralt… Thank you for this.” Before Geralt can ask what he means Jaskier continues. 

“For trying… I can hear it in your voice that this is unusual for you but. Geralt is making all the difference. To finally know what is in that head of yours rather than guessing. It’s- I… I can’t express to you enough how much it means to me.” Geralt can tell, he sees the way Jaskier shakes with joy when he speaks like this, soft and slow and sincere. He wants to give his bard that feeling for the rest of their time together. He wants it to be the only feeling that Jaskier ever has again. After all the shit they have been through, it’s what he deserves. 

“I want you, Jaskier. I- It’s hard… but- you make it easier.” And Jaskier accepts that. It’s all he asks for. That and maybe more of these naked cuddles. The small bard feels his heart swell with pride for his witcher. How far they have come and how far they have left to go. It still amazes him. 

“Good.” 

They stay like that for a little while. Just sitting and talking. Bantering back and forth as Geralt fills in his bard on all the progress that Ciri has made. Jaskier listens and adds his own thoughts. Telling Geralt how the library is shaping up. Geralt listens back and promises to help him more through the winter. Jaskier laughs at him for this, telling him that he doesn’t need an excuse to spend time with him.

By the time they get out and dressed Jaskier’s clothing is mostly dry and Geralt refuses to let him dress in damp clothing during the winter, instead dressing himself and going to get the bard a set of his own clothing. 

They separated for dinner and Geralt found the time he needed to to put together his second courting gift. Digging through blades and blades until he found one that only needed a little bit of work. He broke off the handle with a little effort and got to sanding away the remaining wood. 

Then attaching his own antler handle and sticking it in place with a mixture of tar and sap that the witchers used. Then he wrapped the hilt, to hold it together as the mixture dried. He had never found a more effective way to combine a blade and handle. It would serve Jaskier well. 

As he dried he set out to work sharpening the blade. He would get Jaskier a sheath for it soon but the blade was the important gift. It was long and thin with a slight curve that seemed to arch into the light whichever way he turned it. It reminded him of the bard. 

He spent a few hours apart from Jaskier just working on this, preparing it for after dinner. By the time the blade was done, it was sharp enough to cut paper and Geralt gazed upon his handiwork with pride. He tied a blue ribbon over the hemp rope he had used at the hilt to make it suit a prettier picture. The buttercups stood out on the handle with the gradient in antler and the blade shown, reflecting the blue ribbon. 

He left it on top of his dresser for then they would both return after their personal training. A sudden excitement playing with a smile on his lips. He felt… giddy? Something he had possibly never felt before in his entire life. Long life as it was. 

He wore that slight giddyness like a fucking badge of honor all the way through till training. Even if he did little more than smile at Jaskier about it. Jaskier, who knew exactly what it was about, did a little more than that. 

Cuddling up to him as much as was appropriate, their hips touched, at the dinner table. And nudging him whenever he was talking in order to brush up against Geralt again. Each time Geralt would feel that familiar flutter in his chest and lean in closer to his bard. 

If his brothers noticed, he didn’t care. He was too busy listening to his bard and daughter speak over their respective days and slightly embarrassing stories about him and the other witchers. He couldn’t care less. Just happy to be finally surrounded by his entire pack all at once. Yennefer was nowhere to be seen but he didn’t notice. Jaskier did in a silent moment of victory but he didn’t say anything. 

Then finally when they were alone at the end of the day, walking back to their shared room after training. Jaskier looks absolutely delicious in Geralt’s blackshirt, sweat slicked and delighted at how well he had done today. Geralt too was impressed with the little bard. Trying and finding a new weapon that might work. 

A rapier. It fit his bard so well that he almost wished he had crafted one rather than the dagger, even if his reasoning for the dagger was sound. His bard needed a small weapon to conceal in times of need and this gift would fit that need. It was also much better than the shoddy thing he had seen Jaskier use before. 

Safe to say, he was very excited for Jaskier to see it. 

Jaskier hung off his arm as he chatted to the witcher. He hadn’t mentioned the gift since the spring but there was an extra bounce to his step that told Geralt his bard was just as excited as he was. It was nice. 

“Alright enough suspense witcher. You’ve been a tease all day, I’ve half a mind to punish you for it.” Jaskier hooded his eye as he said it, giving a seductive implication, and Geralt hummed at the obvious j oke. H e   imagines exactly what his bard thinks a punishment for this would be. Perhaps singing again, long and loud, just like usual. Geralt would give anything to hear his song bird chirp again. 

“Close your eyes.” Jaskier grins at him and does just that. With Geralt’s hand over his on his arm, it's easy to lead the suspecting bard into their room and close the door behind them. He leads his chosen to the dresser and lets go of his hands for a moment to grab the dagger. 

Bringing Jaskier’s hand up, palm up he presses his thumb there. Starting with small circles as Jaskier’s face twitches in confusion. Then satisfied with the reaction Geralt places the heavy hilt into his hand, waiting until Jaskier closes his fist before letting go. 

He doesn’t have to say anything before Jaskier opens his eyes and looks down at his hands. His expression is exciting as he takes in the work of art that is his second courting gift. His hands trail over the hilt as he memorizes each detail of the rough antler. It will make for a good grip without cutting into his palm. 

“It’s beautiful Geralt.” Geralt warms under the praise. Jaskier keeps looking at it, like he can’t look away. 

“It’s- It’s the same deer? Y-you took the antler from the same deer didn’t you.” Geralt can only hum an affirmation. Jaskier looks like he might cry. His eyes water as he looks up into Geralt’s eyes. Then in an instant Jaskier is on him, holding him around the waist in a trapping hug. 

Geralt only hesitated a little bit when hugging back, feeling the soft hum of his bard in response. 

“It’s the same deer, something more… permanent than a meal.” Geralt spoke and Jaskier hummed again. 

“It’s perfect Geralt. Thank you.” Geralt tucks his head into Jaskier’s neck. It’s perfect, he thinks. 

“By the end of winter I’ll be able to use it.” Jaskier’s voice wobbles slightly and Geralt hums again. He plans to ensure that his bard is very capable with it before they make for the trail again. 

“Yes, you will.” 

“I’ll keep it on me at all times. Geralt.” 

“I’ll have to get you a sheath for it first.” 

“Spoiling your next gift?” 

“No, we’ll go to a market for that. I’m not much of a leather smith and I imagine you’ll have a preference for how it looks.” Geralt huffs and jaskier chuckles. 

“You’re right, it’ll have to match my outfits of course.” Jaskier pulls away but doesn’t let his hands drop from Geralt’s waist. One still grips the dagger, angling it away from Geralt’s body so as to not nick him. 

“It really is perfect Geralt, I can’t believe you made this for me.” He holds it in front of him again, thumbing over the buttercups as the trail in a spiral around the handle. 

“They’re buttercups…” Jaskier sighs something long and sleepy. It holds so much weight in just those words and Geralt understands everything Jaskier is telling him. 

“They’er perfect.” Geralt replies. Jaskier smiles down at the handle but Geralt only looks at Jaskier. 

They both know what he means. 

Geralt reaches out to hold onto Jaskier’s arms, and his bard looks back to him. 

His bard, his world. 

They stay like that for a long time. Not so much talking but Geralt does explain how he made it. Jaskier is thoroughly impressed by the craftsmanship and reties the ribbon into a more suitable grip just under the hilt rather than a bow. 

As they get ready for bed the bard tucks it away in his bag for safe keeping before joining his witcher in their bed. Their place to be warm and feel comfortable. He babbles on about the dagger for a while before Geralt’s warm embrace inevitably puts him to sleep. Just like usual. 

Just like normal. 

He’s not sure when this became what he expected of each night but he’s glad he does now. It’s a wonderful feeling. Geralt is going to hang onto it for as long as possible. 

As long as his bard will let him.