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tears-and-smiles-ao3 · 2 years ago

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Petals In A Storm

Chapter 10: An afternoon in the library

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Sam hummed, placing Eskel’s plate underneath his own after the witcher had left. He then turned towards him and Jaskier, despite keeping his eyes on his own plate, could feel Sam watching him.

No doubt wondering if he was going to eat any more of his sandwich, which he wasn’t. He didn’t feel hungry any more.

“Why don’t you tell me what books you want moved and I’ll do that while you eat,” Sam suggested.

“What? No,” Jaskier spluttered, almost choking on the small bite of bread in his mouth. “Let me help, please.”

He grabbed the cloth and wrapped his bread underneath it. Despite Sam raising an eyebrow at him, Jaskier hoped they wouldn’t have an argument about it.

“Don’t look at me like that. We can move the books together, and I’ll eat it later. I promise.”

Sam nodded his head and followed Jaskier, holding out his arms to carry books back and forth. It was a complicated list: a few books there, those three here, the rest on the table, please and thank you.

It was tiring work and they had both worked up a sweat over the last hour, moving further into the depths of the library, down one of the narrow corridors lined with stacks of books.

Despite all the work they had done, it still didn’t look like they had made any progress.

“This is awful.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, holding an arm full of books and waiting on a few more before he set off again. Jaskier hummed, considering the book in his hands. Should it go in the botany pile or flora pile?

He was deep in thought, not even aware that he had moved, when his foot slipped and he crashed into a large stack of books behind him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he collasped onto the floor. His back was in agony, but he barely had time to think about that when a thunderous noise started.

A chain reaction was happening all around them. Books were falling into a large pile on top of Jaskier, and all around him. One heavy book landed on his left leg with a thud and he howled in pain.

“Jaskier!” Sam screamed, scrambling and throwing books aside to get to him.

“Fucking- OW,” Jaskier exclaimed at the top of his voice. He watched almost blindly as Sam pulled books away to get him free, and the look of worry in his eyes made Jaskier gulp. That had been a close shave, hadn’t it?

Worse still was the realisation that they were now trapped in the rear of the room with no way out. There wasn’t even a window over here.

Grunting loudly, Jaskier wrapped his hand around his throbbing leg. He didn’t want to let go of it, even when Sam protested that he needed to look at it.

It hurt but it wasn’t as bad as other injuries he’d had in the past, and for that Jaskier was thankful.

“I’m okay,” he deflected, trying to stop Sam fussing over him. “I can get up.”

Sam hummed, watching as Jaskier winched while he stood up, but decided not to say anything about it.

Looking at the mess, Jaskier could now see there was no way out. Their original route out of the library was now blocked.

“Fuck, I am such an IDIOT!” Jaskier screamed.

“Hey, it’s fine, it’s fine.” Sam tried to placate him, wrapping his arms around him, but Jaskier shook him off.

“It’s not. Look what I’ve done. I’m pathetic. Can’t do anything right.”

Sam was silent while Jaskier stared moodily at the sprawl of books around them. This was just another way that he had fucked up. It will take them hours to get the books tidy enough to be able to get out of the library.

“We can try another way,” Sam suggested quietly, pointing at another narrow corridor heading deeper into the library.

Jaskier frowned. Do they really want to head deeper into the library? Was it really better to try than just sit here, defeated?

“It’s probably not worth it,” Jaskier eventually objected, even as he knew exactly what Sam would say in response.

“We have to try. Come on. Please,” Sam begged. Jaskier looked at him for the first time directly since this thing had happened, taking in his pleading eyes, the concerned look in his eyes.

“It might not lead anywhere,” Jaskier said.

“I want to try. Will you come with me, please?” Sam urged.

“Okay.”

Jaskier fell into line behind Sam, following him between the thin corridor that snaked deeper into darkness. They walk for a long time, squeezing themselves through the books, and all the while Jaskier’s leg continues to throb. Fuck, hopefully it’s just bruised and nothing more.

The deeper they go, the darker it gets. The stench of musty books was stronger here, having never been touched in millenia. At some point, Jaskier ends up taking the lead, with Sam trailing behind.

“In a way, it would be easier just to let this all burn,” Sam mused. Jaskier glanced back at him, scoffing.

“What? No! You can’t do that to books,” he cried out. “Imagine if I burned down the kitchen.”

“Kitchens go on fire all the time,” Sam commented. “And you need a kitchen. You don’t necessarily need a library, especially if it is like this.”

Jaskier wanted to disagree, but he couldn’t bring it in him to say so. This was the worst library he had ever been in and that was saying something. The winding corridors felt like they would go on forever, even though the logical part of his brain told him they must either come to a wall or find a way out.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. They were probably going to have to spend the night here at this rate. Jaskier stopped and Sam almost banged into him. His hands came up to Jaskier’s shoulders and he began to rub them, trying to relieve some tension. It didn’t help.

“Maybe we should sit down,” Sam offers. “There’s a small bench over there, though it’s got books on it, of course. We’ll need to move those, but we can sit down. What do you say?”

Jaskier nods, defeated, and then they work in silence as they move the books until they can finally sit down.

It’s quiet once they do. The dust is still settling as they sit together, staring at the books. Jaskier’s hands are gripping on tight to the bench and Sam lays his on top. Just a quiet presence beside him.

Jaskier itches to distract himself, his whole body thrumming with nervous energy. If he could, he would bring out his notebook and write, or pick up a book and read, but it’s so dark. He wouldn’t be able to read a book title in these shadows.

Lifting up his left hand, he lets his fingers run across the books beside him. So much knowledge is hidden away here because no one can find the right books. Such a waste.

This damned library wasn’t just holding the books prisoner. They were doomed to spend who knows how long trapped together in this small space. Perhaps forever.

Jaskier got up and stepped onto the bench and peered over the smallest tower of books. There was nothing to see, nothing that would indicate a way out, an escape. Just shadows.

In the end, he just sat back down beside Sam and lay his head on his shoulder.

Hours passed slowly. Between them, they got up and stretched. They talked little, Jaskier’s mood souring as the minutes passed. He couldn’t stop hoping, wishing that Eskel would return and save them, but he didn’t say as much to Sam.

He couldn’t, and he didn’t know why.

Sighing to himself, he eventually fell to his knees before Sam, who was still seated. He looked up into where he knew those big, brown, confused eyes were and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I got us trapped here,” he admitted. “It’s my fault.”

Sam let his hands rub gently at Jaskier’s scalp as he spoke. “It was probably going to happen to someone at some point. Look at this place.”

Jaskier hummed, indicating he agreed with Sam even if he didn’t really mean it. He ended up with his head laying in Sam’s lap, enjoying the feel of his hands continually running through his hair.

It was comforting, yet the silence was torture to Jaskier’s mind. Voices swirled around, repeating things his father had said, things his tutors said, and the one truly horrible thing Geralt had screamed at him.

If life could give me one blessing…

Maybe he thought Sam would suddenly realise what Geralt had and then he would reject him in the same way by turning his back on him. He tensed under Sam’s touch suddenly and it made the hands stop.

Then Sam spoke.

“I admit I was a little jealous to see you and Eskel so cosy earlier, but that’s on me to deal with.”

“What?” Jaskier squeaked at Sam’s words. He lifted his head, looking up at Sam while tears formed in his eyes.

“I don’t know what exactly is going on, and we should discuss that, but I can see the way he looks at you.”

“The way he looks at me?” Jaskier repeated, turning it into a question. Who exactly he was asking, he didn’t know, but he tried to think of all the times he had been in the same room, or corridor, as Eskel.

“Yes, the way he looks at you. The way you look at him, too. I guess I always worried that I might not be needed anymore. That there would come a day you wouldn’t want me.”

Jaskier couldn’t even respond, he just clutched harder at Sam, leaning further into him and burying himself deeper and deeper into his chest. He sobbed while Sam’s hands encircled him again, his fingers running up and down his back soothingly.

He didn’t want to lose Sam. He couldn’t lose Sam, but here he was fucking things up once more. Thinking about it just made him sob harder.

It took him a long time to realise that he could hear Sam humming something as he rubbed along his back. Something about it was familiar.

It took even longer for Jaskier to realise it was the song from last night. When he did, he gasped and pulled back, bracing himself to look into Sam’s eyes.

“That song. It’s ours. Love, do you still- still want to be with me, after all this?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that answer, but the way Sam looked at him, he hoped that he did.

“Love, of course I do,” Sam assured. He leaned down, tilting Jaskier’s chin up, and kissed him. His lips were so tender, and Jaskier let it take over him. He let his tears fade away.

It was completely dark and very cold by the time they heard a distant voice shouting their names. Sam stirred, shouting back, and that’s what made Jaskier get up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Where are you?” Eskel’s muffled voice comes from across the room.

“Back here,” Sam called out in response, and Jaskier can’t help but hope that it means they can leave this place soon. The misery of these forgotten books is a constant dull ache, one that he would rather not look at again for a while. He knows that won’t happen. He can’t let these books go to rack and ruin.

“Shit,” he hears Eskel exclaim. It sounds quiet but it must be loud if Jaskier can hear it.

“What is it?” Sam asks loudly. He’s standing on the bench now, trying to see the witcher but it must be impossible in the shadows of the room.

“I think,” Eskel calls back, “I think there is another way. Let me try.”

Jaskier slumps, leaning against Sam’s legs. He knows this will take longer than he wants it too. His stomach is ravenous and he desperately wishes he had eaten the bread Sam brought him earlier.

Sam braced one hand on a bookcase and let his other ruffle through Jaskier’s hair while they waited. There’s nothing to really listen to, a witcher’s steps almost silent, and all Jaskier can hear is the dull thud of his heart.

“I think there is a way,” Eskel’s voice looms nearer and Jaskier shakes himself and gets up to stand. He’s about to join Sam on standing on the bench when the witcher rounds the corner.

“Hello,” Eskel greets them, almost conversational, and Jaskier runs towards him, an urge to reach out and wrap his arms around him, but then he looks back at Sam and uncertainty flickers across his face.

“Thanks for finding us,” Sam said appreciatively, getting his feet back on the ground and walking over to them.

For a long moment, they all just seem to stare at one another, but then Sam speaks again.

“Can you take us out of here? I fear this one is going to starve to death if he doesn’t eat soon.”

Eskel frowned, taking in Jaskier’s appearance. He could feel Eksel’s eyes appraising him, his sight clear thanks to his witcher mutations, then he turned back to Sam.

“Follow me. I can’t put a lamp on in case we burn all these books, but if you stay close, I can get you out quickly.”

Jaskier let out a sigh of relief. He couldn’t help it, his nerves had been twisting inside him for hours now. Sam patted him on the shoulder, and Jaskier knew he was trying to reassure him that he wouldn’t actually have carried out his earlier threat.

It was slow progress following the witcher through the many stacks of books that made up the pathways through the room. It felt like they doubled back on themselves at least three times before they emerged at the door. Jaskier heaved another sigh of relief, rushing out into the hallway to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I’ve never felt so claustrophobic as that,” he grimaced, gulping down as much fresh air as he could. For a long moment, he just remained bent over and breathing heavily.

At some point, he felt better to stand up. When he turned around, Sam was resting his head against the wall like it was a novelty to just be able to lean.

Eskel’s eyes darted back and forth between them, his brow creased in concern.

“Do you both need to rest a bit? I could bring some food from the kitchen.”

“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to,” Sam said, answering first before Jaskier could, but then right on cue, Jaskier’s stomach growled loudly.

“Well, I think that gives you my answer,” he chuckled.

When they got to the kitchen, Eskel directed them to sit down at a small table while he immediately set to work making up a plate of leftovers for each of them. Dinner time had clearly come and gone and Jaskier was feeling quite irked that no one had thought to search for them sooner.

Well, he was irked that clearly Geralt hadn’t cared at all.

It was quiet, just the three of them sitting down together to eat. Eskel tucked into his food quickly, then looked back up to see Sam and Jaskier eating slower. Jaskier was amused to watch Eskel slowly sit up, correcting his posture. He began to chew each mouthful more thoughtfully.

It all felt rather domestic, Jaskier mused, like they were a little family. Just the three of them.

A family of three, huh? That was familiar.

Oh, shit. Jaskier gulped then as his mind helpfully supplied him with a vision of another little family of three: Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri. Had he tried to find his own version?

He looked at Sam, then Eskel. He’s sure he should feel happy if they are his family, and he knows he does in a way, but his heart breaks again thinking of Geralt.

It’s almost a relief when Sam decides they should go to bed, even though he only managed to eat a small bit of the food on his plate.

Eskel nods and cleans up while Sam takes Jaskier’s hands and leads him towards their room.

As soon as they got into bed, Sam turned to look at him. Cupping Jaskier’s cheek, he tilts his face till their eyes are locked on one another.

“You know,” Sam said, “it’s okay if you want to spend time with Eskel. My jealousy is mine to work through.”

“It’s selfish,” Jaskier breathed. He could feel his inner turmoil stir again, his gut clenching uncomfortably.

“It’s also a need you have and I won’t make you miserable.”

“I can do that myself,” Jaskier said sardonically, then he chuckled and Sam laughed too.

Looking back up into Sam’s eyes, he said his next words with care. “I know I am a lot sometimes, but I do love you.”

“I know. You have a big heart, too. You need to remember that.”

Next chapter

#the witcher #jaskier #eskel #sam the baker #jaskel #saskier #jaskier x eskel #jaskier x sam the baker #witcher #jaskier fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #tears-and-smiles-ao3 #my fanfiction

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bardcore-jaskier · 2 years ago

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♡ My thoughts on Veskier + headcanons ♡

- One of the rarest rare pairs in the Witcher fandom for sure! And guess what? I LOVE IT!!!

- They chose the perfect actor to play Vesemir in season 2! Kim Bodnia is a charismatic Danish actor with a charming accent, his performance was AMAZING!

- As of season 2, I personally am a bit cross with most characters in the series for the way they treated Jaskier. Geralt used Jaskier for his loyalty and his apology was shit, so Geraskier prompts/ideas don't come to me as quickly as they used to.

- Lauren went and killed off Eskel, so to cook up some Jaskel content it would have to be an AU where he doesn't die and would require a LOT of creativity not only to make it possible for him to be alive, but also mix and match his personality from video clips of his game counterpart on YouTube, since Eskel didn't get enough screen time on Netflix to show the entirety of his character.

- Lambert was an absolute dick to Jaskier, so Lambskier is rocky too, Lambskier's only saving grace is that Lambert and Jaskier didn't have a lot of scenes together, leaving a lot of room for thinking up ways in which those two could bond.

- WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY CURRENT FAVORITE JASKIER SHIPS: Yennskier (I already made a post about) and of course Veskier!

- Veskier, being a ship of a younger pretty man and an older witcher warrior, has mostly gotten attention from the extremely kinky side of the fandom. Daddy kink, BDSM, dom/sub, breeding kink and other kinks galore. Even more often, this ship is mixed with others in a M/M/M/M/M setting, you know, I know you know, we all have seen the witchersexual!Jaskier tag on AO3. And while I do enjoy a little well written smut from time to time, most of the Veskier fanfics out there do not quite suit my taste.

- Vesemir and our beloved, adorable, brilliant walking sunshine trouble maker of a bard, did not interact in season 2 at all, I doubt that they will ever, with both being side characters. HOWEVER, that makes this pairing FREE REAL ESTATE! Who is to say what is likely and what is not? Who is to say they won't work? Who is to say that they couldn't have gotten together at some point off screen?

- It makes me a little sad that people don't realize just how much potential there is with Veskier! Much like Yennskier, the theoretical romantic relationship between these two, at least going off of Netflix canon alone, would be surprisingly healthy and wholesome.

- Every time I imagine them together, I headcanon Jaskier as not entirely human. Either part-fae or of elder blood.

- Veskier is a perfect ship for emotional healing, for fluff, for the kinky side, for the crack, for happiness!

- FLUFF × CRACK × SMUT × HURT/COMFORT

Let me set the scene

- After Voleth Mier, Jaskier realizes that he somehow ended up in a situation where he lost his precious lute, became a wanted man in Oxenfurt (a city he considered his home), got tortured for information about his ex-bff, then said ex-bff came to bail him out of jail because he needed him, not for the sake of making amends, essentially using Jaskier to find Yennefer and then sending him off with Ciri as a glorified nanny. And here he is, at the top of another mountain, in Kaer Morhen, where Geralt is too busy with Ciri to talk while the other witchers are rude to him. He is penniless, injured, has nothing but the bloodied clothes on his back and is suffering from nightmares about Rience.

- Vesemir is a tired old man who has witnessed too much bloodshed in his lifetime. His body may be enhanced and therefore he doesn't feel the physical effects of aging (if at all) as much as he does the mental. All witchers were human at some point, he can actually feel the psychological toll of living much longer than humans are designed to. Still, he has to be strong as the master of the keep, to set an example and to be a dependable source of wisdom and guidance for his pups. He will never admit it out loud, but the things he has to deal with after Voleth Mier overwhelm him. There's Geralt's whole elder blood child surprise thing, constant repairs of a crumbling fortress, honoring and mourning the fallen witchers, processing the fact that new mutated mosters are appearing and they don't have the mutagens to create more of their kind to protect the continent and survive. There is nothing he can do about it except deal with the anxiety of knowing these stone cold facts.

- In this whole mess, two broken souls might just be what the other needs. Where Vesemir could do with a break, with a little joy, Jaskier is more than enough to help with that. And where Jaskier could do with being taken care of after everything he's been through, after everything he lost, Vesemir is a perfect candidate for that job. Their relationship would be yin and yang, balance and harmony personified.

- Honestly, please tell me that you see it too! They have a lot in common, Jaskier is a professor, mastered the seven liberal arts, grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, music, astronomy and according to canon, he passed every exam with flying colors!

- Vesemir is wise, he has lived for centuries, he has witnessed history, he was trained as an alchemist, has extensive knowledge about many things. He is a bottomless pit of knowledge.

- They could talk for hours together and never run out of topics to discuss.

- And the sex? OH BROTHER! Jaskier fucked his way across the continent countless times, while Vesemir is so ancient there is no way that he hadn't bedded a considerable amount of people. Yeah, the sex would be mind blowing I should think.

- Jaskier is a hopeless romantic and Vesemir is a traditional gentleman (when he is wooing the damsels, according to game!canon Lambert.) They would probably be very fluffy and affectionate with eachother. Verbose compliments, music, cuddling, kissing.

- LMAO, imagine everyone else's reaction!!!

- Geralt would be mortified seeing his friend making out with his father figure on the kitchen table 🤣🤣🤣

- The other witchers would probably feel uneasy, shocked at first too, until they get used to it. HAHA ONCE THEY DO LAMBERT IS GONNA FUCKING MILK IT

"Morning papa Vesemir, papa Jaskier"

- KAER MORONS!!!

- Also, the theoretical adventures a witty traveling part fae bard and a silverfox witcher could have, make me beyond giddy!

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awitcheress · 2 years ago

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Why Jaskel? Is there basis for it in the books or games or is it "just" in fanfic. Honest question and no judgement from me. Curious is all...

#jaskel #the witcher #jaskier #witcher #jaskier x eskel #eskel

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avatarskywalker78 · 1 year ago

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💋

💋do you have any guilty pleasure ships that you really want to write for but are scared to?

Not really? I mean, I'm not sure that I really have any guilty pleasure ships per se. I do have some ships I'm scared to write for - mainly Geraskier and Jaskel - but that's more to do with the fact that I've read so many excellent ones on AO3 and I'm not sure if I could measure up.

(Once upon a time I thought about Lawrusso, but I've come to the conclusion that that is one of those ships I'd rather read about than write about, if that makes any sense.)

Fanfic ask game

#Answering my asks #Thanks for asking!#Fanfic ask game

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dreamingwitcher · 1 year ago

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Hey witcher fans! I finally broke my writer's block and made some major updates on my fanfic. It's got vikings (sorta) and Fae Jaskier and enemies to lovers and eventual Jaskel. And angst. So much angst.

This story is called Black Sails by sheegothbait (nothing to do with the pirate show of the same name.)

if this sounds good to you please go check it out. it would mean the world to me. A heart or a reblog would also be really nice too.

Edit: OH! uh I forgot the tags. Please mind them. This story is rated M for mature audiences.

Warlord Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Part-Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion, Jötnar | Jotuns | Frost Giants (Norse Religion & Lore), Nidhogg - Freeform, Child Death, Viking Burial, monster hunting, Mistaken Identity, Enemies to Lovers, Kidnapping, All the Witcher schools are one in this fic, jaskel, Nonbinary Character, Non-Consensual Drug Use

#the witcher #jaskier #eskel #fanfic #vikings

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flowercrown-bard · 1 year ago

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Final chapter (probably) of the Jaskel fic I stopped writing a year ago is finally up

#jaskel #jaskier #eskel #fic #fanfic #witcher #my writing #jaskierxeskel

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julek · 2 years ago

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some soft, pining jaskel, because i love them. 2K, T, light angst with a happy ending. read on ao3!

Jaskier watches the drizzle fall down on the small town from his perch on the windowsill.

There’s a small square, broken cobblestones and a worn flag pole, no flag to wave proudly in the wind. In the late hours of the evening, no children are playing in it, making up castles and pirate ships out of juniper branches and long scraps of cloth they’ve undoubtedly swiped from a seamstress’ shop. A few couples are walking under the rain, hand in hand, trying to get to the inn as soon as possible, the promise of fire and food lingering in the air.

As if conjured by divine intervention, the door creaks open, and in walks Eskel, armored-up and, apart from slightly muddy, looking very intact, holding two plates of still-steaming stew in his hands.

“Still up?”

Jaskier’s heart squeezes in his chest at the sight.

“I am,” he replies, moving away from the windowsill and sitting down on the bed. “Wanted to wait for you.”

There were drowners in a nearby pond, and Eskel had been contracted to kill them. It’s almost an innocuous task, Jaskier knows, but he can’t help the knot in his stomach each time he pats Scorpion’s neck and bids the Witcher farewell, not knowing whether he’ll witness his return.

(Either because he’s been killed, or because he’s left Jaskier behind).

(Neither option is particularly thrilling).

But here Eskel stands, a lopsided smile on his face as he hands Jaskier his meal — because he knows Jaskier hasn’t eaten, because they eat together, because Eskel makes sure to come back for it — and sits down on the floor to enjoy his own.

“How did it go?” Jaskier says softly in between bites. “Any wayward bastard try to get a chunk out of you?”

Eskel shakes his head, chuckling lowly. “All vital organs in place. It was a small nest.”

Jaskier hums thoughtfully.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Eskel notices, because of course he does. “Did anything happen while I was away?”

“Not at all,” Jaskier says truthfully. “It’s just my poet’s heart, dear. There’s nothing like a rainy night for melancholy to strike.” He aims for a smile. “It’ll pass.”

“Okay,” Eskel replies.

They eat the rest of their meal in comfortable silence, and Jaskier offers to take their bowls down to the barkeep. When he comes back, Eskel’s armor is neatly piled onto a chair and he’s standing in the room shirtless, looking at himself in the small mirror by the table.

“What is it?” Jaskier asks. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Eskel shakes his head, turning his torso slightly to the side. “It’s nothing, little bird. Just checking on the scarring of the ghoul wound from the other day.”

Ah, yes — the one Jaskier had sewn back together. He moves closer to check for himself, and, sure enough, the edges of the scar are bright pink and healing, the knotted skin raised slightly.

He almost brings his hand up to touch it, but takes it back at the last second.

There’s something between them. Something soft and tentative, something he dares not name. It’s been brewing for a while, now — probably since the day they met, when Jaskier’s eyes were full of sorrow and Eskel’s side was bleeding, and their gazes had met with a gentle familiarity that did not belong to strangers, that did not belong to them. It’s probably been there forever, the warmth of those golden eyes that seeps into Jaskier’s skin on the best of days, that mellows his nerves on the worst ones. The sweetness of a smile, the comfort of their hands brushing over a lazily-built fire.

But he can’t name it, can’t give into it. Can’t risk it by leaping too far, by jumping in head-first and breaking his skull on cobblestones — because Eskel is gentle and he is kind, kind enough to softly extricate himself from the all-consuming hurricane of Jaskier’s heart before it all becomes too much; because he would never hurt Jaskier, and that, above all, is what hurts him the most.

So he lowers his hand, and Eskel pulls his shirt back on, and he finds himself saying, “I’m going to bed.”

Eskel nods at him. “I’ll be a minute.”

And that’s when Jaskier remembers that they’re currently in a small inn in the town of Asscrack of Nowhere, which means they’re sharing a bed, because it’s either that or one of them spending the night with Scorpion.

And they’re friends, and they’ve shared before, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

Except Jaskier was right, and his soft plum of a heart cannot ignore a rainy day and pass up on the opportunity to let itself be consumed by the familiar dull ache of heartbreak, and he’s scared the melancholy will leak out of himself and soak the pillows and the bedsheets, and maybe even seep into Eskel’s skin, and he could never forgive himself for making him blue — which is what hurts him the most.

But he doesn’t have time to change his mind, because Eskel is taking off his boots and preparing himself for bed, and Jaskier really doesn’t want to sleep in the stables, so he steels himself for a sleepless night and morose pining.

He lays back on his side of the bed (though it’s so tiny, it practically has but one side) and closes his eyes, feigning tiredness from the day. He feels the dip on the mattress as Eskel lays down as well, but doesn’t feel surrounded by darkness as he should.

He opens his eyes, and Eskel is looking at him.

“What?” He asks, his voice raspy, softer than he intended.

Eskel lays down on his side, really looking at him. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs. “Please.”

His skin is golden brown in the candlelight, his eyes full of genuine concern, and Jaskier loves him so much it hurts to breathe. Their legs are touching, Eskel’s forearm grazing Jaskier’s hand.

It’s too much.

It’s not enough.

“Nothing is wrong,” he lies, because he has to, because he wants to keep this a little longer. Because it’ll be inevitably taken away, sooner or later, and he wants to revel in it a little longer. “I’m fine.”

Eskel, because he knows him, doesn’t buy into his brittle smile. He brings his hand up to Jaskier’s jaw.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” he whispers, his voice low as his thumb brushes against Jaskier’s cheekbone. “Like the light has been pulled out of you. You haven’t been singing.”

He hasn’t — he’s been too worried he’ll spill his heart on a tavern floor in between silly ditties. He couldn’t risk it.

“Listen,” Eskel says, pulling his hand back. Jaskier misses its warmth immediately. “We can head to a bigger city, tomorrow. I could drop you off in Oxenfurt, if—”

“Drop me off?” Jaskier’s heart skips a beat. He’d thought— he’d thought he’d have more time. “Why?”

There’s a complicated look on Eskel’s face. Pleading, almost. “Jask, it’s obvious you haven’t been feeling yourself lately, and you won’t talk to me about it— I can tell when I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Jaskier sits up on the bed. “Overstayed your welcome? What are you talking about?”

Eskel mirrors him. “You don’t want to travel with me anymore, and it’s fine, Jask— I can’t say I blame you. This is hardly the glamorous life you’re aiming for.”

Jaskier does not understand. “I’m— you— where did you get that idea?”

Eskel looks uncomfortable. He scratches at his scar. “We… You don’t seem like yourself. You don’t sing around me anymore, and you snap your songbook shut every time I enter the room, and you put as much distance between us as you can. Jask, I— I won’t hold you here against your wishes. You can leave.”

“But I don’t want to leave!” Jaskier says, aware that he sounds a little bit unhinged. “I want to stay with you!”

A frown knits Eskel’s brow, his voice a hushed murmur. “But you won’t let me near.”

“Well, that’s because— because—” He can’t say it, he can’t, but Eskel looks hurt, and he can’t keep hurting him, he won’t— “I want you near.”

“Well, you have a weird way of showing it,” Eskel replies, growing more confused by the minute.

“I want you near,” Jaskier repeats, and takes one of Eskel’s hands in his. Holds it like it’s the last time, because maybe it will be. “Because I— I have feelings for you.”

Golden eyes widen.

“Oh.”

“I needed to be distant with you, because— well, you know me. Always wearing my heart on my sleeve,” Jaskier admits, aware that he sounds pleading now too, stumbling to explain himself. “And if I got too close, you’d notice. You’d see— And I didn’t want you to send me away.”

“Why would I send you away?”

“Well— because,” Jaskier says lamely. “Because I’m annoying and a liability and I’m always causing you trouble and you were probably planning on leaving me in the next town anyway?”

Eskel looks at him.

He still hasn’t dropped his hand.

“Jask,” he says softly, and they’re close, so close Jaskier can feel his breath on his cheek, “do you know how to check for Dopplers?”

Jaskier frowns, confused by the non-sequitur. “Silver to their skin.”

“If I ever,” Eskel murmurs, pressing their foreheads together, “ever, leave you, run your dagger through my neck.”

And then his words melt into a kiss.

It’s a soft thing, delicate and passionate and so warm, like a sugarcube melting between their lips, and Jaskier feels lightheaded from it all. He kisses him back, deep and sure, and Eskel’s hands have wandered to his waist, rubbing against the bare skin, and Jaskier’s fingers are tangled in his Witcher’s hair, and they have all the time in the world, Jaskier knows, but he doesn’t want to stop.

He has to, though.

“Eskel,” he says against his lips.

“Mmm,” Eskel says, kissing him again.

“Eskel.”

“Mmmm.”

Jaskier pulls back, holding Eskel’s jaw in his hands. The bastard’s grinning.

“Eskel,” he says, one final time.

“Mm,” Eskel says back, looking extremely pleased with himself. His thumb is still rubbing at Jaskier’s waist, and it’s extremely distracting.

“I love you,” Jaskier says.

It’s been on the tip of his tongue for so long, it feels like breathing out after taking a long dive, watching the words float up in the air between their mouths.

Eskel smiles, and it pulls at his scar.

Jaskier kisses it.

They kiss until they can’t think of doing anything else, until the world has gone blank and there’s nothing in it but them, laying down on a tiny inn bed in the middle of nowhere, trading slow kisses like they’re afraid they’ll fade with time, the candle burning all the way down.

In the darkness, Eskel’s mouth finds Jaskier’s skin with ease. His cheek, his nose, his forehead, the tender underside of his jaw. The crook of his elbow, the hollow of his throat. All of it, he kisses, leaving behind a trail of love-warmed skin.

Jaskier does the same with him. His lips follow the pattern of Eskel’s scars, leaving tender kisses along their lines, finally able to worship the spots he’d ached to touch — his collarbone, the column of his neck, his broken knuckles.

They stop eventually, because Jaskier starts yawning and Eskel laughs at him and pulls him up into a final kiss before wrapping his arms around him, and Jaskier feels the warmth enter his bones and, for the first time, is sure it will never leave.

“I’m yours, you know,” Eskel whispers into his hair. “You claimed me the day we met.”

“How so?” Jaskier says around a yawn.

Eskel nuzzles into his neck. “You saw me bleeding and didn’t hesitate for a moment,” he murmurs. “Just grabbed my pack and demanded I give you needle and thread.”

Jaskier hums. “I can be very demanding when I need to be.”

“I know,” Eskel says, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s palm.

“If you’re mine,” Jaskier whispers, eyes closed, “then you must know, I’m yours too.”

“I would like that.”

“Good,” Jaskier says, cuddling closer to him. “Now that we’ve said it all, and I’ve ensured you can’t leave…”

Eskel frowns. “What…?”

Jaskier presses his cold feet to Eskel’s calves.

“You bastard—”

#mywriting #jaskier x eskel #jaskel #jaskel fanfic #i have NOT checked this for mistakes and will be doing so tomorrow #i hope u all like it! i'm v soft for them they deserve only good things

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knifewieldingenby · 3 years ago

Text

You shine, a Jaskel fic

This prompt comes from the lovely @kueble who always helps me when I’m dealing with writers block, thank you dear friend.

Summary: Jaskier keeps giving Eskel jewelry and he can’t fathom who someone like Jaskier would be courting him.

Content: Jaskel, courting jewelry, insecure Eskel, very mild mentions of sex (but nothing explicit), T

*written and pasted from my phone, I apologize if the format ends up being weird*

———

“What a performance!” Jaskier flopped down on his bed and sighed deeply. Eskel sat across from him on his own bed and smiled.

“You certainly had them eating out of your hands,” he said as he worked his armor off piece by piece. Normally he’d go up to the room first and take it off, but he wanted to see Jaskier perform tonight. The bard had been bursting with energy all day and Eskel knew it was going to be a good one. Besides, he could never resist the beauty that was Jaskier performing for a crowd. His face lit up, fire in his eyes, and every so often he threw a smile Eskel’s way that somehow felt different than the smile he reserved for his audience. It felt personal. Eskel wasn’t stupid enough to think it meant anything, but he was allowed to dream, even if it never came true.

“Easy crowd to please, I suppose.”

“Since when are you modest?”

Jaskier laughed and pushed himself up on his elbows. “You’re right, it was all me.”

Eskel rolled his eyes fondly. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Jaskier got up and crossed the room, fiddled with his pack a bit before coming to sit next to him.

“I got you a gift.”

Eskel cocked an eyebrow. “A gift?”

“Mm-hmm.” He opened his palm and Eskel’s eyes widened. It was a ring, a simple gold band that glistened in the dim candle-lit room. He was too shocked to respond. A gift was one thing, but this...jewelry was different. Maybe in another life it would mean something different, but in this lifetime no one gave jewelry unless they were courting someone, and that just couldn’t be right.

“You’re giving me a ring?”

“Yup!” He smiled brightly. Eskel didn’t know what to say. Surely Jaskier couldn’t mean...he couldn’t want Eskel. But it would be rude to turn it down and Eskel didn’t want to be that person. He mumbled out a thank you and hastily shoved the ring in his pocket. He caught a glimpse of something shift in Jaskier’s face.

“You don’t want it,” Jaskier said.

“What? No, of course I - I just thought-“

“Give it to me.”

Eskel cringed. This was the moment he’d feared, the moment Jaskier realized that he didn’t actually want to court Eskel. He pulled the ring back out and dropped it in Jaskier’s outstretched hand. To his surprise, Jaskier took his hand in his own. He carefully slid the ring on Eskel’s index finger and then squeezed his hand gently.

“I want you to have it,” Jaskier said softly, their eyes meeting, and Eskel couldn’t look away from that intense gaze. He swallowed through his tight throat and nodded.

Jaskier tilted his head. “Unless of course, you really don’t want it.”

“I want it,” Eskel said far too quickly, and he tried to ignore the way his cheeks burned from the admission. Jaskier smiled and squeezed his hand again.

They retired to their beds not long afterward, and Jaskier, as always, fell asleep quickly. Eskel on the other hand tossed and turned restlessly. He twisted the ring over and over, tracing the gold band with his finger, and wondered how Jaskier knew it would fit. It was true that he would occasionally take Eskel’s hand when they were settled at camp, play with his fingers lightly, but that was...just Jaskier. It was how he was with everyone he was close to.

...Right?

Eskel closed his eyes and attempted to quiet his mind. This was a one off thing, he was sure. Jaskier would quickly realize that Eskel was not the kind of man he wanted to be with, not safe enough, not handsome enough, and move on. Once the novelty of courting a Witcher wore off he would be off courting beautiful maidens and attractive blacksmiths like he did before Eskel showed up. That thought hurt more than he cared to admit to himself, but it was the truth.

With that in mind he settled and fell into a fitful slumber.

Two weeks went by and Jaskier didn’t say anything about the ring, though Eskel never took it off. He was waiting for the day when Jaskier asked him to take it off. The bard’s behavior hadn’t changed much. Sure, maybe it was true that he winked and threw smiles at Eskel more often during his performances than he had before, and maybe he’d bought Eskel sweet treats from the market without prompting, and maybe he’d played his favorite song just for him, and maybe…

He still didn’t say anything about the jewelry and Eskel wasn’t going to bring it up, for fear of reminding Jaskier what he’d done and making him regret it.

On a cool early Autumn evening they were sitting around camp after dinner, Jaskier strumming his lute idly while Eskel organized his potions, when Jaskier suddenly jumped up and rushed to his pack. He came back with something in his hands and knelt next to Eskel.

“Got you something,” he said. Eskel’s eyebrows raised as Jaskier opened his hands and revealed a long gold chain with a buttercup pendant. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, I know it’s a little more delicate than Witchers typically prefer, but-“

“I’ll wear it.” Eskel pulled what little hair he had along his neck away and dipped his head slightly. He hoped Jaskier would get the message.

He heard a soft chuckle and moments later felt the warmth of Jaskier’s hands ghosting his neck as the bard fastened the chain around him. He raised his head but his eyes were on the chain. The gold brought out warm tones in his skin.

“I- thank you.”

“Thank you for wearing it. If you decide you don’t want...this, you can take it off. I won’t- I’ll understand.”

“What is this exactly?” Eskel asked before his brain could stop him.

“What do you want it to be?”

And there was that intense look in Jaskier’s eyes again, a look that warmed Eskel just as much as it confused him. He knew what it meant when other people gave each other jewelry out of the blue but this was different. Nobody in their right mind courted a Witcher. Well, apart from other Witchers. He thought briefly of Lambert, who had been courted by a Cat, pretending he hated it but getting defensive if anyone so much as suggested he take the jewelry off. They all knew he secretly loved it.

“I want what I can’t have.” Perhaps that was a bit too honest, too vulnerable, but he didn’t care. Jaskier was so close. With their faces mere inches apart at this point he could feel the pull to lean forward, press their lips together, get lost in the softness that was the bard.

Jaskier’s eyes flicked to his lips and back as if he was thinking the same thing. “If you want me, dear, I’m yours.”

“But-“

“No buts. I’m yours.”

“Can I…” His eyes traveled to the bard’s lips again, and his heart softened at the gentle smile he received in response.

“Yes.”

He slowly reached up and took Jaskier’s face between his hands, hesitating as if giving him a chance to change his mind. But Jaskier didn’t; he made the first move, leaning forward and capturing Eskel’s lips in the softest of kisses. It didn’t last long but when they parted Eskel felt light-headed and Jaskier was smiling dreamily at him.

“Um…” Eskel shifted awkwardly and pointed to their bedrolls. “We should…”

“Do that again?” Jaskier said hopefully. His eyes were hungry and Eskel wanted to drown in them, memorize that look forever. This time he moved, and when they kissed again it wasn’t soft - it was fierce and consuming, and definitely something Eskel could get used to.

A week later they lay in bed, sheets tangled around their sweaty bodies, limbs intertwined. Jaskier was on his back and Eskel was draped half over him, head leaning on his shoulder. He traced Jaskier’s stomach with his fingers and noted how pretty the gold from his rings looked against Jaskier’s skin. Rings, plural, because Jaskier had given him another one earlier that night. It had an inscription in Elder that meant beloved, and Eskel had to bite back uncharacteristic tears when he first saw it.

“Why gold?”

“Hmm?” Jaskier’s voice was soft and still somewhat dazed from their love making.

“You always get me gold jewelry. Why is that?”

A silence stretched out between them. Jaskier reached down and intertwined their fingers. “Because silver is for monsters, right?”

Eskel startled at that, his throat constricting, and he buried his face in Jaskier’s neck so that the man couldn’t see the way his eyes watered. He’d always thought of himself as a monster, much as he wouldn’t admit it to the other Witchers. He thought himself monstrous in a way he would never see his brothers. But here was Jaskier, saying the exact opposite. It felt so wrong and so right at the same time.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbled into Jaskier’s neck.

“I know. But I wanted to.” He placed a kiss on Eskel’s forehead.

Eskel never thought he’d get this, never thought he deserved it. But maybe, just maybe, he did

——————

This is my first time writing Jaskel so please let me know how I did! Thank you for reading! :D

#Jaskel #Jaskier #Eskel #Jaskier x Eskel #Jaskel fanfic #my writing

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all-hail-the-witcher · 3 years ago

Text

rest well my songbird

its @softdarlingjaskier‘s birthday!!! and i have some soft eskier for him!!! a little birdie kings of the bog told me that you like jaskier getting his hands massaged so...without further ado...

ship: eskier :) (eskel x jaskier)

warnings: jaskier overworks his hands and eskel takes care of them. lamberts an ass for 1 second in true lambert fashion

words: 1.6k

editing: ye

genre: somfte

Jaskier flexed his hands and winced as he put down his lute. Winters offered him more down time than on the road, so he could spend the winter months composing to his heart's content, working on the longer ballads that he often neglected while tagging along on the Path.

The only problem with composing and songwriting non stop was that it made his hands ache terribly.

Between plucking at his lute and gripping his quill, his hands would usually start to protest a month or so into winter. But, as all good songwriters did, he pushed through the pain, willing to continue composing no matter what. He had a reputation to uphold and Witchers to help, after all. He couldn't afford to slack off.

Eskel did not share his views.

Well, neither did Vesemir, Geralt, Lambert and Aiden, but Eskel was the most vocal about it, often plucking the quill or lute from his hands after so many hours and demanding that he rest. Right when he was in the middle of a good line too! Jaskier had lost so many good ideas to Eskel’s forced breaks.

This was the first time though that he had chosen to take a break on his own that winter, and Eskel was on him in a second.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern flowing off of him in waves as he approached Jaskier, who had been sitting the farthest away from the fire. It wasn’t his fault that the fire would dry out his lute!

“Fine,” Jaskier muttered as he struggled to close his bottle of ink. He didn't want Eskel to worry, but he realized perhaps a second too late that Eskel could probably smell the pain coming off of him.

“That’s not true,” Eskel said, seeing through the lie immediately. “Usually I have to force you to take a break.”

He didn't say anything else and Jaskier sighed. Eskel was waiting for him to admit that he was in pain, despite the fact that he already knew.

“My hands,” he whispered, forgetting that he was in a room full of Witchers with enhanced hearing. “They’re stiff, and sore, and cramped. More than usual.” He looked up at a blurry Eskel and it took him a moment to realize that he had been almost crying.

“Yeah no shit they hurt!” Lambert shouted from the couch. “If you keep fucking playing with that damn lute of yours theyre gonna fuckin fall off!”

“Lambert,” Aiden said sternly. “Shut up.”

Jaskier laughed and tried to wipe away his tears with his hands, but winced when his fingers cramped up.

Eskel brushed his hands away and gently wiped away Jaskier’s tears with his thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“You need to not push yourself so hard, Jaskier,” he whispered, pulling Jaskier’s face against his chest. “You don’t need to spend every single waking second of the winter composing. Winters are supposed to be for relaxing, and you haven't been doing much of that.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier muttered into Eskel’s shirt. He longed to bring his hands up to hug Eskel and reassure him that this was fine, it just happened every so often, but his hands hurt too much. He didn't want them to cramp so hard that they ended up stuck in one position. That was never pleasant.

“No,” Eskel said firmly. “Don’t apologize.”

He tugged Jaskier closer to him, resting his chin on top of his head so that Jaskier was engulfed in the arms of his Witcher. Jaskier inhaled Eskel’s scent deeply. He smelled like he always did in the winters: of wood and musk, chamomile and fresh bread. It was Jaskier’s favorite smell in the world. It meant that his love was well rested and taken care of, healthy for once after a long year on the Path.

Eskel pulled away after a moment and tugged at Jaskier’s upper arm, encouraging him to stand.

“Come here,” he said, his eyes bright with what could only be an idea. And who was Jaskier to say no to him?

He followed Eskel over to the nest of furs that they kept in front of the fire, for puppy piles usually. Eskel directed him to sit down in the nest and then with a stern look not to move, he darted out of the room.

“What the hell is that sneaky fucker- mmph” Lambert’s insult was cut off by Aiden kissing him on the mouth, likely to get him to shut up.

Geralt sighed and turned a page in his book, but Vesemir, who was sitting on the other side of the fire knitting, regarded them with a fond look before turning to Jaskier.

“I have a salve that you could put on your hands, it’ll help with the cramping,” he said.

“Oh! That’s very kind but-”

Jaskier was cut off by Eskel running back into the room.

“I already got it, Vesemir,” Eskel said, walking back to the nest.

Vesemir smiled knowingly and went back to his knitting.

“C’mere Jaskier,” Eskel said, sitting behind him and tugging one of the furs across Jaskier’s lap. He carefully rolled up the sleeves of Jaskier’s chemise before opening the little tub of salve. “Lean back, relax, you don't have to do any more composing today, or tomorrow, or this whole week. I’m going to take care of you.”

Jaskier was glad that his back was to Eskel because he could feel his cheeks flushing.

Eskel picked up Jaskier’s right hand delicately in his much larger, sword calloused ones. “Let me know if I’m hurting you at any point, okay?”

Jaskier nodded and watched, mesmerized, as Eskel began to rub out the cramps in his hand. He started with his fingers, beginning with his pinky finger, and rubbing out the tensions in each of the joints. It was almost painful at first, but Jaskier soon adjusted to it and found himself craving more.

Once Eskel had worked his way slowly through Jaskier’s fingers, he moved to his palm, taking it in both of his hands and massaging it slowly in small, but firm circles. Jaskier couldn't help the sigh of pleasure that escaped his lips.

“Yes, that’s it,” Eskel murmured. “Just relax, I’ve got you.”

Jaskier let his head drop back against Eskel’s shoulder as he looked out at the room. Lambert and Aiden were bickering over a game of Gwent, passing a bottle of White Gul back and forth between them. Geralt was pretending to read, but every so often his eyes would flick up to the game and he’d mutter sometimes useful hints to Lambert and Aiden.

Jaskier watched them fondly as Eskel moved to his wrist, giving the tendons there extra attention. From there he moved up Jaskier’s forearm to his elbow, massaging his skin carefully.

Jaskier flexed his hand experimentally and was surprised when he discovered that he had definitely more movement than before. But Eskel covered his hand scoldingly.

“No,” he said. “Don't go undoing all of my hard work.”

“Sorry,” Jaskier murmured. “It just felt so nice and-”

“I’m not done yet,” Eskel said, cutting Jaskier off as he dipped his fingers into the salve.

Eskel warmed the salve first in his hands before rubbing it against Jaskier’s skin. And Meliele’s sweet tits, if the massage had been heavenly, this was absolutely divine. Vesemir had been right, the salve was positively wonderful, seemingly wonderful, drawing out the pain from his hands almost instantly. Jaskier couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips.

Eskel laughed lightly, rubbing the salve all over Jaskier’s hands and wrists, even going up his arm a little, before reaching for a few small straight planks of wood and a roll of bandages that he must have grabbed while he was getting the salve.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Jaskier protested. “Just what are you doing with that?”

“You don't want the salve getting everywhere,” Eskel explained. “So it’s best to put the bandage on until it soaks into your skin. And the splint will help keep your hands from cramping and getting stuck in an uncomfortable position while they’re bandaged.”

“But what is a musician without his hands!”

“A resting, healing one,” Eskel said, pressing a light kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “I’ll help you with everything, my songbird. I’m here to take care of you.”

Jaskier pouted but held his hand out to Eskel to bandage. “You better mean that.”

“Of course I do,” Eskel said, wrapping Jaskier’s hand and wrist in bandages first before placing the wood underneath it and arranging his fingers over it before wrapping it in even more bandages. The end result was a bit clunky looking and Jaskier wasn’t crazy about the fact that he wasn't going to be able to use his hands at all, but Eskel had promised that he would take care of him and Jaksier knew that he would deliver.

“See?” Eskel said, placing a kiss to the back of Jaskier’s bandaged hand. “All better.”

Jaskier smiled at his lover's efforts before leaning back against Eskel’s soft chest as he got started on his other hand. He watched his careful ministrations through half lidded eyes before the heat from the fire and the warmth from the furs lulled him into a half asleep state. The only thing keeping him awake was Eskel’s gentle massaging of his hand.

But eventually, Eskel finished, tying off the bandage with another kiss before wrapping his arms around Jaskier.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” Jaskier muttered truthfully. He was tired, but at least his hands didn't ache so fiercely anymore.

Eskel pressed another kiss to his hair and laid back, tugging Jaskier until he was resting his head on his chest, and wrapped a fur around the two of them.

“I’ll wake you in a few hours to take the bandages off,” Eskel murmured into his ear. “But until then, rest well my songbird.”

And Jaskier did. He fell asleep to the gentle roar of the crackling fire, to Lambert and Aiden’s drunken bickering, and to Eskel’s steady heartbeat under his ear.

happyyyestttt of birthdayssss to peterrrrrr

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#the witcher #witcher #witcher fic #witcher fanfic #jaskel #jaskel fic #jaskel fanfic #eskel #jaskier #eskel x jaskier #theyre SOMFT #saph scribbles

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