#Jaskier makes lace which requires so much concentration and labour that it ends up as a really powerful trim

[witch-witcher-witchless]

AU where everyone has varying degrees of vocational magic. Green thumbs and gardeners, cooking and kitchen witches, sculptors and minor animation, mirror makers and scrying, DnD bards and stitch witches.

After 20 years of friendship—yes, I'm your very best friend, Geralt you're as ridiculous as you are stubborn—Jaskier should be offended that the Witcher didn't know his magical vocation from his true vocation as a bard, but frankly, he's too busy crowing with the delight of a man handed priceless and endless ammunition. _________________________________________

Julian Pankratz is a minor noble, a powerful Stitch Witch, and dissatisfied with both. He runs away to Oxenfurt and becomes Jaskier the Bard. Jaskier the Bard barely earns the capital B, he's an exceptionally talented musician but barely displays the magical strength needed to do, you know, bardic magic. Nevertheless, he succeeds and rarely uses his magic beyond weaving melodies with his voice, working lute strings in a pale imitation of a loom, and spinning stories as he would spin a yarn.

Marginally magical but unquestionably talented, he sets off into the world and meets a man Witcher in Posada.

It takes a month for Geralt to get a wound too awkwardly placed to stitch himself.

"What do you mean, you just bandage it?? Bandage it until you get to a healer?"

"No, bard. I bandage it until it stops bleeding and I move on with another scar."

"No. Absolutely not." and so begins Jaskier's relentless and ruthless care, as unwelcome at first as it may be, "Yes, you're a big strong Witcher. Yes, you are sitting still and letting me do this or so help me gods, Geralt, I'll sing you to celibacy."

Jaskier hasn't properly used his magic in years beyond bits and bobs, rips and tears, attaching buttons loose from flings as hurried as they are ill-advised, and various etceteras and sundries. But apparently stitches are stitches whether on silks or skin and he hums in a futile effort to forget the presence of blood and muscle, and that might be bone and Geralt just chalks up the amount of magic in the air to Jaskier's slightly manic humming; bardic magic is notoriously fickle and is known to wax and wane.

Jaskier caves and uses his vocational magic much more frequently and in earnest after the third time he stitches skin where leather armour failed. He embroiders protection into tunics, knits swiftness and purls evasion, and spins strong thread and repairs leather to be stronger yet. Rarely when Geralt is present, but—honestly Geralt, not once in 20 years? Not once did you wonder enough to ask your dearest friend why your collection of self-sacrificing scars ground nearly to a halt??

"Melitele bless hopeless Witchers! Leatherwork was never my specialty, but when was the last time you had to replace Roach's tack?"

"When I was last in Minnowette. They did good work."

Jaskier can feel the edges of his own revelation and hear the edge of growing hysteria in his voice. "Geralt that town burned down 20 years ago."

Geralt, going frightfully still, remembers.

"...WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD TO REPLACE ROACH??!"

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But, Jaskier thinks, staring into Geralt's equally wide eyes, perhaps. Perhaps, he uh, he may have overlooked something substantial and glaringly obvious too. Roach's mane has had thousands of braids, twists, and flowers woven in. Countless little blessings that still do absolutely not explain—

Geralt...Geralt breathes. "A year before that. She was too old for a Witcher's horse and retired on a farm."

Or where Jaskier is a reluctant Stitch Witch so powerful that he accidentally makes Roach immortal and is incredibly distressed by this.

"I am a Bard! Not a little b bard, a big B Bard. Not a stitch witch! Can you hear how I deliberately used lower-case there?"

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"...Jaskier. How...how old are you?"

"The reflection in this water tells me twenty, my mother would tell me forty, and I am incredibly conflicted about this Geralt how dare you bring this to my attention instead of letting me remain beautiful and oblivious"