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bambirex · 1 year ago

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It's A Game We Play: Chapter 10

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx, Vespula

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies), crack, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega jaskier, alpha geralt, alpha yennefer, beta radovid, awkwardness, jaskier is a good parent, protective jaskier, weddings, found family, fluff and humor, post mpreg, aternate universe-modern setting, jaskier is having the worst time of his life, valdo is here to make everything worse, confusion, banter, insecure jaskier, internalized slut shaming, light angst, family drama, there was only one bed, sharing a bed, valdo marx being an asshole, valdo marx and his ukulele from hell, drunk jaskier, mild language, sexual humor, jaskier in a dress, well it's a skirt but still, jaskier is essentially a milf in this, mentions of depression

Rating: teen and up audiences

Full word count: 31,857 words

Chapter word count: 3,334 words

Chapters: 10/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Chapter summary: Jaskier and Geralt open up to each other during a picnic. Radovid and Yennefer make delightful mess in the kitchen.

Author's notes: Time to take Jaskier out on his individual dates to help...no, obviously, to confuse the already confusing feelings even more.

Read on Ao3

When Geralt asked him out on a date in his typical, endearingly awkward way, Jaskier suddenly felt like he was flung back in time. He felt like young, naïve Jaskier again, who almost did cartwheels in his excitement when Geralt finally made the first move towards him. His heart beat just as fast as it did two entire decades ago, but he was older now, a bit more mature. Therefore, he made sure to mask the way he felt like bursting with happiness, and accepted Geralt’s invitation with a polite smile instead of screaming a thousand ‘yes’, over and over.

As expected, Geralt didn’t want a lot of flair, and instead went for a little picnic. Not that Jaskier minded: he obviously loved to be wined and dined and enjoyed adventure, but he very much appreciated the idyllic little setting as well. Being simple but extremely sweet was part of Geralt’s charm, and so, when Jaskier saw the checkered blanket laid on the grass, and the traditional basket, his lips curled into a wide smile.

Said smile widened even more as he watched Geralt prepare for his arrival almost frantically, murmuring under his breath as he checked that everything was in its place. He gently removed a bug that crawled on the blanket to make sure it wouldn’t disrupt their date before triple-checked the contents of the basket. Jaskier stifled a small chuckle behind his hand.

Geralt looked up. His eyes flashed, and his cheeks flushed softly. He stood up and dusted off his clothes. His black t-shirt was pulled just as tight over his muscles as it was all those years ago. Jaskier allowed his eyes to drift to his defined chest, then to his thick arms. He let out a soft sigh.

“Hi,” Geralt greeted him. He extended his hand to Jaskier with a questioning look. Jaskier took it, once again appreciating the warmth of his skin against his.

“Well, that’s a lovely set-up,” Jaskier said earnestly as he sat on the blanket. Geralt smiled proudly.

“Glad you like it. I bought raspberries, blueberries and apricots. I also made some sandwiches and there’s home-made lemonade.”

“Wow,” Jaskier chuckled as he watched Geralt unpack the basket. “A real provider.”

He knew he managed to poke the Alpha in Geralt with his statement. He smirked when Geralt instinctively puffed out his chest.

“Did my best. The lemonade was made by Ciri, though. When she heard I was taking you out on a picnic, she immediately got to work.”

“She’s a very sweet girl,” Jaskier said softly. He grew more and more fond of Geralt’s daughter: she was a real menace and extremely stubborn, too, but she had a huge heart. In many ways, she reminded Jaskier of Amaryllis.

Geralt sat next to him and poured the both of them some lemonade. He smiled as he handed Jaskier his glass.

“I was a bit worried about how you would get along,” he admitted. “I guess you finding out I have a kid was almost as shocking as me finding out you have one, too.”

“Almost as shocking,” Jaskier replied. He took a sip of his drink, watching Geralt from the corner of his eye.

“I guess I was shocked because it was a reminder of how much time has really passed. And how much people can change in the meantime.”

Geralt hummed. He opened the box of raspberries and pushed it closer to Jaskier. For a few moments, he didn’t say anything, just stared down on the fruits.

“Do you think I changed for the better?”

The uncertainty in his voice surprised Jaskier. He knew Geralt wasn’t always the most confident person, but he didn’t realize he carried those doubts within him, still.

“Definitely,” Jaskier assured him softly. “You’re a lot more verbal than you used to be. You can still be a little awkward, and you’re still not a man of many words, but I noticed you’re a lot more open about your emotions. Do I see that right?”

“I think so.”

Geralt swallowed his own drink, a lot heavier than such a small sip indicated. Jaskier patiently waited for him to be comfortable enough to be honest with him. What didn’t work out twenty years prior, could very well work out now. With the changes in both their personalities, with decades of experience under both their belts, there was a chance their communication wouldn’t shipwreck like it did back then. No more begging for an explanation that didn’t come, no more crying instead of understanding. No more self-loathing that led to a seemingly unreasonable goodbye. They were barely adults back then: now they were both more mature, both of them parents. Maybe that was enough to turn the tide, this time.

“I hated myself for what I did to you,” Geralt eventually said. His eyebrows were knitted together in a frown as he stared down on his lap. “I acted like you didn’t matter to me. I deliberately drove you away.”

“But why?” Jaskier asked. His own emotions squeezed at his chest. “I understand having to finish college, I obviously didn’t expect you to suddenly move in with me, or anything, just… I felt like there was something else behind that whole thing. You didn’t even want long-distance. Nothing.”

“I struggled with depression a lot.”

Jaskier blinked in surprise. He was aware that Geralt could get lost in his own head, but he didn’t realize it was that bad.

“It was the worst when I was young,” Geralt continued. “I always wanted to fight every battle alone. Refused help from everyone.”

“Even your brothers and your dad?”

“Everyone. I never realized that I could be loved. Or, that I could give someone the kind of love they deserved. You scared me.”

“Me?” Jaskier breathed. Geralt nodded with a small smile.

“Yes. Because you were so open about your feelings. You wore your heart on your sleeve. There was no masking with you. I didn’t know what to do with it. With all that love you gave me, and all that love I felt for you.”

His words made Jaskier’s heart tighten in his chest. This was the first time Geralt explicitly called the thing that was between them love.

“So, I pushed you away. Told you we could never be a good match. That I can’t give you what you need. In a way, I believed I couldn’t.”

He looked up at Jaskier. His eyes were so beautiful, so gentle. Jaskier suddenly felt like he was drowning in them, but he felt no need to call for help.

“I pushed my feelings away for long years. I’ve met Yennefer. I loved her. I really, really did. But she had her own problems, too, and I had mine, and we practically killed each other. Then, at a really dark point in my life, my brothers finally knocked some sense into me and dragged my ass to a therapist. It helped a lot.”

“Thank you so much for sharing this with me,” Jaskier told him earnestly. He gave Geralt a smile. “I’m so proud of you, you know? That you didn’t just give up. The fact you feel comfortable enough to share this with me means that you truly did change.”

“I still have a lot of things I need to work on.”

“That’s okay. I need to work on a lot of things, too.”

Jaskier bit his lip. He chewed on a slice of apricot slowly, gathering courage. If Geralt respected him with being so honest, then, he needed to be honest with him, too.

“You said I always wear my heart on my sleeve, and it’s mostly true. But I do hide things like you do, as well. I don’t really advertise the fact I think Amaryllis deserves a better father, for example.”

“Hey,” Geralt said softly. He scooted just a little closer to Jaskier. “Don’t say that. You’re a great father.”

“I don’t know,” Jaskier whispered. He swallowed thickly as the memories rushed to the surface.

“You know, they say you truly grow up when you have a kid. But you know what? I never felt more like a child than when I held her in my arms for the first time. There was this beautiful, beautiful baby girl. And I had no idea what to do with her. I felt like those toddlers who play with those realistic baby dolls. Except, she was real. She cried and whimpered and relied on me for everything, and I was useless.”

He blinked against the tears in his eyes. Geralt wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Jaskier let himself lean against him for comfort.

“I remember the first night at home. She cried for hours. I fed her, rocked her, sang lullabies, changed her diaper, everything. She kept crying. And I held her in my arms, she was wailing, and I was sobbing with her. Because I didn’t know what to do.”

He wiped at his eyes with a sniffle. “And, you know, I feel like this is how we lived our lives. Me, just bumbling about, trying to take care of her. I’m always terrified I’m not enough.”

“You are,” Geralt promised. He rubbed soothing circles onto Jaskier’s back. “The things you survived, basically all alone… I don’t think I would’ve been able to.”

“You’re a single parent, too.”

“That’s different. I was much older when I had Ciri. And she was ten. She… had issues, of course. I’m not saying it was easy. It was difficult, most of the time. But it still isn’t the same as having a baby all alone when you’re barely an adult yourself.”

He gave Jaskier a small smile. “You’re incredible, Jaskier. Trust me. Amaryllis idolizes you. She has every reason to.”

His smile faded and his frown returned. “Jaskier, I… if I had known… that you got pregnant…I never would have left.”

“Well,” Jaskier said with a wet little laugh, “we can’t change the past. Besides, you know exactly she could be someone else’s.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have cared,” Geralt clarified softly. “But… you’re right. We can’t change that. We can still work on the present, though.”

His eyes were more open, more trusting than Jaskier has ever seen them. It made his heart leap inside his chest once more.

“Yes,” he replied, feeling his lips curl into a smile, again, “we can.”

The kitchen was bustling with people, and everything smelled like used oil. Radovid scrunched his nose up as he made his way through the kitchen staff, apologizing profusely when he nearly knocked a pot out of a lady’s hand.

He spotted Amaryllis and Ciri giggling together at a counter. Ciri got so into her little lemonade-business that she decided she was going to make enough for the whole inn. Amaryllis, of course, gladly helped her. It looked more like they were throwing lemon slices at each other’s head and putting ice cubes down the back of each other’s shirts and causing very loud chaos than actually working, but Radovid couldn’t help the warmth inside his chest as he watched them.

He finally noticed Yennefer cutting vegetables. Jaskier agreed she could help out in the kitchen, so it became her little sanctuary, lately.

She looked up and sent Radovid a confused look.

“Can I help you?”

“I was looking for you,” Radovid admitted. He approached the baffled Yennefer slowly. “Do you need some help?”

Yennefer stared at him. Radovid gave her an awkward smile.

“You? Doing something in the kitchen?”

“I’m not as lazy as I look,” Radovid told her. He grabbed a knife and a potato, sending her a challenging look. “I might not be as good a cook as you are, but I can peel vegetables.”

“How did I turn into a good cook all of a sudden,” Yennefer huffed under her nose. Radovid carefully placed a hand on her arm.

“You were young, and nervous,” Radovid reminded her. “You made a mistake. I blew it out of proportion. I’m sorry. You did not deserve that. I tasted your cooking yesterday, and it was incredible. You’re talented, Yennefer. You just need to believe in yourself.”

Yennefer blinked. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Radovid couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself upon rendering her speechless.

“Grab an apron and tie your hair up,” was all Yennefer said. Radovid obeyed her with a grin.

They worked together in silence for a while. Yennefer broke it with a little chuckle.

“You’re bored,” she said, “and you miss Jaskier. That’s why you’re following me around like a puppy.”

“In about twenty-five percent. The rest is about me genuinely enjoying your company. Is that weird?”

“Very weird.”

They both laughed. The awkward silence turned into a comfortable one. They both stole glances towards Amaryllis and Ciri- and sometimes, at each other.

Radovid rolled his eyes when he saw Valdo flirting with one of the servers. Yennefer groaned. Valdo looked in their direction, and grinned.

“If it isn’t walking ATM and the ice queen herself!”

“I prefer Richie Rich and Savage Soufflé, to be honest,” Yennefer scoffed. She slapped Valdo’s hand when he tried to steal the olives off the counter. “I’m holding a knife, so don’t push me!”

Radovid watched Yennefer threaten Valdo with glee. She really was one hell of a tough woman. It was very, very endearing.

He filled a piping bag with Yennefer’s home-made mayonnaise. He had no idea what he messed up, but when he tried to shake it up, he managed to shoot the sauce out and into Yennefer’s face.

“Oh, shit,” he gasped, throwing the bag away and turning to Yennefer to inspect the damage. Mayonnaise was dripping from her hair, her nose, even her eyelashes. Radovid was certain that knife was gonna end up in his gut, instead of Valdo’s.

“Let me…” he gently started wiping at Yennefer’s cheeks with a napkin. Yennefer blinked up at him, her lips slightly parted as Radovid gently held her jaw. His fingers accidentally brushed her skin as he cleaned her off. It made his chest strangely warm.

Yennefer’s cheeks were flushed pink as Radovid wiped the corner of her mouth.

“Thanks…” she whispered, her pupils blown wide. Radovid held her gaze.

Of course, Valdo had to ruin this moment, as well.

“See, Radovid, if you aimed like this with Jaskier back then, you wouldn’t have to worry about whether your DNA is wreaking havoc in the form of a pretty young girl with bangs.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Radovid growled as he turned to him. Valdo cackled and popped an olive into his mouth.

“My aim was a lot better, you see. I made sure I didn’t get him pregnant, but your braincells are obviously stored in your balls.”

“Get who pregnant?” Yennefer asked, confused. Valdo smirked.

“Who? That ripe peach out there who’s currently fluttering his lashes up at G.I. Joe.”

“Ridiculous,” Radovid huffed. “Jaskier wouldn’t sink that low to sleep with you!”

“I’m sure you know he can sink extremely low.”

“Get out of the kitchen with your bullshit!” Yennefer hissed. She grabbed the knife again, narrowing her eyes at him. Valdo realized it was probably smarter not to push an angered Yennefer, so he left, but only after he grabbed the entire jar of olives.

“There’s no way Jaskier slept with him,” Radovid shook his head vehemently. “I refuse to believe it.”

Yennefer scoffed. “Yeah, this gremlin just really enjoys messing with us for no reason.”

She looked up at Radovid, and smiled.

“Is there any mayonnaise left in the bag?”

Radovid laughed and handed it over to her, to make sure no more accidents happened.

They lay on their sides, facing each other. The Sun warmed their skin and the light breeze carried the sound of birds chirping. Geralt has never felt this peaceful in his entire life.

Jaskier foregone make-up today. He was beautiful. Geralt ached with the need to caress his face, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to, not just yet. He couldn’t push this any further than necessary.

After opening up to each other like that, it felt like the walls between them finally tumbled down. Geralt felt a great sense of comfort as he watched Jaskier curled up on his side next to him, his long lashes fluttering against the light.

“Ciri and Amaryllis are so cute together,” Jaskier suddenly said. Geralt raised an eyebrow. Jaskier chuckled.

“You know, when Amaryllis was little, she always asked me for a little sibling. She would toddle up to me and poke me in the stomach, asking me if I could put another baby in there.”

Geralt smiled brightly at the mental image. His heart swelled at the big, beautiful smile that spread on Jaskier’s face.

“I had to tell her that I couldn’t do that alone. Then, she offered me to help,” Jaskier snorted. “Obviously, she was too small to understand. I told her I needed an adult’s help. She promised she would find someone for me.”

“That’s adorable,” Geralt grinned. Jaskier sighed with a fond little smile.

“It was, but it was also incredibly awkward, because she would walk up to random people and ask them if they could help put a baby in my belly.”

“Oh, God,” Geralt laughed. Jaskier hid his face in his hand, cackling.

“It’s no wonder she pulled this scheme with us. Been her favorite sport since she was little.”

He placed his head over his arm comfortably. His eyes were bright as he peered up at Geralt.

“It’s almost like she has a sister now. With Ciri.”

“Ciri loves her a lot,” Geralt admitted with a smile. He also noticed the growing bond between the two girls, and it made him feel just as excited as it did Jaskier. The warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest quickly dissipated when he realized that if it turned out Amaryllis wasn’t his, and Jaskier picked her biological parent, that meant they would have to separate the girls.

Jaskier seemingly had similar thoughts, if the small frown on his face was anything to go by.

“I know you already have a child, but… would you be happy, if it turned out you have another one?”

“Yes,” Geralt said without hesitation. “Of course.”

“And what if she isn’t yours?” Jaskier asked softly. “You said you would have cared even if it turned out she wasn’t, but do you mean it?”

“You know my entire family is adopted,” Geralt reminded him. “For me, blood doesn’t make a family. It’s about choice. Ciri and I do not share our DNA. I love her all the same. I do not think of her as my ‘adopted daughter’, she’s just my daughter. The same way I do not think about my brothers as step-brothers, either. We look nothing alike, so what? We are siblings. And my father is my father.”

He trailed off for a second, watching the sunlight reflect off Jaskier’s necklace.

“But in this situation,” he continued, feeling his chest tighten, “it might matter. Not to me, necessarily. To Amaryllis.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier whispered. He bit his lip. “This is about her.”

“I don’t think sharing blood is the only way to connect to a child,” Geralt continued. Then, looking into Jaskier’s eyes again, he added, “but it might be the only way to connect to you.”

Jaskier let out a deep sigh. He opened his mouth and made a small sound, but he trailed off before he actually said anything. There was a sad frown on his face. Geralt wanted to replace it with a smile instantly.

He carefully moved his hand until he brushed Jaskier’s fingers. Jaskier blinked up at him.

“Is this okay?” Geralt asked, hopefully. Jaskier nodded, his smile almost shy.

“Yes,” he replied. He opened his hand, letting Geralt lace their fingers together. They lay like this, quietly talking about less heavy subjects, smiling, laughing, while never letting go of each other’s hands.

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