#didn't want to see a dip in fics on ao3 this winter break so

[pinkferrari81]

landoscar and lestappen aren't just saying that rpf is fine this weekend...they're FULEING it

[jaskiersvalley]

I dont know why, but I didn't realise you had an ao3 account and I've just read "Write it better" it was so lovely. Oh gosh it made me well up. I love all your work and always read any post you make as soon as I see it. I'm so excited to make my way through your ao3 account!

There’s quite a few things coming to the AO3 account soon that won’t be posted on here :D I had signed up for a couple of events - the Geralt/Jaskier Big Bang posted last week and there are a couple of Reverse Big Bangs that will be posting soon too which I’m super excited about. While the posting date comes around for those, I can offer you a short fic on here as thanks for your kind words. <3

Heart to the Arrow

A witcher’s heart was protected under so many layers that Jaskier was certain nothing could ever get through it. Prickly, grumpy and smelly, witchers really had the whole shtick of ‘hurt others before they hurt you’ down to a tee. At first Jaskier had thought it was just Geralt who was like that. But then he met Lambert and Eskel. With Lambert the technique was so much more obvious, he snapped and snarled, lashing out at the smallest of perceived slights. Really, if Jaskier hadn’t known the technique from Geralt, he would have told Aiden to back away, that loving Lambert was a lost cause. Except for the hope that it wasn’t. Because if Aiden could convince Lambert he was loved then Jaskier would have a chance with Geralt too. And Cahir had hope with Eskel. That was a whole different kind of armour to break through. Rather than anger and indifference, Eskel shrouded himself in kindness, in helpful softness. As he travelled and Cahir followed, they went to safe cities where Cahir could start anew, met Eskel’s contacts who were or knew someone who was single and looking for a partner, and it just so happened Cahir fit their requirements. Eskel led them to safer areas where contracts were fewer but it was easier for Cahir to settle down, to leave Eskel.

The only good to come out of the Wolves being such stubborn idiots was that they invited their guests to Kaer Morhen for the winter. It made for an interesting little club, Jaskier, Aiden and Cahir together, lamenting how their Wolves were idiots.

“It’s all sharp armour. Nobody would be foolish enough to approach a fortress armed to the teeth,” Jaskier bemoaned.

“Except us. We’re like badgers with hedgehogs. Except with less murderous intent.” Aiden added. “Most of the time.”

Cahir nodded along. “If we can’t fire Cupid’s arrow at their hearts, we’re left to throw our own hearts at their arrows.”

“And maybe if we bleed enough, they’ll pull us in behind their walls and then we can strike.” Ever the poet, Jaskier sighed as he imagined it all. “But how much of our blood do they want?”

Their little meetings hadn’t gone unnoticed. The Wolves often gathered when the other were huddled in a room and they tried to fathom what on earth they could be talking about.

“Probably trading survival tips for the Path,” Eskel suggested. “I’ve tried to give Cahir so many outs, taken him to so many places he could have settled, introduced him to so many potential partners and allies. Yet none meet his standards.”

“Tell me about it. Jaskier’s turned down some court offers. Says he needs his inspiration and muse by his side.” Much more softly, Geralt added, “I know Roach is great but this is a bit ridiculous. Even for Jaskier.”

All through it Lambert had been quiet, mulling it all over. “Aiden’s probably teaching them how to stay safe alongside a witcher.” Which was a terrifying concept. “Fuck, they need someone more sensible to teach them!”

“Or they could be nursing broken hearts,” Vesemir gave his pups a firm stare as he looked up from the book he’d been reading.

As one, the Wolves shook their heads. “Nah, not possible. They’re learning survival tips.”

Lambert took it upon himself to crash the survival course, letting himself into the room. Three sets of eyes turned to him and he could hear the spike of heartbeats like a chorus of startled chicken.

“Broken hearts survival club?” He asked as a joke, wanting to mock Vesemir even if the old witcher wasn’t around to hear.

What he didn’t expect was for Jaskier’s face to soften and for Aiden’s heart to skip a beat. “You too? Who has ensnared your precious heart?”

Not at all what Lambert was expecting and he swallowed, eyes wide. He wanted to ask if this was serious, that the three really were there to lament broken hearts. His own heart lurched, knowing it was already bruised and barely held together. To know that Aiden held a torch for someone and didn’t trust him enough to say hurt worse than anticipated.

“Someone,” he said, shrugging. “It’s not important. He’s got his claws sunk into another heart.”

Diligently, Lambert didn’t look towards Aiden at all. He didn’t miss the shifting around though as Jaskier got up and approached him.

“Claws? Lambert-”

“It was just a stupid turn of phrase,” Lambert snapped. “Thought the poet in you would appreciate some flower language.”

He was steered towards the little huddle and sat down next to Aiden. Jaskier gently pressed a bottle in his hand and gave him an encouraging look. “Tell us more about who broke your heart.”

This was not a situation Lambert had ever intended to get into. He’d honestly thought he’d be helping Lambert teach the humans survival skills. Now, he needed help getting out of this mess without wrecking everything.

“Nobody’s broken my heart.” Three pairs of sad eyes stared at him. “It’s not big enough to break.”

“It’s plenty big enough,” Aiden cut in. “I know you too well to be fooled by that lie.”

Yet Aiden couldn’t see that Lambert’s heart was his for the reaping. He didn’t know Lambert well enough to see that all he had to do was ask and Lambert was his. Or maybe Lambert his his heart too well. It was all a little too confusing and poor Lambert felt like his head was going to explode.

“You don’t know me at all,” he spat and a pained silence blanketed the room.

Aiden’s harsh “don’t touch me!” broke the stillness as Cahir tried to put a soothing hand on his shoulder. There weren’t any tears but Aiden’s voice was still thick and tight.

“Maybe you don’t know me either. Maybe it’s time we went our separate ways. I’ll keep out of your way for the rest of winter.”

Lambert’s head was spinning. He had no idea what was going on anymore. Over the course of the years he and Aiden had said so much worse things to each other and hadn’t taken true offence. As Aiden tried to walk past him, he snagged his wrist and spun him, eyes pleading in place of the words he didn’t have. Begging for forgiveness, for Aiden to see what he couldn’t say.

“I think you’ve bled enough,” Cahir piped up out of the blue, watching the staring contest. A foot kicked him in the ankle and he cleared his throat with an apology. “Sorry Jaskier, what I mean is: and now kiss.”

That, at least, had the two witchers recoiling from their staring contest. Instead though, they were now looking at everything except each other.

“Did those claws do more damage?” Aiden asked softly, barely daring to hope. He gasped a little when Lambert nodded. He pulled at his wolf, urging him to stand. Turning to the other two, he offered a disbelieving smile. “I need to talk to Lambert. In private. Please excuse me.”

They left in a rush and Jaskier looked to Cahir. Now where were two of them left. Which was, of course, the moment Geralt stepped into the room.

“Don’t go into the corridor,” he grumbled. “Aiden and Lambert have finally pulled their heads out of their asses.”

“About time too.” There was only a hint of jealousy in Cahir’s voice. Lambert had come for Aiden. And now Geralt was there, looking at Jaskier. “Are all Wolves born with their heads up their ass? Or is one of the trials called The Great Stuffing?”

Giving them a confused look, Geralt’s brows pulled into a frown. “Have you been spurned by a witcher?” Realisation dawned on him. “Eskel?”

“Why do you think this is the Broken Hearts Club? Or rather, what’s left of it.”

Eyes turned from Cahir to Jaskier and Geralt was obviously doing mental gymnastics to figure it all out. A conclusion was reached when his jaw ticked and his pupils widened before narrowing as he fought to control his reactions.

“Come tend to Roach with me,” he offered Jaskier who bounced up and was almost out the door before remembering that his friend was still there and was about to be very much alone.

“I’m so sorry,” he said and Cahir nodded. This was fine. His friends deserved happiness. Little did he realise Jaskier wasn’t apologising for that. Instead, he threw his head back and, on the top of his lungs yelled, “Eskel!” then scurried away after Geralt.

The sound of rushing footsteps alerted Cahir to Eskel’s imminent arrival. He braced himself and put on a pleasant, if a little strained mask of being just fine.

“Did you call?” Eskel asked, hopeful as he stuck his head around the door.

“Jaskier. He and Geralt are in the stables. Lambert and Aiden hopefully in a bedroom.”

Sitting down heavily next to Cahir, Eskel huffed. “They finally got brave?”

Cahir didn’t want to think about what that really meant. Because then his heart would squeeze. The Wolves seemed to know about their affections and, it seemed, Geralt and Lambert even returned the feelings.

“Yeah. They did.” He turned to look at Eskel’s profile. This was fine. He could love from afar. Make sure Eskel didn’t travel alone, that someone had his back. A faithful friend. That was going to be enough for Cahir. He didn’t expect Eskel to turn to look at him, eyes dipping down to his lips.

“Do you think-” a tongue darted out to wet dry lips before Eskel continued, “-I could be brave too?”

They were already leaning towards each other, heads tipped to their noses wouldn’t bump painfully. Pausing just shy of Eskel’s mouth, Cahir whispered, “yes please” and they finally kissed.