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dapandapod · 1 year ago

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Brave your neck to see the sun

Just another thing that lives in my head rent free that is half a fic, half an idea, that begs to be written, so here is the mix of it. And because who I am as a person, I slapped it on Ao3 as well.

(cw, lettenhove has fallen, sad stuff in general, loss of family, their spirits)

Because....

Cursed Jaskier.

I mean, he is immortal, and his home, Lettenhove, is but crumbled rock by now, and jaskier is tied to their ruins.

And maybe madness is threatening in the corner of his eye, maybe the past is talking to him, maybe the stones remembered what they looked like in ages past.

And Jaskier cannot leave.

Maybe this is where jaskier goes after the mountain, because when he last was home, it was still standing.

But the land is fallen, burned, ash on his tongue.

Maybe there was a curse put on the stones rather than him, keeping what remains of the family bound to the ground, for the dynasty to defend against an army should they return.

And Jaskier is caught in the ruins, and the remains of his family and his childhood.

Geralt finds Ciri, and she dreams of Yennefer, yes, but she cant' stop dreaming of a land that was, and she feels herself pulled there, but it is too dangerous, because it is on the other side of the army following her.

When they finally go, the survivors in the gathering of houses on the outskirts of Lettenhove speak of a ghost, of lights as the darkness is falling, of the sound of crying, and singing, sometimes laughing.

It takes time for them to make it up there, the magic fighting them every step of the way, making it treacherous and dangerous.

Jaskier can hear them coming, but they are not the first ones attempting to seek the treasures of what once was, and he hides.

They find a lute, broken in what seems in a fit of rage against the stones. some of the strings are still connecting the neck to the body, and Geralt feels a pang of fear when he recognizes it.

Jaskier has had time to make many hiding spots, a routa of sorts, of small camps. There are weeds growing around the cracked stones, sticking up defiantly, baring their necks to see the sun.

Eventually Geralt finds Jaskier, hiding in one of the crumbled rooms, a half burned painting propped up against the wall, a little girl with one eye covered with yellow locks looking out, holding the hand of her older brother.

Jaskier holds his dagger out, until he realizes who it is.

Geralt doesn’t know how to break the curse, and it hurts Jaskier to leave. They can’t stay with him, and to not raise suspicion they have to leave him behind.

Jaskier watches them leave, and he knows that he won’t see them again. Why would Geralt come back after all, now that Jaskier finally can’t follow.

He waits until he can’t see them anymore, until he believes they can’t hear him anymore, and he screams out his frustrations, voice echoing against the stones.

Eventually Yennefer finds him, and she has the solution. Not a pleasant one, but one that allows him to leave.

His bloodline is tied to this place, imprinted on him when his fathers father brought him underground and a small child, and put his blood among his ancestors.

What Jaskier thought was madness was instead shattered remains of a spirit.

With the witch’s help, Jaskier’s mother’s spirit wakes, and she cries when she sees her son.

“Where were you?” She asks, she grieves, she screams, until her rage has run its course.

More spirits rise, and Yennefer keeps them safe in the middle of the courtyard.

The curse can’t be lifted, but they learn that Jaskier can be freed, can move on from his past if he lifts his imprint away from the stone.

A grave hag has taken residence below, her cackling and grunting traveling up the stairs, and Yennefer too must leave Jaskier, to bring a witcher to help.

Her magic is still fragile, and she places her hand on Jaskier’s cheek as he takes her goodbye, leaving him with the spirits of his family.

Eventually it is Eskel who kills the hag, keeping Jaskier company when he laughs a little too loudly, his eyes a little too wide with unrest and grief.

When Yennefer finally returns, she brings Geralt and Ciri once more, and they are surprised to see Eskel by Jaskier’s side, the hag dealt with.

Yennefer presses Jaskier’s cut palm against the cold stone of his ancestors, chanting as she recalls his blood, distangles his past from the stone.

Above, the ruins creak and groan, the spirits growing agitated. They shriek and they trash and they try to protect their home from the intruders.

When they emerge, Jaskier is quiet. He is quiet as he tests his first steps outside the ruin grounds, and he is quiet when he looks back to what was his home, and then his prison.

The ground is covered in weeds, slowly dancing in the wind, the spirits keeping their own company.

Lettenhove is no more, and the ruins remain unbothered.

Sometimes Jaskier returns, just to speak with his sister. Sometimes he sings to his mother, and talks about the worldly affairs with his father.

Jaskier is not tied to the stone anymore, but his spirit will not rest until his family does.

Ciri doesn’t dream of the ruins anymore, but sometimes she gets a faraway look, takes Jaskier’s hand, and asks if he would take her to the coast.

Geralt and Yennefer never reconnected after the djinn. and eventually finds another djinn to break the wish.

She finds her own way, even if it is connected to Ciri’s, and she finds her own destiny in the shape of a Merigold.

It takes time for Geralt to build up what he broke. Takes time to figure out how friendship works, and even more so when Geralt figures out his own feelings towards the bard.

The bard is not the same man, how could he be, but he grows anyway. Grows like a defiant weed in the cracks of a stone, baring their neck to see the sun.

#whump the bard i guess #cursed!jaskier #geraskier #the witcher #lettenhove #julian alfred pankratz #i'm not saying he left his name behind #but maybe he did #this almost took a very darker turn i just need you all to know this #dapanda writes #geralt of rivia #cirilla of cintra #witcher eskel #yennefer of vengerberg

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jaskierror · 2 years ago

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in ways that can't be said — chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE — SNORES & SNORTS

Geralt, a very tired and very overworked librarian, finds an eccentrically dressed man asleep in the library right as they're about to close.

Jaskier, a very tired and very overworked educator at the local museum, accidentally falls asleep in a library whilst doing research for an upcoming exhibit and is awoken by a devastatingly attractive librarian.

---

By the time closing rolled around, Geralt really, truly, honestly just wanted to go home.

In general, Geralt preferred to not work closing shifts. The library stayed open until 7pm most evenings, but he liked to be home with Ciri as early as possible; Lambert was always happy to watch her until Geralt got off work, given that Lambert’s job in Dol Blathanna’s Public Works department wasn’t a traditional 9-to-5, but, well. Geralt missed his daughter, is all, and was perhaps a bit clingy when it came to her. Sue him for loving his kid.

Despite his reluctance to work past 5pm, Renfri had caught the flu, and Geralt had agreed to cover her shift while she recovered, meaning he would be at the library until about 7:30. Of course, by the time it was half past 5, he was itching to get home—by then, he would normally be pulling into his driveway in Upper Posada, and Ciri would be running outside to greet him while Lambert watched them with poorly disguised fondness from the front porch. He would pick his daughter up, balance her on his hip, ask her about her day at school and what she and her Uncle Lambert had been up to since she got home. He would get to kiss her on her forehead, and cook dinner (lately, she had become a big fan of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets), and—

Anyway. Enough of that.

The minutes and hours ticked by with relentless, deliberate slowness, and Geralt felt nothing but relief when it was finally, finally time to start closing. Zoltan offered to organize the information desk and the front seating areas while Geralt swept the shelves for any stragglers and re-shelved any books sitting around.

Geralt worked quickly, eager to finish up and return home—in the back of his mind, he wondered what Lambert and Ciri had eaten for dinner—and he was returning a book of traditional Temerian recipes to its rightful shelf when he heard…

Well.

It seemed to be somewhere between a snore and a snort, in all honesty, and Geralt could only sigh deeply and brace himself before rounding the corner.

He had been expecting any of a number of things, really. Typically, it was elderly people who would fall asleep at the tables, but in his years of working at the library, Geralt had practically seen it all.

Still, he was surprised when, in one of the cushioned wooden chairs, slumped down onto the round table and surrounded by a veritable pile of books, was a man with a mop of brown hair actively using an open book as a pillow. There was a peaceful expression on his face, features soft and neutral and relaxed, and he seemed to be drooling onto the book just a bit. His clothing was… colourful, mostly. He wore a pair of bright purple slacks and brown loafers. On top of a short-sleeved button down, he had on a sweater vest with a garish blue leaf pattern covering it. There was a well-made leather satchel slung over the back of his chair, and Geralt spotted an assortment of silver rings on his hand.

Right as Geralt finished looking him over, the man released another ungodly snore from deep within his chest, and Geralt had to resist the urge to snort in amusement as he walked over and shook the man gently by his shoulder. Almost immediately, he grumbled into the book and began to blink awake, and Geralt hastily removed his hand, waiting patiently as he got his wits about him.

After a quick stretch in his seat, the man twisted to face him, still blinking the tiredness from his eyes, and Geralt was shocked by just how blue they were as he stared up at Geralt. The man froze for a moment, looking a bit like a deer caught in the headlights, before he seemed to take in his surroundings and look properly embarrassed.

“Sorry,” the man grinned sheepishly, then paused to yawn and rub at his eye before continuing. “I must’ve fallen asleep. Do you, uh, happen to know what time it is?”

Geralt looked down at his watch, then back up at the man. “Five till seven.”

“Oh, fuck,” he cursed, standing up. (Geralt was slightly ashamed to admit that he hadn’t realized until just then that the man was of a height with him.) He began hastily stacking books and piling some in his arms. “Is there still time to check these out? I can come back tomorrow if not, but I was really hoping that I—”

“Calm down,” Geralt said, raising an eyebrow at the man’s hurried, panicked flurry of movement. “Go to the desk. Zoltan can help you. You can leave anything you’re not borrowing here.”

Relief and hope flashed though the man’s unnecessarily blue eyes. “You’re sure?”

Geralt just nodded stiffly, watching as the man thanked him profusely and gathered his things, carrying a handful of books with him as he rushed off toward the lobby. Once he’d disappeared and his shuffling footsteps faded out, Geralt rummaged through the rest of the titles he’d accumulated. They all seemed to be on art and music across the Continent—a book of Aedirnian folk songs, a history of Kerackian musical movements, an encyclopaedia of Kaedweni sculptors. Geralt hummed under his breath, then began the monotonous job of putting everything in its rightful place.

---

In his defense, Jaskier really hadn’t meant to fall asleep at the table.

Ever since he’d moved to Aedirn, he found himself exhausted more often than not. His life had consisted of a series of rather sporadic, spontaneous moves ever since he decided to leave his family home in Kerack to pursue the arts. He’d moved to Redania years ago to attend none other than Oxenfurt Academy, and had spent his summers gallivanting around the countryside with his schoolfriends. After three years of study, he graduated with degrees in Music Performance and Art History, and a year later, had earned a graduate degree as well. He had then promptly departed for a year of backpacking through Temeria, after which he’d returned to Oxenfurt to teach for a term. Most recently, he had uprooted his entire life to move to Dol Blathanna. He’d decided on a bit of a whim that he needed a change of pace—new places, new sights, new people. As soon as he had a job lined up as an educator and program developer at the Dol Blathanna’s Museum of Art and History—which, everyone had to admit, was truly a perfect fit for him—he had packed his things and been on his way.

That had been nearly two months ago, and Jaskier had been working overtime to establish a life for himself in the city. He’d always been a restless person, needing noise and hustle and bustle to keep himself sane, so he had signed a lease for a rather expensive apartment close to the city’s center. On the bright side, the location made his commute to work rather convenient, and he was near enough to nightlife that he had found a handful of bars and cafés he could play the occasional gig at. He’d also taken to offering music lessons on the weekends to help make ends meet. Between his musical pursuits, unpredictable work hours, and numerous side jobs, he was, well. Pretty tired, all things considered.

However, there was no time to rest! He had been tasked with a laundry list of assignments at work in order to prepare for the summer; the museum always put on educational programming and enrichment opportunities for children when schools were out of session, and Jaskier’s job was to propose and develop said programming. Thus, on one of his rare days off, he had gone to the library to do a bit of light research; he had a handful of ideas for some interactive exhibits, but he needed to flesh them out a bit more.

The research ended up being less light than he had planned, because of course it had, and soon enough, Jaskier had a pile of books around him. By the time he had finished flipping through the third book, he was becoming rather tired, and—

Okay, well. Look. Here’s the thing. Jaskier was tired, and he had been up until very early in the morning because he’d played a gig for some swanky hotel bar in the central business district, and the library was just cold enough that it was making him drowsy, and the sounds of people flipping through pages and trodding up and down the aisles was soothing him, and the books were, in all honesty, starting to bore him, and—

He fell asleep. He fell asleep, okay, and in his opinion, that was a very reasonable consequence given the clusterfuck of a headache his week had been.

Next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by a man gorgeous enough that Jaskier, for a brief moment, froze in place and forgot entirely where he was. (He froze, which he never does. Julian Alfred Pankratz does not freeze, gods dammit, but sweet Melitele, who could blame him? The man was stunning.) He was tall and broad-shouldered, his long white hair tied messily into an updo with a few strands framing his face; he had honey-golden eyes, a strong brow and nose and jawline, and a few faint scars decorating his face. He wore a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a very flattering pair of black jeans. He also, much to Jaskier’s embarrassment, had a name-tag; in large letters, it read GERALT RIVIA, and underneath, in smaller text, LIBRARIAN . The library’s logo was depicted to the left.

A very gorgeous man, and a librarian to boot? Unfair.

Though he tried to appear smooth and suave and generally like a competent, put-together adult, Jaskier knew he fumbled through his interaction with the man, and he felt a bit like a fool the entire time. As he practically scurried off with his handful of books, his face and neck warmed with embarrassment. At the desk, he found the “Zoltan” individual Geralt had spoken of, a short, stocky man with a mohawk and full beard, and Jaskier hurried through the transaction before practically fleeing from the library. It wasn’t until he had returned to his apartment nearly twenty minutes later that he finally felt like he could breathe again.

He went through his evening routine of taking a scalding hot shower, changing into pajamas, and lounging on his couch with leftover takeout and a glass of Est Est. (Est Est was definitely beyond what he could afford at the moment; that particular bottle had been a farewell gift from Essi.) As he ate and drank, he flipped through the books he had checked out and wrote out ideas, notes, and questions in his work notebook. And if he occasionally remembered his downright embarrassing encounter at the library and then buried his face in a pillow as he tried to emotionally recover, that was nobody’s business but his own.

As the hours passed and the clock crept closer to midnight, he’d come up with more questions than anything else, which was. A bit of an issue.

Even with his extensive studies in art history, Jaskier didn’t know as much about Aedirnian artistic customs—his studies had placed a focus on traditions in remote, mountainous regions of Redania and Kaedwen. He could talk for hours about the production of Redanian watercolour paints, and had quite literally co-written one of the most comprehensive books on Kaedweni folk music, but he’d wanted the museum’s summer programming to have an emphasis on local arts, which meant that he’d need some help.

He then realized that this probably meant asking one of his new coworkers for direction, which he would, to be quite frank, rather perish than do, because he felt that most of them already thought he was silly and foppish and deeply unserious, with the way he was always running to and fro with his head barely attached to his shoulders, never seen without a cup of coffee and bags under his eyes. However, it was either facing his coworkers, all of whom had chronic cases of stick-up-the-ass-itis, or… going back to the library, and potentially facing the tall-gorgeous-intimidating librarian again. (Geralt, his brain supplied helpfully.)

Neither option sounded particularly appealing, and both avenues would undoubtedly lead to Jaskier making a fool of himself, so he decided that he would simply go to the library as soon as it opened at nine in the morning; he severely doubted that the man would be working from nine to seven on a daily basis, so he was probably in the clear.

…Probably.

---

AN: hey y'all! hope you enjoy chapter 1!! keep up with me on my ao3, found +here, and my twitter @nottveth. chapters 2 and 3 are already written and posted on ao3, but will be updated here over the next few days.

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spilledbutter · 2 years ago

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shining in your light (a knight, my love, a knight)

Summary: Jaskier's days as a single man are numbered. With family obligations knocking at the door and no escape in sight, he knows he will soon be forced to marry.

Things are further complicated when he meets a beautiful, brown-haired witcher by chance in a tavern one night.

Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: M | WC: 3k+ | CW: coarse language, implied sex

A (very) belated Witcher Writers Winter Gift Exchange 2022 (@witcherficwriters) fill for @matrixfairy! I hope you enjoy, friendo, and sorry it's so late!

Also on AO3! I anticipate at least two more chapters, if not three, to finish everything up.

When he was younger, Jaskier imagined life to be a fairytale.

Grand adventures, beasts to be slain, and knights in shining armor.

“Yeeugh,” the man groaned out from the tavern floor where he’d stumbled before him, covered in mud and smelling of horse dung.

Real life never was quite like he imagined it would be.

“I’m so sorry, are you alright?” Jaskier’s hands fluttered uselessly in front of him, wanting to help but not quite sure if the other man was injured. He hastily put aside his tankard of ale and lute.

“Sir? Can I help you with anything?” He called when he received no reply. It took a moment, but the man finally raised his head, turning surprisingly keen, golden eyes on Jaskier. He’d thought he was dealing with a drunkard.

He knew he should feel exposed, perhaps intimidated, under such a sharp gaze. Jaskier had never been prone to the reactions of normal people, however, so he felt nothing of the sort.

Surprisingly, he only felt warm, heat pricking his collar.

Warmer still, as he took notice of the strong jaw, full lips, and long lashes cradling those honeyed irises. His eyes scanned over a set of broad shoulders, topping off a barrel chest, and what he was sure were delectable abs underneath a ruby-colored gambeson.

Covered in mud he may be, but a pig he was not.

“You talkin’ to me, pretty thing?” The rumbling, rich baritone shook him out of his stupor. Jaskier planted a charming grin on his face, casually running his hand over his chin in a thoughtful pose to check for drool. Gods above.

“Ah, but the man does speak! Are you sure you’re alright?”

The other man sat up, leaning against the wall. “Just peachy,” he grunted, leaning his elbows on his knees. “No need to worry, pretty thing. My kind are made for a bit of wear and tear.”

Shit. And a smile meant to break a man’s heart, to boot.

Well. Jaskier had never been one to resist a pretty face.

“Can I help you? Buy you an ale, maybe?”

The grin turned devilish, topaz eyes shimmering with mischief. “Aye, and a bowl of stew if you’re going to bed me,” he winked. “Probably need the energy. You seem like a wild one.”

Jaskier flushed, shocked and pleased all in one. He returned the wink with a provocative smile of his own. “A gentleman never tells, my dear.”

He held out a hand. A little flirtation did not an acquaintance make. Jaskier was no fool, either.

Two swords on his back. Heavy traveling cloak, worn at the hem and tattered. Scarring on his face and forearms - from some beast or other, no doubt.

A witcher. Very interesting indeed.

Those discerning eyes stared him down, assessing, before seeming to make a decision. A strong hand clasped Jaskier’s own.

He pulled the other man up with only a little effort and noted the surprise on the witcher’s face. He felt no small amount of pride. He didn’t have a witcher’s bulk, but he wasn’t a small man by any means.

Now that he was standing, Jaskier took full stock of the other man’s form. His new friend had about three inches on him and at least a hundred pounds. Jaskier felt a pleasant tingle run down his spine. It was rare he met a delicious man like this on accident.

“Jaskier,” he announced in his most imperious voice with a courtly, sweeping bow. “At your service.”

The other man quirked his lips, amused. “Eskel.”

Jaskier felt giddy. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Eskel. I believe I promised you an ale?”

That lovely half-smile doubled in size. “Aye. I believe you did.”

###

There wasn’t much talking after they went upstairs. Jaskier’s rented room was small, the bed smaller, but it would do the job.

“Darling,” Jaskier purred once the door was shut, “That armor is quite dashing, but I have to say you’re a tad overdressed.”

Eskel’s warm body pressed against his with a mouthwatering pressure. With the wall at his back and the absolute boulder of a man at his front, he’d never felt happier about being cornered. A rough hand grasped his jaw, calloused thumb brushing against his bottom lip.

“Pretty words from a pretty mouth,” Eskel rumbled in his deep baritone. Golden eyes bored into Jaskier’s own, pinning him with their intensity. “D’you sing just as sweetly?”

Jaskier smirked wolfishly, wrapping his arms firmly around Eskel’s neck. “I’m sure you’ll find out.”

A husky chuckle, followed by a throaty moan. And then the night was silent.

###

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open, moonlight filtering through the tiny inn window.

He quietly took stock of the pleasant soreness in his limbs, aches in places which meant he’d had a very good night indeed. It took a few moments for him to become aware of the hard chest beneath his ear, carpeted with smattering of dark hair.

He came fully into awareness, remembering his night with Eskel and feeling a goofy smile bloom across his face. He was almost too comfortable using the witcher as a pillow. He would be perfectly content to lounge around until Eskel woke up. Maybe convince him to go for another round… But loathe as he was to move, he knew he needed to get back home.

As quietly as possible, he disentangled himself from the body below him. He dressed in silence, distinctly aware of every swish and rustle of fabric making their way to sharp witcher ears. He put on just enough clothing to be decent for the trek back, not wanting to delay any further.

Jaskier looked back at the man on the bed. He truly had the body of a god, looked absolutely delectable with a sheet just barely covering his exquisite cock. Blessedly, he’d had the skills in bed to match, which Jaskier was quite thankful for.

He looked oddly vulnerable, soft brown curls falling into his eyes and face lax with sleep. The moon’s rays danced across his striking features and made his tanned skin glow. He was the picture of inviting.

He was beautiful. It was a shame this was only for a night.

“May our paths cross again, Eskel,” he spoke softly.

Jaskier slipped out the door, unaware of the witcher watching him leave.

###

His nightly outings were becoming more common the closer he got to his impending doom. Since he’d passed his twenty-first birthday, Jaskier knew he was living on borrowed time. He knew his father would make things as unpleasant as possible.

Men of the Pankratz family were honor-bound to marry by the end of their twenty-first year. If they had not made a match by this time, a match would be arranged for them by the head of the household. The legend (or so he was told, although it all sounded like horse shit) went that were this rule not met, a curse would befall their house and lands, blighting all who lived within them.

Or something. He’d never really paid attention during his governess’s lessons, dreadfully boring woman that she was.

But he was damned sure everyone in his house believed in the legend. Without a doubt, he’d be turned out on his ass for the first respectable gentleperson that came calling for him. He was under no illusions that his father had his best interests at heart–far from it, in fact. The sooner they’d be rid of him, the better.

Nothing like a parent’s love, eh?

He bitterly chuckled to himself as he stepped into the shadowed gardens below his quarters. Right turn at the archway. Left at the lavender bushes. Two steps and a hop across the charming little pond with the frogs he’d played with as a child. Now just a shimmy up the trellis to his open window and he’d be home free.

He should really look into doing this professionally. He’d make an excellent spy.

Jaskier crested the windowsill, feet on the warmed stone floors. The embers of the fire were still hot in the hearth, no doubt stoked by his diligent valet. let out a yawn, feeling his eyes start to droop.

“I imagine I’d be tired too, after an acrobatics routine like that.”

He jumped about a foot in the air. He did not shriek, thank you very much.

“Jana, you witch!” He hissed, blue eyes blazing. “Perhaps I should put a bell on you!”

She smirked, green eyes glinting maliciously. “And where would be the fun in that?”

She was the devil incarnate. Evil in the flesh. He loved her to pieces.

“Sister dear,” he hummed, stepping towards his wardrobe. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just checking on my dearest Julek. Thought you might be tossing and turning tonight, is all.”

Jaskier squinted at her before turning back to his clothes. He grabbed a nightshirt and stepped behind the changing screen. “And why ever would I be restless?”

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was laughing at him. “Just a… feeling I had.”

He quickly stepped out from behind the screen, more comfortable now in his loose night clothes. He stepped towards the basin to wash his face. Jana was sitting primly on the bench, legs crossed daintily, looking serene as ever.

Something was definitely wrong.

“Oh?” He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of true curiosity. She was unbearably smug about this little talent of hers.

She got like this, sometimes. Jana was prone to feelings—no one in their family called them premonitions, per se, but it was hard to find a different word to describe them. Sometimes it was small things, like an unexpected change in the weather, but there were other times, too–like when she’d gotten a bad feeling about Aunt Margot’s cold, and she’d passed within a fortnight.

Jana hummed, noncommittal, and tossed her long, chocolate locks over her shoulder. “Something is going to happen tomorrow. Something big. And it concerns you, brother dearest.”

Jaskier didn’t respond, mind racing. He schooled his features, maintaining the indifferent mask he’d learned as a son of the peerage. The tournament tomorrow was for the benefit of the Pankratz House. It didn’t, however, directly impact Jaskier in any notable way–not more than it would impact them all.

“We shall see, I suppose. Now, if you don’t mind,” he pointedly shuffled towards his bed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he passed. “I need my beauty rest.”

He’d turned down the covers and was just about to snuff the light when Jana approached him, ruffling his hair. He huffed. She turned away toward the door with a smile.

“Indeed we shall, little brother. Tomorrow.”

###

The morning dawned bright, trumpets and birdsong intermingling with the fresh dew. The sunlight was dappled through the trees in the clearing and the air smelled of late spring blossoms.

It was far too fine a day for such nonsense.

“Hark! Hear ye, hear ye! On this day commences the Tournament of Koselig, attended only by the most honorable of knights and lords!”

The opening speeches were always dull as watching paint dry. The Pankratz family was seated in the box with the best view of the action at the head of the field. He was expected to smile and nod as the competitors passed their box, acknowledging the brave souls fighting and potentially losing life and limb. All for the sake of their entertainment–and today, the dubious honor of ruling the shittiest parcel in the province.

It made him sick, to be honest.

“You don’t suppose we could slip out after the announcements, do you? I’m sure Vincent could be convinced to cover for us with the right motivation.” He winked at Jana, earning a giggle in return.

“You know we can’t, Julek. Besides–I really do have a good feeling about today. Something important is going to happen, I just know it.”

Her feelings were not to be dismissed. It was sure to be an eventful day, for one reason or another. He just hoped it wasn’t at his expense.

“Jana, Julian, do be quiet. Where are your manners?” His mother tutted, one elegant brow arched. She was the spitting image of his sister, with a few more lines around her eyes and streaks of gray through her hair.

“Apologies, mother. I seem to have forgotten my patience today,” Jaskier smiled sweetly. “Must these things be so terribly tedious?”

“It would do you well to watch your tongue, Julian. Comes with the territory. A Viscount is expected to behave and attend events such as this.”

“Only a Viscount in name, father. Don’t you worry–you’ll never have to bless me with more responsibility than that with our dear Jana here.”

The tension between father and son was palpable. Jana discretely squeezed his hand in support.

Jaskier’s relationship with his father had never been the greatest, but they had reached an all-time low recently. He felt like he was on a tightrope, closer and closer to falling to the brink as each day passed. Who–or what–his father had in store for him was a great source of anxiety. And two of them weren’t exactly the types to have heart-to-heart chats, so his fate would inevitably be a surprise. Joy of joys.

In other circumstances, he’d be filling the gaping pit of anxiety with a glass of wine and a warm body, but alas. Duty called, as his father liked to remind him.

“We have the honor of being hosted today by the esteemed Pankratz family: the Earl Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Maria Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Jana Pankratz of Lettenhove, and Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove,” the herald carried on. “The knights and lords present will compete today for the honor of overseeing one of his Lordship’s properties in Hygge, a parcel of land which…”

Jaskier found his attention drifting beyond the stands, the announcements a tiresome buzzing in the background. From the looks of it, every person in the city of Koselig had turned out for the event, and probably the neighboring cities too. They were practically giving away a prize today, wrapped up in a neat, entertaining package and decorated with a ball. It was no wonder it looked like the entirety of coastal Redania had arrived on their front lawn.

He wasn’t surprised. His parents were well-liked for their fair ruling of the lands they controlled, but they were equally liked for the lavish parties they liked to throw. It wasn’t all a front, but every event, gift, and act of service was part of a carefully calculated plan to keep the populace happy and maintain appearances.

His mother, for all that she was kind, was incredibly shrewd and good with people. She knew what would keep them happiest (and what would shut them up). His father was a strict man, committed to the principles of duty and obedience. At the same time, he wouldn’t hesitate to manipulate a situation in his favor. Jaskier loved them, but he didn’t always like them.

Hygge was a sizeable estate just shy of a week’s ride north of Jaskier’s home in Koselig. Its accompanying village was full of fishermen and farmers alike, with the coast nearby and plenty of fertile land to till. The former Lord who’d ruled over the property for the last twenty years had died two months prior. Rather unfortunately for everyone, he passed without an heir. Even more unfortunately, he had done a poor job managing things in the last five years. Much work would need to be done by the new proprietor.

His parents needed someone to manage the property and township. Jana, as heir to their family estate, had been assisting with the property in the months since the former Lord’s passing. This obviously wasn’t a long-term solution as she would take over in Koselig one day.

They had decided to select a new proprietor, ideally a knight looking to settle down or a lower member of the peerage without many responsibilities. And because his mother had a flair for dramatics, what better way to find someone willing than a tournament?

It was great marketing, he had to hand it to her. Undoubtedly, they would find someone today.

“Gentlemen! Please present yourself to the venerable Pankratz family!”

Jaskier put on his most polite and courtly smile for the introductions. One by one, the assembled lords and knights stepped up to the box. There was a Lord Valdo from Cidaris who seemed utterly obnoxious–-gods, he hoped he didn’t win. A knight from Roggeveen with a peculiar mustache. Another Lord So-and-So from Denesle who sounded absolutely drunk off his ass—that would make for a good show.

He almost fell out of his chair when he spotted a familiar red gambeson and mop of brown hair. Flashes of last night sent a rush of blood to a very unfortunate place as he locked gazes with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

Their bodies meeting in an intimate embrace. Eskel’s calloused hands gripping his hips tightly. Deep, rumbling groans as Jaskier rode him. The insatiable desire for more. And afterward, those same work-worn hands stroking soothingly down his back. Sweaty bangs tenderly brushed off his forehead. A gentle hand cleaning him up with a rough-hewn cloth. A handsome face, enhanced by scars, relaxed and sated in sleep.

Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

Eskel dipped into a formal bow. “Sir Eskel, Witcher of the Wolf School.”

“Ha!” His father burst out, with great amusement. “A witcher, competing in my tournament! Surely you can’t be serious.”

“Deadly so, my Lord,” Eskel’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes cool. Despite this, he gave no outward signs of annoyance, his posture remaining relaxed and easy.

“Oh?” His father raised an imperious brow. “And do you meet the entry requirements? One must be an established member of the peerage or a knight to compete. This isn’t a tournament for just anyone.”

“How fortunate, then,” Eskel drawled, “that I am knighted. His Royal Highness, Windhalm of Attre, knighted me four summers ago. Dealt with a rotfiend problem he was having, nasty business.”

Alfred did not say a word, but one look at his face said enough about his frustration. Eskel paid no mind.

“Convenient as well that he granted me the title Baronet of Attre, as a personal honor for my services. Still a peasant at heart and in title, but the words are pretty, yeah?”

Eskel rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in a seemingly bashful gesture. “Aye, a shame I turned the land down at the time. After all, a witcher? A proprietor? Can’t be serious.” He gave a deep belly laugh at the thought, throwing his head back. “Changed my mind, though. I’ve rather come to like the idea of settling down.”

The tension could be cut with a knife. Jaskier, his sister, his mother–hell, even the herald–all waited, staring at Alfred in suspense.

“Well then, my Lord? Do I pass the test?” The witcher gave a winning smile, the epitome of mannerly but possessing an air of cold detachment Jaskier knew his father detested. It was the same persona his father used at court.

Color crept up Alfred’s collar. Jaskier could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. He hid a smile behind his hand, biting his lip. Entertainment, indeed.

Alfred cleared his throat. “Well, Sir Eskel of the Wolf School, Baronet de Attre, it certainly seems you do. We look forward to seeing you… compete.” Alfred gave a stiff and reluctant nod, dismissing him. The moment was over.

Or, well, Jaskier thought it was.

Eskel gave his family another formal bow. His eyes met Jaskier’s with intention as he rose back to his full height. Jaskier felt his breath catch in his throat as gold met blue.

There was something there, in his gaze. A heat–not the burning kind, no, but something pleasant. Like hot cider on a winter’s night. Like a fire to warm cold bones--or an aching heart. Jaskier felt a shiver down his spine.

He felt trapped in that stare, unable to look away. He gave a coquettish smile, unable to resist his natural flirtation even for a moment, particularly with the witcher. Eskel gave a charming, boyish grin back, inclining his head deeply before turning away.

And oh, what a lovely sight he made. Although his trousers really did look better off…

“What the hell was that?” Jana hissed into his ear, breaking the spell Jaskier had fallen under.

“What was what?” Jaskier asked in his best attempt at innocence, rubbing sweaty palms against his knees.

“You know what. Do you know him?”

“We may have met before - hard to say, I meet a lot of people.”

Jana scoffed, pushing against his shoulder with her own at his non-answer. Jaskier laughed, fondly, and turned his attention back to the field.

Neither of them noticed Alfred’s piercing stare as he eyed them with suspicion.

(1/3)

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eggcompany · 9 months ago

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Jaskier and His Snuggly Wuggly Killing Machines Part 17

Spin off from our story 'Jaskier and the Snuggly Wuggly Killing Machines' !!!

The story of Aiden and Lambert's marriage. Includes mentions of blood and sexual dysfunction.

“Daddy… um… Jaskier, can we talk to you. Alone. For just a minute.” Lambert asked quietly. He was holding tightly onto Aiden’s hand as they both looked down in front of Jaskier. Jaskier was sitting on the porch writing down some lyrics and ideas as Eskel fluttered around his planters. Geralt was laying out in the sunlight. Jaskier looked at the cats, worriedly.

“Yes, yeah of course. Eskel, I’m gonna step into the house for a moment, stay out here with Bear. Come on kitties.” Jaskier says and calls to the eldest who nods. Jaskier steps into the living room and the two motioned for him to sit down on the couch. They sit close to each other on the opposite side of the plush black couch looking at him nervously.

“What’s this about? Are you two okay? What’s going on?” Jaskier said and looked between the two. Both were blushing and looked rather nervous. Oh gods what if it’s a preganc-

“We wanted to ask for your blessing.” Lambert spit out really quickly. It pulled Jaskier out of his own mind. Jaskier looked confused for a moment before Aiden took a deep breath and explained.

“Roy wants to move away. He doesn’t want to bring me with him since I… have Lambert here. He agreed to let me choose where I go and I talked to Lambert for so long and… We want to know if you’d give blessing to our marriage? I wanna stay here, with my mate. I think I’d die of heartbreak if I had to leave him again…” Aiden said and let his eyes flash up to Jaskier’s a few times. Jaskier listened intently. He stared at them before his jaw dropped and he smiled widely.

“Oh. My. Gods. YES!!!! Oh yes yes yes! What kind of unions do witchers partake in? Oh I’ll have so much food delivered and we can do whatever you want! Oh my babies are getting married! Oh finally! I’ll have to call Roy for your papers. Oh my gods Yes yes yes yes yes!” Jaskier said and jumped to pull the boys into a big hug. He kissed both of their cheeks and foreheads and all over their faces. Both boys hugged back and started saying thank you’s. When Jaskier pulled back he saw that they had tears in their eyes.

“Thank you Jaskier. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Aiden cried and hugged Lambert. They had wanted to do this since they were young… before they were even out in the world. They cried and held onto each other chanting thank you’s. Jaskier jumped and stepped outside.

“BOYS! Come congratulate your brothers!” Jaskier says and goes back and hugs them together again. Eskel walks in first and sees them crying.

“You told him? Yes? Oh Jaskier you said they could?!” Eskel smiled widely and hugged the newly engaged pair. Geralt walked in and kissed Lambert’s cheek.

“Finally. Finally Lammy. You get to have your union.” Geralt whispered and teared up as he spoke to Lambert. Lambert smiled and looked so happy he might burst. Aiden doesn’t look much different. They kiss and Geralt and Eskel move to stand next to Jaskier.

“Witcher’s practice blood unions. Vesemir might still have what we need. It’s palm pricking or slicing and then being tied together by silk, usually a scarf or just a strip of fabric. I’ll use the house phone to call Vesemir.” Eskel explained. Geralt wiped his tears and nodded.

“I’ll help them find something nice to wear on the laptop. Oh my gods they’re finally getting to marry.” Geralt said. He felt like a weeping mother but he walked to the basement to get the laptop Jaskier had bought for them. Jaskier smiled and bent down to kiss the boy’s cheeks.

“I will call Roy and have him mail me your papers. Can I tell Yennefer? She’ll be over the moon.” Jaskier asks and pulls out his cell phone. Lambert sniffs up his nose and nods.

“Yeah, Aunty Yenn can know, we don’t want it to be a secret. You can tell whoever you want.” Aiden explained and quickly pulled Lambert to face him completely and seal their lips together tightly.

Jaskier patted their heads and quickly clicked Yennefer’s number. It rang two times before she picked up.

“Hey Ja-”

“MY BABIES ARE GETTING MARRIED! Get your ass over here.” Jaskier said excitedly. Yennefer was quiet for a moment. She had just been yelled at but still…

“If it’s not Lammy and Aiden I’m gonna skin them alive.” She said quietly. Jaskier laughed and ended her worries.

“Yes, it's Aiden and Lambert. Now come on, we need to plan!” Jaskier said happily and hung up. He started thinking.

He had some space in the back outside the fence… maybe enough room for a little ‘loveshack’...

“Lammy! Baby, darling, my mushy wushy little angel! What can aunty get you for your wedding? What do you want?” Yennefer asked a few days away from the union.

The transfer papers were getting processed and on the way. The plan was for Vesemir to kind of officiate, he would prick the boy’s palms (the father of higher status was supposed to but Vesemir was their Papa.) and Jaskier would tie the silk scarf (the lesser man’s job, Jaskier was still quite honored).

There was a large tarp hanging from the two trees that stood at the corners of the backyard. Behind it workers built a small building. Luckily enough the plumbing could be run by digging alongside the fence. It was a small little building that resembled a mini version of a farmhouse.

There was a space with just enough room to fit a king size bed with a closet attached. There was a small bathroom with an average sized tub, toilet, and sink. There was a main area of the house that had a TV, pull out couch, a small fridge, and a countertop along one wall. There was a square ‘porch’ in front of the door that Jaskier had decided to put so they love birds could have flowers or maybe a few rocking chairs. It was a quaint little home that was only right outside the mansion’s back door. Yennefer and Jaskier had ordered and hid all the supplies to decorate and fancy up the house once the painters were done.

“Um… Me and Aiden might want a few new blankies… big ones. Cause we really like our blankies now! We do! They’re so soft and nice and snuggly but they can’t fit around us both good. That would be really nice Aunty.” Lammy said from where he had his head laid on her lap.

She was scratching lightly at his ears and just enjoying his purrs that mingled with the other kitty asleep on his chest. Aiden was dead asleep after getting loved on all day by Vesemir and the other boys. Yennefer smiled down at the kit and ruffled his hair.

“Of course! Are you sure that’s all? You know I won’t tell daddy what you ask for.” Yennefer reminded him. Sometimes it was easier for the pups to ask her for something if they were embarrassed. Geralt had asked for ‘lady undergarments ’ a few months ago, he really just wanted to feel pretty.. Jaskier had found out because Geralt liked to wear them to bed, though during the days he wore them under his boxer briefs. Eskel wanted a heating pad for his leg cramps but didn’t want Jaskier to know about his cramps so Yennefer didn’t tell. Lambert knew about the things she’d given his brothers.

Lambert flushed red at a thought. He didn’t want to seem...lewd. Sure Aiden had entertained him but they hadn’t been able to… couple. Neutered and all. He looked down at where Aiden was face down on his stomach.

“You won’t think I’m icky?” Lambert says quietly and looks at the ceiling instead of at the woman. Yennefer moved her hand to cradle the cat’s face.

“Nope. I won’t think you’re icky.” Yennefer reassured and ran her thumb up and down across his cheek. Lambert bit his bottom lip and scrunched his eyebrows together for a moment before sighing and relaxing.

“Can I ask you for medicine?” He whispered. Yennefer was confused. Was this like Eskel and his cramps?

“Of course dear, I’m a doctor, you can ask me for medicine. What kind of medicine do you need?” Yennefer whispered back. She had learned that when the babes whispered, you best whisper back if you want an answer. Lambert looked down at his snoozing mate.

“Something so we can… consummate our marriage… if it’s possible.” He says in a voice barely loud enough for the woman to hear. Yennefer smiled down at him and rubbed at the base of his ears.

“I think I can pull some strings.” She said and Lambert broke out in a big smiled, face still tomato red.

Time was ticking. Tomorrow was the day. And Jaskier was absolutely shitting himself.

He had posted the announcement online and had been flooded with packages and letters and messages for the last three days! He had to go to the post office every day to go collect his P.O. box and yes he appreciated everything but it was so overwhelming! Him and Yennefer stayed up late going through and weeding out the bad packages from the good gifts. There were brushes and treats and homemade socks and hats and quite a few blankets. And the letters! Hundreds of letters. Some to the boys, some to Jaskier, some to Geralt who had become the boy most of the fans thirsted for… (Jaskier kept those to himself. Geralt wouldn’t like reading most of them.)

And then there was the Kitty House which was perfect but some of the decorations were still in postage.

He was every color of flustered and struggling.

Thankfully Vesemir was happy to help and contain the babes and help the cats choose the day.

Yennefer also helped.

She mostly situated the new small home. She had chosen the entirety of what it would look like. From the dark stained walnut hardwood floors to the rustic theme that flowed through the house. The green walls, warm browns, blacks, and tans. She had accent carpets, squared ceiling lamps, and a fully stocked bedside table. Matching towels and accents in the bathroom. You automatically felt at home in the house. It also helped that she had been lighting a nice honey candle while she worked. Jaskier walked around looking at everything one last time before he would lock the door until the next day when he would present it to the newlyweds. He checked the kitchen. Snacks, drinks, cans of spaghetti Os and Ravioli, running water, ice maker…

With a sigh of relief and locked the door and walked back to their own home.

What a disaster.

There were four boys dead asleep in the middle of the floor in a big shirtless pile with Vesemir resting in the recliner, rocking back and forth gently. Past that though? Piles. Piles of dishes in the sink, decorations in boxes to be put up in the morning, boxes upon boxes of gifts for the kittens from himself, his friends, and thousands of fans around the world. Piles of blankets and pillows that were once a nest but the boys had grown too hot for. Jaskier sighed again, this time in discontent and started cleaning up.

He finished the dishes as Yennefer made her way through the entry. She looked over at Jaskier at the sink and snickered as she peaked at the sleeping pups, smiling lightly at the small sleep noises they were making.

“You’re tired, aren’t you.” She said and leaned her hip against the counter top to the man’s left. He looked at her and rolled his eyes. Even after a shift at the hospital, she still somehow looked like a model. It was disgusting.

“Yeah. I’m actually fucking exhausted. Mind if I take a nap?” He asked. He felt like he could fall asleep on the floor at the moment. Yennefer walked to stand beside him and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re a good daddy to them, Jask, you’re doing such a good job. They are happy, healthy, and they love you. Go take a nap. I’ll order burgers for dinner. Go sleep Julian.” Yennefer said and patted his back. She shoved him toward the stairs but just the thought of climbing them made him want to die. Jaskier instead walked to the end of the couch and flopped down face first and wiggled around until his head was on a pillow. He closed his eyes and was dead to the world.

“No Papa, you have to hold him. He holds us when we get too sleepy. We can’t! You’re the papa.” Floated into Jaskier’s ears as he slowly came out of what must be the best sleep he’s had all week.

He felt heavenly heavy as he slowly woke up. He listened for a moment before opening his eyes.

“Babies, shush, you have to be quieter.” Jaskier realized it was Vesemir’s voice, deep and barely above a whisper. What he found confusing though is that the couch rumbled when he spoke. How odd.

Jaskier cracked open his eyes and was met with a sight. He was laying in the eldest witcher’s lap, head resting against his shoulder, with all four youngin’s sitting around the recliner chair. Geralt was sitting on the floor with his chin resting against the arm of the chair watching Jaskier with big round eyes. Eskel had his head propped on his fist on the footrest of the chair, Vesemir must’ve flipped it up while Jaskier slept, looking like he was almost asleep again. Lambert and Aiden were behind him resting against the side of the chair dozing peacefully, facing each other.

“Oh, hi daddy…” Geralt said when Jaskier blinked and locked eyes with him. Vesemir had one hand wrapped around his waist and rubbed gently at his side as Jaskier yawned.

“The boys insisted that I had to hold you because that’s what you do to them when they sleep. I didn’t mind.” Vesemir said as he lightly squeezed Jaskier’s hip. The man sat up and stretched to plant a soft kiss to the older man’s cheek. A light pink rose up to his cheeks as Jaskier was pulled over the side of the chair into Geralt’s lap.

“Thank you Vesemir, that was very sweet of you to do. Geralt?” Jaskier said from his seat in the cuddle witcher’s lap. Geralt wrapped his arms tightly around Jaskier’s torso, shoving his face into Jaskier’s neck. His ears tickled at Jaskier’s face.

“Yes daddy?” Geralt replied sweetly without removing his face from the warm skin of Jaskier’s neck. He was inhaling deeply, taking in the nice scent of his daddy’s skin and hair.

“Can you let me up?” Jaskier said in a soft love filled voice. Geralt nodded and lifted Jaskier up by the hips. Jaskier smiled, his boys were so strong. Jaskier stretched his arms above his head.

“Okay, everyone up. Dinner, bathes, then bed. We have a big day tomorrow.” Jaskier announced as the boys tiredly stood and made their way to the kitchen where Yennefer was on the phone.

Oh Lords…. My babies are getting married.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jaskier woke up at 4 a.m. He woke up in his bed, alone for once in many months. Alone in the bed, not alone in the room. The floor however was a mindfield. Geralt was at the foot of the bed sucking lightly on the tip of Eskel’s tail. Eskel was face down in the carpet with one leg straight and the other bent, his usual position due to his habitual self soothing at night. Aiden and Lambert were closely cuddled on the large pile of quilts that usually occupied the floor beside the bed.

Jaskier tipped toed carefully around them in the dark room, cautious to not trip on a blanket or step on a tail. He closed the door behind himself as he walked to the kitchen. Yennefer was already sitting on the couch with the TV on, warm cup of coffee in her hand. She smiled at him as he flumped down in the chair closest to the couch. A documentary about the fall of Witcher Guard Animal training and creations was on with subtitles. Yennefer waved and flicked it over to a show about sharks.

“Just… learning. How do we feel Mr. Father-of-the-Groom?” Yennefer said quietly as she looked at the man. Jaskier had dark circles under his eyes and looked absolutely exhausted.

“Great.” Jaskier said and cracked a true big smile. His corn blue eyes sparkled with joy. Yennefer smiled and stood up.

Only so many hours in a day and at least two needed to be dedicated to coffee and started the meals and double checking.

Hours rolled by. The two humans worked calmly. Jaskier felt more and more relaxed the more they got done. He felt calm as he wove flower chains from the fresh flowers that had been delivered. It was therapeutic. One foot turned into a yard turned into a dozen yards and soon the flowers were hung in a large loop in the backyard from wooden stakes. He breathed easily as he wove more and more chains to hang down from the ring and created a curtain of blossoms of all colors.

Soon the sun warmed away the grass’s dew and he laid out the blankets and mats Eskel, Geralt, and Vesemir had made. ‘ Customs, Jaskier’ he’d been told. They were large, loosely woven and made from all sorts of fabric that he assumed Vesemir had provided. They covered all the ground from the bottom of the steps of the patio to the ring to flowers and all the ground inside the ring.

Yennefer was busy in the kitchen. She had cleaned the fridge out and organized what was needed for the large dinner. The food should arrive right before the ceremony. She made sure the outfits that were chosen were clean and spiffy. The outfits being a royal blue button up shirt, an olive green button up shirt, and two matching pairs of brown trousers.

Vesemir said he’d dress the boys and take care of the beforehand preparations of the cats. He had shown Jaskier the red silken scarf that was once used in many ceremonies and unions in the old Kaer.

Soon 9 a.m. came around, a thunk rang out through the quiet house. It was followed by a white haired witcher quietly stepping down the stairs. Jaskier watched him yawn and stretch his tail as he walked. Jaskier stopped tying up a gift a fan had sent, it was a rather nice set of squishy blue chew toys, to watch the nude wolf make his way to the bottom three steps. When Geralt reached the third to last step he stopped, eyes wide.

“Hi” He said and reached to cover himself. He usually wasn’t so modest but apparently the presence of a few small dark looking bruises scattered around his thighs turned him into a prude. Jaskier raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.

“Good morning Bear, what’re you up too? Wanna come have breakfast?” He asked as if he didn’t see the hickies near the base of his tail as he turned around to walk quickly back up the stairs.

“No daddy! Thanks but not hungry!” He said and walked back toward Jaskier’s door. Jaskier let out a chuckle and continued to wrap gifts until he was done. Half an hour had passed and Jaskier climbed the stairs. There was rustling and talking but he couldn’t make out what was being said. He knocked on his own door before opening it.

Lambert and Aiden rolled off the side of the bed wrapped up in blankets so they laid between the wall and the bed opposite to the door. Eskel and Geralt were wiping their mouths and scooting away from each other. Aiden called out first.

“We weren't doing it!” He said and his bed head popped up over the edge of the bed. Lambert groaned in embarrassment. Jaskier laughed and looked at the two older boys on the floor. Their ears were flat against their heads in shame and their tails were curled around to hide their crotches.

“We weren’t doing anything… promise.” Geralt said and looked up with big amber eyes. Jaskier smiled and shook his head as he walked over and rubbed at the hair between his ears.

“You’re all just boys. Come on. Time to get up and get dressed! We’ll have breakfast and Papa is almost here. Come on. Wedding day! Wedding day!” Jaskier chanted as he left the room. The boys got up and went to their own rooms.

“Do you think I did okay? We can always change it.” Jaskier asked as Eskel and Geralt brushed their tails and pulled on their plain black trousers and crisp white shirts that buttoned halfway. Jaskier thought they looked so dashing and clean with their ears and tails freshly cleaned and brushed and their skin clean and softened with lotion.

“It’s perfect! Jaskier, you did a wonderful job! I’m sure Lammy and Aiden will fully agree.” Eskel said as he pressed a light kiss on Jaskier's forehead. Geralt came and kissed the other side of his head.

“It’s so pretty Daddy. So much food, too! Couldn’t have hung better chains from the stone walls myself. Lambert’s gonna be giddy like a little girl when he sees it all.” Geralt said and smiled and looked toward the stairs, up toward where the soon to be newlyweds were getting washed, brushed, and dressed.

“Thank you boys. Always so sweet! Now go find your spot and sit. Me and Yen will be out soon.” Jaskier said and patted the boys on the bums as they walked out to take their seats on the rug, sitting with their backs to the house leaving a nice space between them. Leaving the walkway open for the cats to walk hand in hand.

Soon Jaskier was standing with tears running down his cheeks and his lips pulled tight in the biggest smile. Vesemir had told him what to wear, a nice white shirt and a pair of blue trousers. As per tradition no one wore shoes or heavy coats. ‘ The Earth binds us all together, boy, less layers brings us all together. Weddings are no place to show stature in society.’ Vesemir had explained to him a few days ago when he was looking at suits.

Vesemir stood with silk and newly polished golden pin in his hands. He looked perfectly dashing, radiant and glowing. Jaskier had helped him in the bath while Geralt and Eskel washed upstairs. His grey hair shimmered like polished silver, brushed and smooth floating around his shoulders. His ears were clean and brushed into a perfect point and his tail was treated similarly. Jaskier knew he was hurting but put on a wide smile for his boys. He had been rubbing at his knees and groaning from his hips all morning. Still, he looked like he could never be happier.

Yennefer was sitting between Geralt and Vesemir on the rug looking as regal and beautiful as ever. She had no makeup on and her hair was flowing in soft curls. She was wearing a lovely simple purple sundress and had a small light purple flower tucked behind her ear. ‘ No mother, no sister, no daughters or kids, but perhaps a lovely aunt will hand you over?’ Vesemir had said a few days ago. Men bond them together but only a woman or a child could give them away.

Lambert and Aiden walked out of the twin doors of the house, hand and hand, smiles bright enough to blind the sun. Shirts all clean and soft looking, feet bare yet clean, and ears and tails brushed and smoothed and pointed.

Step by step more tears ran down Jaskier’s face. The ground almost shook with the sound of the grooms and their brother’s purring. There was the rhythmic thumps of wagging tails coming from the ground.

They stopped to stand in front of Yennefer. Lambert smiled at his aunt as she rose up, with the slight assistant of Geralt’s offered hand, she took their open hands into her own and stepped to stand beside Vesemir. She did what they had practiced. She held their hands palms up as Vesemir took the pin and as gently as possible pricked the middle of their palms. She then went back to sit beside Geralt.

Jaskier quickly wipes away his tears just so new could fall. He took the silk into his trembling hands and made the loop as Vesemir spoke. Jaskier tied when he was supposed to as Vesemir said the words. Jaskier had no idea what he was saying, some old witcher language he said it was. Lambert was tearing up a bit and Aiden’s purrs were loud and strong enough to make him shake.

With a final word Jaskier tried the bow around the now clasped hands. With a tear running down the oldest witcher’s face the ceremony concluded. Aiden and Lambert stood with tears running down their faces, faced each other, rubbed their noses together for a moment before kissing each other lightly.

Geralt and Eskel hooped and hollered and clapped. Yennefer smiled and clapped. Vesemir wipes the tear from his cheek and patted their shoulders.

“Off you go now. Go to your home. My kittens…” Vesemir said and the boys hugged him and turned to Jaskier who was bawling like a baby, waving them off.

Like two giddy kids they took off to the small house a few yards away. They opened the door, Aiden opened the door really as his right hand was free, and they stopped by the doorway and waved at the four on the rugs before walking through.

“Yen, I need a glass of wine.”

<- Last Chapter

#egg_company #the witcher fanfic #witchers #witcher geralt #witcher lambert #witcher aiden #witcher eskel #vesemir #yennefer #geralt #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #julian alfred pankratz

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