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eggcompany · 8 months ago

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Heart to Heart and Back Again Part 1

Count Julian Pankratz, a chronically ill man who has more love than he knows what to do with with his short life. That was until he met his new nursemaid, a mysterious new man in town, Geralt. They grow to love each other, each thriving off each other, each learning to love, to live, to truly feel alive because of each other. Geralt had been around for so long he didn't even know he could love. Julian had been convinced no one would ever love him. Soulmates, they were crafted for each other at their very cores.

But unfortunately destiny had other plans. Julian gets sick, he grows weaker and weaker, and he leaves Geralt. The white haired man doesn't know what to do with his empty heart, empty hands, and wish only to bring his one love back.

There was only one person for him in life. Julian. And he was dead.

Or is he...? One stranger's trek up a mountain a few hundred years later might just change Geralt's mind.

“I can stand, good first impressions.” Julian said as he leaned heavily on his cane. He waited for the door to open for the new nursemaid. He shooed the maid away once she dropped off some food, she laughed at him and made her way through the side doors. He was leaning on his cane trying to get other the pain that was dragging at the base of his back.

The door did open and he was shaking, straining, heart starting to speed up.

“Hello, welcome, hurry up and shake my hand before I pass out. Thank you” he said quickly and grabbed the man’s huge hand in his own and then sat back down in his wheelchair. He started getting some big breaths in trying to get his heart to slow back down.

He then took in the man’s looks. He was large, strong looking, had silver nearly white hair, golden eyes, and his clothes were dirty. He was extremely handsome where his hair hung over his forehead and was held back by a small black tie.

“It’s an honor to serve you count.” He said and bowed which Julian shushed and waved his hand at.

“Oh pish posh, now come sit down with me. I had Lizzy bring up some really good stuff. She's a witch in the kitchen, literally but also she cooks so well I’ve cried. I personally have a sweet tooth but also I love eggs scrambled or omelets, those are French. Do you eat eggs?” Julians asked and wheeled himself over to his breakfast table, only one other chair at the table.

Geralt was confused but followed him awkwardly standing by the table before Julian leaned over and patted the seat and removed the cloches from their plates. There were two plates of scrambled eggs, some pan fried meat, small loaves of bread, and a cup of something melted and spiced looking.

“Do you not eat eggs? We have a large coop and a lot of livestock on the estate, feel free to explore as you please. I personally would love to get back there to see the sheep, I’ve always loved them.” Julian said as he picked up a fluffy spiced egg and popped it into his mouth smiling at Geralt. He hoped the man would stay, he felt some kind of… change in himself at just the sight of the man. Something ws changing in his heart.

Geralt, who sat down, remained confused. There’s a plate set in front of him but… why? What? He’d heard of the “Flower” of the rich estate family but… the weak shaky young man wasn’t what he’d imagined. He’d been around for a very long time and he’d yet to meet someone like Julian.

Julian stared at him waiting but then shook his head and looked down. Soft smile on his lips and kindness running pure in his eyes.

“Dig in my friend, I’m a lonely man, I treat my servants well. I don’t expect you to stay for the rest of my life, I don’t expect you to feel loyalty to me. I only request you be kind. So in return for your kindness, you have free rein of the estate. Choose a room for yourself, no matter where, make food to your taste, slaughter what you please, grow what you please, just include me please.” Julian said in a sad voice that hurt Geralt's heart. He was just a boy, a kid wanting someone to play with him.

He’d never met a count as… souled as Julian. He thought he’d be a chamber maid to some priss, to clean and be quiet. He’d never met someone so… honest and full of humanity's best quality, compassion and companionship, friendship and love.

Geralt should have known Julian would be good. The other servants seemed happy, like a community. All chatting as they worked, some laughing and others humming tunes as they did their business leisurely.

He was confused, though. Why?

“Count-” He started just for Julian to groan and shake his head.

“Julian, please.” The boy said and took another bite of food. He hated being called ‘ count’ ; it made him feel old.

“Julian, why? Why share your wealth?” Geralt asked and watched the boy drink from a cup it looked like... milk? What wealthy person didn't drink wine with their meals?

"My father brought home a sickness, when I was younger. He gave it to my entire family, my mother, my sisters, me. They all slowly died around me. And I survived. Why? My father was one of the wealthiest counts in this entire land. My sisters were more beautiful than precious gems, my mother had acres and acres of land. I was the youngest, and most uninterested in growing our wealth and taking on more land. Why did I survive if not to share? One day I will die, I can't produce an heir, who will take care of me? Who will make sure I am happy in my final days? Who will take over this home? I'm a creature of society, Geralt, dear, I surround myself with good company. I surround myself with friends . I think you're supposed to be nice and share with your friends." Julian said and leaned forward against the table, smiling, and Geralt was shaking his head. Astonished. He was just a kid, poetic words made from a luxury life.

"Are you quick to befriend someone like me? You have no idea where I've been, where I'm from, what I've done. Why do you welcome me like a long lost friend?" Geralt asked and Julian was huffed and laughed as his eyes glittered. He looked right at Geralt’s face, cheeks chubby and joy coursing through him. Geralt felt a bit younger himself, his boulders lifting slightly from his shoulders just meeting the kid.

"You are my long lost friend. I can feel it here in my heart. We are meant to be together, our destinies entwined. Like soup!” Julian said and broke out in a big smile, hands coming to grab Geralt’s across the table. Geralt didn’t pull his hands back but he was nervous until Julian squeezed their hands together. Julian looked right in his eyes, solidifying how serious he was.

“Now!" The boy said and dropped his silverware and clapped his hands together. Geralt watched him curiously. Julian rubbed his hands together excitedly.

"Have you ever had a honey cake baked with pork fat instead of butter?" Julian asked and lifted the glass cloche off the small cake that had been sitting to the side. His bottom lip was caught in his smile, a hunger filling his eyes that Geralt only ever seen in brothels.

"Pork fat instead of butter?" Geralt asked and Julian was quick to cut him a large piece and put it on a separate plate, handing it to him before getting a big piece for himself.

"Yes! It'll make you cream your trousers, I've never had anything better. Now, you're being rude by not eating so dig in before I start crying." Julian said and shoved a big bite into his mouth. Geralt thought he was funny, the way the boy’s cheeks puffed out and crumbs stuck to his soft looking lips.

Geralt lifted it up and sniffed it before taking a bite. He moaned and chewed, looking at the boy’s smug look. It was… incredible. Sweet and indulgent and fattening oily and rich. Something Geralt hadn’t tasted since his days of stealing from royals as a young man.

"I told you!" the boy said and they ate in silence. Until Julian leaned back in his chair, rubbing his belly, he wasn’t very round just kinda… plush. Like a feather pillow or fresh baked buns.

He watched Geralt eat like a man starved, looking a bit starved. He hated seeing hungry people. That’s why when he went into town he made sure to fill his pockets with sweets for the kids. He liked Geralt, the way he shoved food into his mouth and flashed his eyes around like a feral dog. He had nice hair and big hands and looked strong under his tattered clothes.

"It's a nice day out today. My last nurse, she would put me out on the balcony usually. She wasn't a considerably strong woman, usually she'd call the yard boy, Edwin, to carry me down the stairs if I needed to be on the floor of the estate. I do miss being able to be around the animals. I rather like them." Julian said and laughed and shook his head. He hadn't been able to see the animals in years since his last nurse couldn't really wheel him out in the dirt. When he was a child he liked to go run around in the sheep pens, petting them and feeding them and feeling their soft noses. He did miss it terribly…

Geralt swallowed the large bit of egg and bread that was in his mouth and wiped his face with his sleeve. He didn’t much care about manners. He had them, just didn’t use them.

"I could take you, easily. Even if I had to pick your chair up, it wouldn't be very hard." He said and was almost blinded by how bright Julian’s smile was.

"Oh that would be wonderful. Not today though, today I think you need a tour and to get a good wash up and perhaps we can find you some clothes that fit you better. Perhaps we wear the same!" Julian said giddily. He loved sharing, clothes, food, anything. But it would be so fun to dress Geralt up, maybe do his hair, polish his nails, all the things that Julian loved to do. All the pampering things.

Geralt nodded, blush burning under his skin. He couldn't imagine how... dirty he must seem. He’d not been able to buy new clothes since his own had been stolen. He didn’t think to try and scrub the stains from his clothes before coming, assuming he’d just be put to work without meeting the head of the house.

"I apologize for my appearance I-" Geralt started to apologize, nerves ebbing into his voice. He knew most wealthy people hated the look of dirty clothes in such a pristine home. Julian just waved him off, thin hand pale, nails shiny.

"Nonsense, If I could I'd be rolling in the mud half my days. I love the outdoors, the fresh air, I’d adore just one more walk through the orchard... but we all live life as we can. We have a large bath downstairs or you are welcome to pick a room and we can manage a bath in there for you. Though downstairs I hear is the best for baths." Julian said and smiled, he would love to go downstairs and see everyone.

Most of the people who worked never really made it up to Julian room. Usually leaving the young count to himself and his nurse and even then she was usually preparing his medicine and his bed and such. Sometimes they’d come by to show him something or ask if they could do something with the house. Bringing him fresh fruit from the orchard or asking to repaint the lattice. He’d like it more if he could actually go see them all and talk with them, be a part of their day to day, but… well he was okay with how things were.

Geralt nodded and stood up, dusting the crumbs off himself.

"Do you want to give me a tour?" Geralt asked, and Julian was glad to be pushed about, cane held between his knees. He wasn't strong enough to walk but he stood for a moment a few times. He liked being able to see the house, he told stories from when his sister painted on the walls and how he once climbed onto the roof to scare his mother but instead fell and landed on her.

Geralt smiled and listened intently, helping Julian to sit back down when he started to tremble. He enjoyed the flowery and detailed way Julian described everything, as if he was writing a poem as he spoke. Each detail being told like it held the whole story together, words mixing like perfume in the air. Geralt liked it.

----

Geralt liked living beside the Count. He easily found a place in the home, the room next to Julian’s own. He found a schedule and stepped easily to it. He found out that most clothes Julian wore he could fit into also, though a bit snug on the shoulders.

It was easy day to day.

He would wake up with the sun, wash his face, comb his hair, go down to the kitchen and find something to eat, usually eating some dried meat from a very old dusty box in the pantry. He’d get dressed in a nice outfit, a coat, shined shoes, clothes too rich for someone like him. He’d go wake up Julian by knocking lightly on the door, and going to the large cushy bed and finding one of Julian’s fragile hands.

Julian warned him that he slept heavy and that he also bruised easily so a good shake to a shoulder would… not be the best option. So Geralt would find a pale hand and give it a good squeeze and some gentle rubs and Julian would be yawning and blinking awake.

“Oh good morning, dear, how did you sleep?”

“Good morning Geralt, dear, have you eaten?”

“Mornin’ Grlt, I feel a bit drunk still, are you hungry?”

“Good morning, dear”

Julian always had to welcome Geralt to the day. Always had something to grumble out first thing, always started the day with words. And each day Geralt felt closer and closer, he started sitting on the edge of the boy’s bed to hold his hand before waking him up.

Each day Julian would marvel at Geralt, telling him that somehow just seeing his ‘pretty golden eyes’ made him feel better. Julian would tell Geralt about the books he’d read, play his harp or his lute when he could, sometimes he’d ask Geralt to bring him things. Sometimes it was puzzles, or chess. Geralt found Julian was a very very good chess player but he preferred checkers.

And his dolls. Julian had a mountain of beautifully crafted dolls. Some were wood, others glass, others porcelaine. Julian had a story for each one, where it was from, who got it for him, when he got it, everything. Julian loved his dolls, he had a few that had on simpler outfits that he occasionally liked to carry around with him when he was feeling especially bad. He liked to brush their hair and put different outfits on them. He knew all their names, Amice, Joy, and Helewis being his favorites. Those three sat by his bed and often in his bed and were often moved around and carried.

Geralt never really had toys but when a fever delusional Julian placed a doll in his lap and told him to take care of her, well damn it he was going to figure it out. Geralt learned that you have to be careful when combing their hair and how you have to dress them so they don’t break and how to clean them when you drop a cup of tea on them. He learned how to keep them nice but also love them.

Each day Geralt spent with the boy, each day he heard the rumbly good morning, each day he ate three meals with him, each day he helped the boy into the warm tub, each day Geralt felt like he had never before. Warm and happy and his heart… his heart felt full . And it was all because of Julian.

----

"Geralt? Would you please get me something to eat? I'm feeling oddly hungry." Julian said as he sat down from where he had been standing against the rail of the balcony. Somehow he felt... better today. He yelled hello to Edwin who was working in the garden and had been able to walk from his bed to the balcony. He had been feeling better each day it seemed these last few months. He’d been up more that was for sure. Geralt often told him that the sun would help him but also that the balcony was boring. So he was down, being rolled through the gardens or being pushed to the end of the driveway, laughing at the way the rocks bounced him around, or he was being carried down the stairs and sat at the large dining table to socialize with the servants.

Geralt really did help him.

Julian wasn’t usually embarrassed but he felt more comfortable asking for help with certain things. He no longer struggled to wash himself, simply asking Geralt to wash his back or help rinse the soap off his skin, he didn’t feel shy asking for the bedpan or hurrying to the bathroom, Geralt would simply put him there. He felt easy saying that he didn’t want to wear pants to bed or that it was warm and he didn't want to wear a shirt in the bedroom.

He was just… content and happy with Geralt. The stoic man’s short comments and quiet nature. It was comfortable.

"Do you want me to make you some eggs?” Geralt offered from where he was sipping tea in the sun, opposite from where Julian sat at the small table. The boy smiled and looked over at his friend.

“That sounds perfect, dear” Julian answered and Geralt was slow to finish his tea and stand up, walking away only to turn back.

“Come on, I’m taking you with me.” He said and soon Julian was in his chair being carried down the stairs.

He felt… alive. Warm, welcomed, happy, alive.

-----

"Geralt here gives me strength. Now, let me pour you all a drink. Do not help me." Julian ordered as he stood up from the head of the table. He left his cane behind, instead picking up a quite heavy brass pitcher. Eleven people. He just had to pour eleven drinks.

He’d been feeling better and better, each day he saw Geralt, each day that he saw everyone and got to do something fun, he just felt stronger.

Geralt had been bundling him up and taking him out into the snow, or at least getting him out into the patio. Julian had even made a little snowman, and Geralt had never felt happier sneaking out at night to make a whole group of snowmen, right under the balcony so Julian could see them. He had even given them little leaf hats made from old cabbage.

Geralt was the fuel that kept Julian trying. Kept the boy from wasting away in bed. Even on the worse days Geralt would at least bring him the little dolls and keep busy nearby.

Everyone knew it too. That’s why when Julian proposed they all have a nice big winter feast together, they all knew Geralt would be picking at them all. ‘ Be on time’ ‘Show up’ ‘Don’t help him’, That was the oddest thing. Geralt went around telling everyone not to help Julian at all.

Now they knew why. The count wanted to show his strength and independence.

A few of them held their cups up to the spout to make it a bit easier as he shaked heavily with each pour. His arms were aching by the time he got to the other end of the table. Geralt held his cup up for Julian who let the pitcher rest heavily against its rim, knowing Geralt wouldn’t let the pitcher fall.

Finally as he fell back into his chair, pitcher set hastily against the table, tears streamed down his face, he smiled and nodded, fixing his posture.

"Goodness me, Geralt's cured me hasn't he." Julian joked as his body shook and hurt horrible and tears streamed down his face from both pain and joy. Everyone clapped and raised their glasses to him. It was a good thing, to see the count so happy, so active. It was a good thing to see.

Even as he tried to pick up his cup only to have it drop from his hand and splash over the rim a bit.

"To my friends, who share their strength with me, who's companionship gives me life." Julian said, voice shaking. He smiled and they all raised their glasses, cheering a bit before digging into the feast laid across the table.

The dinner went on for hours, stories shared freely about travels and chance meetings. Some stories about even the darkest of margics, Julian was enthralled. He laughed and ate and drank and enjoyed the warmth of family around him. A warmth that he had only felt the barest of with his actual family now burn warm and white around him. He stayed until everyone else retired to their rooms, except Geralt who cleaned up.

The alcohol sparked enough confidence in himself that he started to walk to his own room, he made it halfway to the stairs before Geralt had an arm around his waist.

“Come on, princess. Up to bed with you.” Geralt rumbled, he was dead on his feet and Julian had run off on him. Julian was happy to be picked up and carried against Geralt’s chest, a much more intimate pose than how Geralt usually carried him in his chair.

Julian giggled and hugged onto Geralt’s strong broad shoulders.

“Are you the dashing prince that’s come to save me? I didn’t know I was so lucky.” Julian giggled as Geralt carried him up the stairs. The boy was dead asleep by the time he was being laid gently onto his bed. Geralt just watched him, his soft face relaxed, his chest rising and falling slowly.

Geralt let himself indulge and petted through the soft chestnut hair that fell across the boy’s face. Geralt let himself enjoy the moment for just a second longer before gently stripping Julian of his day clothes and pulling on his thick winter pajamas and tucking him in under the thick blankets.

“Gerlt? Geralt, are you here?” Julian asked sleepily as he heard the fire being built up for the night. Geralt hummed.

“Yes, Julian?” He said softly, in a way that had Julian smiling into the darkness. The boy snuggled back into his bed, warm and full and a little drunk.

“Nothing, just wanted to say thank you. Goodnight dear, I love you.” Julian said before rolling onto his side and falling fast asleep.

Geralt was a statue. I love you . Geralt felt struck by lightning. Because… well…

“I love you too, Julian.”

----

“Geralt are you- have you- have you ever-” Julian tried to ask one night as he read through one of his more dirty novels, it was french, of course.

Geralt was scrubbing the wine out of some shirts, it was a hot day out and Julian had knocked over the whole pitcher. Geralt was shirtless, sitting by the wash basin in nothing but a pair of light pants. Julian just… well he didn’t really know. He was feeling… a certain way.

“What was that?” Geralt asked as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked over at Julian who was under the simple musin sheet, book held up so only his eyes were visible.

“Have you ever… are you a virgin?” Julian finally asked, voice turning squeaky. Geralt raised a brow at him and huffed a laugh.

“I am not. I haven’t been for a long time. Why?” Geralt responded and went back to scrubbing, knowing Julian was a bit… timid when it came to anything sexual. He’d once said he’d been betrothed to a young countess when he was born but she’d left him when his family passed. And that he hadn’t had a girlfriend since.

“I was um… I was just wondering. Um cause, oh you know, um… because I am.” Julian said, eyes just peaking over the top of his book. Geralt nodded, not looking at him.

“I know.” Is all Geralt responded with. He was curious, of course, but he knew Julian was sensitive about his sexuality, or rather his lack thereof.

“Is it… did you have sex w…with a girl?” Julian asked, hoping he wasn’t chasing Geralt away. He hoped he wasn’t overstepping; he just… he wanted to know.

“I’ve had sex with girls, yes.” Geralt answered, his back was facing the boy now. Geralt grinned, it was just like talking to his younger brothers. Julian was just a young man, not really a count, just a teenager who wanted to know about sex.

“Oh… have you… um… just girls?” Julian asked quietly, face burning up. He waited, staring at Geralt’s strong back, spattered with odd scars and marks. Geralt was so… fetching to look at. Strong and solid and confident and… handsome. All over handsome. Julian would bet his cock was handsome, too.

Julian shook his head, getting that thought away from him when Geralt turned around. Now facing him, Geralt let a small smile grace his lips as he shook his head with a sigh.

“No, not just girls. Why? Do girls not… interest you?” Geralt phrased carefully. Julian swallowed and shook his head from where he still hid behind his book. Geralt nodded with a hum and kept his eyes on Julian. He let his head cocked to the side, giving the boy a look.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to like girls. Do you like anyone ?” Geralt asked, head tilted like a curious cat. He tried not to smile at the way Julian’s eyes flitted around the room from where they peaked over the book.

“I um… I might.” Julian said, trying to sound confident in himself like Geralt did. He failed miserably though, ending up squeaking like a bad hinge. Geralt nodded and went back to scrubbing shirts.

“Good.” Is all Geralt said before they fell back into a compioned silence. Julian went back to his book not really reading the kissing scene anymore, rather thought about Geralt… oh Geralt.

------

“Geralt, do you…. Can I sit with you?” Julian asked as he made his way out to the balcony. He was leaning on his cane waiting. Geralt was confused, Julian never asked to sit in his own chair at his own table on his own balcony.

“Go ahead?” Geralt said in a confused way but was soon letting out an exacerbated chuckle. Julian flopped down in his lap, legs thrown over the arm of the chair. He wasn’t a very heavy boy, not even half of Geralt's own weight.

“Hmm, so much more comfortable.” Julian hummed and laid his head against Geralt’s shoulder, he loved the springtime.

He loved how the sun was warm and the breeze was cool and how nice his heavy pants felt when they got warm from the sun but his light shirt kept him nice and cool. He loved how Geralt would pick him flowers and how the bees and butterflies were coming back slowly. He loved how in that moment spring meant that Geralt would sit on the balcony and read and had an open lap to sit on.

Geralt set his book on the table, letting his arms wrap around the boy. He let his head fall to the side, laying against the top of Julian’s. It was… nice.

“You’re heavy.” He said and Julian giggled and let his hand rest against Geralt’s chest, feeling the strong muscle hidden under his shirt.

“You’re warm.” Julian said and snuggled deeper into Geralt, taking in big deep breaths of his smell, Geralt smelled a bit like horse but he always did and he smelled like dirt and blood and sweat and well… Julian liked it. Geralt smelled like living life and journey, it was nice.

They sat there like that, basking in the warm sun, enjoying the company of each other, in silence. They each enjoyed it, both enjoying the feeling of another person pressed against them, both feeling calm companionship calming them both down to their bones. The breeze in the treetops, the birds chirping happily, quiet noise, the only small buzz of nature being the only sound around them.

Silence though, was never Julian’s thing. At least not after his legs had fallen asleep and his heart hurt and his eyes watered. He sniffed but held still, still against Geralt’s strong body, eyes dancing across the horizon as the sun sank beyond the mountains.

“You know Geralt… I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Here, now, right here with you, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” Julian said as tears flooded from his eyes. He turned and hid his face in the soft dark fabric of Geralt’s shirt, hand clutching where it had laid.

Geralt just hugged him, holding him against his chest, hands rubbing up and down his trembling back. Julian was so emotional, always saying flowery things and crying and laughing and… having such big emotions. Feelings always upfront. So unlike Geralt.

“I’m happy here, with you, too.” Geralt said, truth heavy in his voice. Julian huffed a laugh and wiggled so he was sitting up looking right into Geralt’s eyes. Julian’s blue eyes glimmered like diamonds, eyes rimmed red from crying. He flung his legs around so he was straddling Geralt as a serious look painted his face.

“You’re happy here with me?” He asked, hands coming up to rub at his face but his eyes kept on Geralt’s. Geralt let his hands rest on Julian’s hips, causing the boy to gasp and buck back away from him before relaxing. Julian’s mouth was hung open, breaths thin and faster than usual. Geralt looked him up and down and hoped he wasn’t reading the boy wrong.

“I’m very happy here Julian. I’m very happy being with you. You make me happy, Julian.” He said quietly, barely above a whisper. He didn’t want to risk leaning the few inches forward it would take to press his lips to Julian’s own. But he craved to just get a little taste, a tiny kiss, just to get the smallest.

Julian smiled and put his hands on the sides of Geralt’s face. Squishing his cheeks.

“Do you mean it?” Julian asked and stared into Geralt’s golden eyes, like he could see the truth if he just looked hard enough. Geralt moved his hands to pull Julians away from his face and held them in his own.

“Julian?” Geralt said softly and let his hands warm the thin cold ones within them. Julian swallowed and looked down at his lips before looking back into his eyes.

“Yeah?” Julian breathed out, his heart racing in his chest when he realized how they were sitting. They were…. So close.

Geralt leaned in, tilting his head to the side just a bit, warm breath cascading over Julian’s lips and cheeks. Geralt let his eyes fall closed and his nose rub against Julian’s. He opened his eyes after only a moment, lids heavy as his body became warmer with want.

“‘M gonna kiss you now” He warned and Julian was nodding needily. He pressed his lips gently, so so carefully against Julian’s own.

Julian was… not a bad kisser. Eager, pushy, but… soft and tender. Lips staying shut, just easy pushes and movements. Geralt’s hands fell down to his hips, only to squeeze gently and run up and down Julian’s soft sides. Julians own hands found their way to Geralt’s shoulders, holding on for dear life.

His eyes were tightly squeezed shut when they pulled back. Lips kissed red and plump where he was breathing shakily. He was panting from chaste, closed mouth kisses?

Cute, Geralt thought.

Julian opened his eyes, rimmed with tears, and grasped Geralt’s jaw. He looked into Geralt’s eyes, glowing like fire in the sunset’s light. He felt like his heart was beating out of his chest and his head was getting light but he wanted to kiss Geralt more. He felt like he could cry with how happy he was, he was nearly crying with how much love he felt.

“I’m gonna faint. But I wanna, wanna… will you put me to bed?” Julian said as his eyes started getting a bit fuzzy. Geralt was calm and gentle as he just stared at Julian’s bright blushed face. The boy just looked sleepy and rested his head against Geralt’s shoulder, hands falling into his lap.

“I’ll put you to bed, Julek, little bird, come on.” Geralt whispered more to himself than the unconscious boy as he carried him back into the house, back to bed.

Geralt busied himself around. Making a small fire, sweeping the floors, lighting the candles, bringing up fresh water to make tea, and he sat and watched Julian sleep, snuggled up under the covers.

----

They shared more kisses, Julian falling into Geralt’s lap asking for a few sweet kisses or to just sit and eat together or he’d just nap in Geralt’s lap.

Geralt was always grateful to have the other man near, chatting incessantly about anything from music to animals to pictures he’s seen of the far east. He liked to hear the boy explain how a new poet was rising a few townships over and that he was as senseless as headless chicken, or how there’s a new author and his books are written so well it’s like you’re actually standing amongst the jungles, hearing the monkeys, swimming under the waterfalls.

Julian would go on and on, sitting on Geralt’s lap, sometimes a blanket thrown over them. Sometimes they would sit on the balcony in a large wicker chair that Geralt had brought up from the library downstairs. Sometimes Geralt would help Julian out to the garden and they’d sit on the grass together, cuddled in the sun. Other times Julian would be so weak that they simply sat very close next to each other, feet touching or hands holding.

And each morning Geralt would make sure to clean his mouth and chew some mint before Julian was awake. Because each morning Geralt would sit on the edge of the bed, rub Julian’s hand in his own, and tell the boy it was time to start the day. And each morning Julian would pull Geralt down, usually by a hand on his jaw, and press a kiss to his lips.

“Good morning dear, you look lovely.”

“Good morning, darling”

“‘Morning, lovely, please close the curtains”

Every morning Julian would give him a kiss and welcome Geralt to the day. Each morning Julian opened his eyes and pressed a kiss to him, Geralt was more than just awake, he was alive. Each morning Julian brought him back to life, restarted his heart, brought breath into his lungs.

----

"Geralt? Will you come here to me?" Julian asked as he laid in bed, body aching and heavy. Ever since Julian's fall, Geralt would stay in the room until Julian was asleep.

The boy had gotten up after he’d said his goodnights to Geralt. He’d been feeling well, very well, so he thought he might just go downstairs and find a cookie or two and head right back to bed, right back to bed!

However after a day of playing checkers and playing his harp and going down to play the piano while the servants cleaned and worked, he was not as strong as he had been that day.

He fell in the hallway, nearly falling down the stairs. His ankle had swollen up and he had terrible black bruises. Geralt had lectured him, marching back and forth in the room while Julian wept in bed, saying he was sorry and that he wouldn’t do it again. Geralt also brought a cookie jar up and set it on the mantle.

But he also refused to go to his own room until Julian was asleep. So when Julian bathed and was ready for bed, Geralt bathed and got ready for bed. It was warm in the home now, no need to make fires at night, so Geralt would simply sit by the window, single candle light lit by the door, and wait until he could hear Julian’s soft snores.

But tonight… Julian felt… something felt heavy in his chest. Perhaps it had something to do with the book he was reading or maybe it was that his one act of independence had landed him with a swollen ankle and a bruised backside.

Geralt came over and knelt by the bed, holding Julian’s outstretched hand. Julian smiled at him, his eyes looked tired and he was pale.

Today had been a very hot humid day, the hours taking their toll on everyone. Even the housemaid had left behind some layers, all citing that Julian would be just fine seeing their bare feet or their hair not under a cap. Julian had spent most of the day laying atop the sheets in bed in nothing but a pair of light linen pants. Now he was tucked under the sheets, pants traded for his nighty.

Now he just looked… tired. The moonlight only working to make him look paler, his under eyes darker, his skin cooler. Geralt held his hand, the smooth soft skin feeling softer than air.

"Come lay under the covers with me." The boy asked and Geralt looked into his eyes in surprise. Julian’s bed? It was… the boy barely kept his few dolls on his bed, yet he wanted something like Geralt to marr its appearance?

"In your bed?" Geralt asked, bringing the soft hand up to rub his cheek against, eyes watching Julian’s as he rolled them and sighed dramatically. Such a dramatic boy.

"Well? I'm cold and I feel weak and I want to feel close. Come lay under my blankets, come lay with me." Julian begged, eyes brimming with tears. Geralt kissed his hand and warmed it between his own. He shook his head a bit and slipped his shoes off his feet

"Okay, only because I don't want you to cry." He said and pulled his dark shirt off and folded it, leaving it behind in his chair when he climbed behind Julian in bed.

The boy was staring. Geralt was… beautiful. Such pale skin, scars spattered across his body, muscles like the statues carved from marble. He looked like a character from one of Julian’s dirty novels, a real Adonis, all edges and strength and-

“What’s wrong, love? Am I… I can go sleep in my own bed. I can take another bath.” Geralt offered before he touched the bed, noticing Julian staring so hard he could feel himself shrinking. Julian just blinked at him, big bright eyes filled with something… light.

“You never told me you were the fairest flower in all the fields, that I might gp blind merely from a glance at you.” Julian muttered, pushing himself to sit up to get a better look at the scars that whipped across his abdomen and chest. He felt a bit dizzy with how his blood grew hot and swirled in his gut. Geralt was… unfair. So pretty, so perfect, how dare he ever wear clothes.

Geralt huffed and looked away, a light flush finding its way to his face. Julian… always with flowery words and and… compliments.

“Julian, go to bed.” Geralt said and climbed in behind the boy who rolled over to face the man. He was biting his bottom lip, hands brought up curiously but halted to wait a mere inch from Geralt’s chest.

“Can I touch you? I’ve never seen you… bare.” Julian said, looking at Geralt with a kind of… wonder. Wonder of how another man would feel under his hands, how Geralt’s skin would feel, would his scars feel soft or are they tender still, how would Geralt react if he just snuggled close.

Geralt sighed and nodded, looking away as his face burned up. Julian made a happy noise and let his hands gently lay on the other’s chest. Julian was taken aback, shocked.

Geralt was so warm, and he felt so solid, and he was so… everything. Julian let his hands press and feel and explore across the miles of pale skin, fingers tracing across scars, feeling Geralt’s heartbeat in his chest. Julian laid there, staring where his hand pressed into Geralt’s chest, feeling each heartbeat as if it was his own.

“I love you Geralt.” Julian whispered, he could barely tear his eyes away to look into the nearly glowing gold ones. Geralt smiled and let his own larger hand fall over Julian’s.

“It’s late, it’s dark, it’s time for bed. Go to sleep, Julian.” Geralt whispered so sweetly and Julian was nodding along. He was so sleepy and Geralt was so warm and in his bed and it was… it was perfect.

He cuddled in close, hiding himself away in Geralt’s chest, throwing an arm and leg over him. He let his eyes fall shut as he felt Geralt’s arm wrap around him, hand rubbing up and down his back.

“You’re not allowed to wear clothes anymore, by the way.” Julian muttered into the soft skin of Geralt’s collarbone. Geralt huffed and gave Julian a squeeze.

“Go to sleep, little bird.” Geralt said and soon Julian was drooling asleep, snores lulling Geralt into his own deep restful sleep.

-----

"Geralt let me, let me walk. I can make it. I've been working on my stamina." Julian said as he stood up from his chair in the hallway. He gave his love a wink and got his cane under him. Geralt shook his head and allowed Julian to walk in front of him.

Ever since they started sleeping in the same bed, they had both been getting much more sleep. Which meant Julian wanted to do everything together. They got up, got clean and fresh, dressed, and made their way down to eat with the rest of the household. Which meant going down the stairs. Which usually meant Geralt carrying Julian like a princess, or over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and then Julian sometimes walking in through the dining room doors.

However today Julian had decided he would walk to breakfast. Well… walk to the stairs that is. He had been walking more, getting stronger, and he was feeling especially confident.

"Sure thing, Julek, put your big girl panties on this morning?" Geralt teased and Julian blushed and didn't look at him. Geralt’s joking had grown from grunts to actual comments. And the nickname… It made Julian feel all soft and melty.

Geralt was a Slov, Julian had learned, and he'd begun calling Julian ‘Julek’, others called him Jewel, and an older lady who came to the house on Geralt's call to see Julian's progress called him Jaskier but she also only spoke polish. But Julek , hearing Geralt’s gruff voice say the name, it made Julian feel like a new person, a new thing, something just created.

“I sure did! And they fit me just fine!” Julian responded and took a steeling breath.

Julian started walking down the hall finding it was easier than the last time he'd tried. Each step steady until nearly to the stairwell. His legs began to shake as he grabbed onto the railing, his heart was racing in his chest and his head felt a bit light. He was trying to take big deep breaths, but he felt like his chest was squeezing.

Geralt was quick to put an arm around his waist, supporting him enough so he could catch his breath before scooping him up. Geralt gave him a I-told-you-so look and started walking down the stairs.

"Yeah, eat shit, I still made it." Julian teased as Geralt grinned as they made it down to the dining room.

-----

Loving was easy between them. Life was easy between them.

They spent days sitting together in the sun. Geralt once set Julian out in the rain, giggling like a kid until he began to shiver a bit and then Geralt had a warm fire and a blanket to wrap around him.

The summer was Julian’s favorite time of year. He loved the feeling of a sun warmed blanket and the scent of the gardens in full bloom. Geralt was there to bring him flowers and sit with him to watch the birds.

Geralt didn’t care about the weather. He just loved seeing Julian so happy. He loved to tuck a flower behind his ear, he loved to trade him fresh apples and berries for kisses, he loved to go out in the rain to bring Julian a hydrangea bloom just to shake it over his head to give the boy a shower.

Most of all he loved the way Julian laughed. Full and hearty like he had heard the funniest thing every time. He loved the way Julian smiled, bright and wonderful. He loved the way even when he was weak and sick Julian still gave Geralt shit and was a brat and gave sass.

He loved Julian more than anything.

And everyday Geralt was happy. Julian was happy. It was… good. Geralt had lived for a very long time and yet he’d never been so happy.

They more often than not shared a bed, Julian cradled against Geralt's chest. During the warmer months Geralt would strip them both down to their sleep clothes. Julian sleeping in nearly see-through linen nighties and Geralt in a pair of soft pants and no underclothes. In the colder months Geralt would sleep in heavy wool pants but never had the heart to put a shirt on, knowing Julian found comfort in skin-to-skin. Julian would wrap up in his heavy nighty and a pair of thick socks.

They both grew into their new schedule, they just fit together, like an easy rhythm.

----

Julian got stronger, he ate more, in the nearly two years since Geralt had arrived, he'd grown able to make it down the stairs, stay awake all during the day, and even ride into town and see the people, often only needing his cane. He could pour the whole table glasses of wine with just a slight tremble. He was so happy with life, he was so happy with everything. Even on his sickest days he felt everything was okay. Because Geralt was there and Geralt was… Geralt was strong enough for the both of them.

One night, he felt... viral . He felt alive and hot in belly for the first time in so long.

He was laying in bed, just under a sheet, waiting for Geralt to get done cleaning up after their baths. They’d begun bathing together, hualing the big tub up from the first floor up so they could sit front to back in the tub. Geralt claiming he didn’t have much shame, and Julian agreeing cause wow… Geralt had let Julian touch him, sort of. He never let him touch his cock but let the boy press their bodies together, half hard cock rub against his plush ass.

Julian had liked that feeling but they never had that… sensual atmosphere in their baths. But that night… he had a hot melty feeling in his groin and his cock ached. His head was full of images of Geralt, his body, the way he looked soaked from the rain, short hair flopping over his face, water dropping running down his chiseled muscles. The way he grunts when he has to haul something heavy around, the weak little huffs he makes when he has a bad dream, the sighs he lets out when he lays down after a long day.

He let his hand creep down to himself, under his chemise. He was hard. Goodness... that hadn't happened in years. He could barely remember the last time he was hard and awake. He’d woken up with a wet nighty many times but never woke up… hard. Nor had he worked up to a hardon while he was awake for so long.

"Geralt!" Julian called and heard the thundering quick steps of Geralt running to the room. Julian had his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Hand cradling the burning flesh of his cock.

"What? You scared me, you prick." Geralt said as he saw the boy was fine in bed. He took a calming breath and put his hands on his hips. Julian had an odd look on his face and he had his arms weird across his body… Geralt just stared at him and slowly walked up to the bed.

"My prick indeed." Julian said and pulled his hand away from himself after a quick squeeze.

"What're you on about?" Geralt asked. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed. Julian looked away from him, face turning a cherry red.

"Geralt... can we do something together?" The count asked nervously and brought his knees together under the thin sheet. He wanted Geralt so much, just seeing the other man standing there in his thin pants and light shirt, the feeling of getting down to Geralt’s skin, to feel his warmth.

Geralt looked down at the boy, his eyes blown big, cheeks cherry red and creeping down his chest. He wanted to pick the sheet up to see underneath, see what the boy was hiding. He felt the pull, the warmth in his own belly, he wasn’t a very sexual man but Julian was so soft. So sweet smelling and warm with the plushest body and the kindest hands.

"What do you wanna do, Julek?" Geralt asked, letting his fingers graze atop the covers beside Julian’s arm. He gave the boy a look, golden eyes warm and open, lips practically begging for a kiss.

"I um... not to be so forward but will you lay under the cover with me and well... l-lay with me?" Julian asked, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Geralt grinned, pointy teeth on display and crawled up on the bed, throwing a leg over Julian’s thighs, causing his legs to lay flat.

Julian had a nervous look on his face that was soon being washed away by biting tongue filled kisses. Geralt let himself go, hips grinding down onto Julian’s, savoring the feeling of a hard cock rubbing up against his own. He got washed away in the feeling of Julian yanking his shirt off and untying his trousers.

“You’re stunning, my dear, so pretty” Julian said and let his hands wander, rubbing across Geralt’s broad shoulders, down to squeeze his hips, back up to cup his muscular pec.

“Do you really want this, Julian? Do you want me to… to do this to you?” Geralt asked from where he had started sucking and nipping down the boy’s neck. Julian grabbed two fistfulls of his hair and yanked him up to face him, determination plain on his face.

Geralt sucked in a breath and dared not move from where Julian had an iron grip in his hair, the pain of it sparking something he rather not look into. He stared down at the boy, he wanted, gods he wanted , but… he couldn’t do anything until Julian said okay.

“Geralt, man who’s stolen my heart, man who’s the only one I’ve ever loved, if you don’t touch my cock in the next moment I’m going to cry. I can’t do much else but I’ll cry.” Julian threatened and tears already welled up in his eyes. He felt good and Geratl was so pretty and it was so so good and so so new.

Geralt shook his head and Julian let go of his hair. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to Julian’s lips. Julian sniffs as tears roll down his face, breaths hiccuping as Geralt ground down again.

“I thought you wouldn’t cry.” Geralt said and leaned back to pull the sheet away and look down at where Julian’s cock was standing up against his belly, nighty rucked up to his sternum. He looked down and gave it a few light strokes.

Julian moaned and bucked up, hands scrambling down to grab at Geralt’s wrists. He cried out and looked up at Geralt who had a look on his face, like a starved animal.

“You gotta hold still for me, for just a minute, baby, just hold still, Julek” Geralt panted out and leaned back yanking his pants down, struggling just to get them down.

“Geralt, what- what’re you going to do? I don’t… you know I don’t know how this works. Not with… not with two boys” Julian said in a panic as he yanked Geralt’s pants off his feet and flung them away. Geralt was back on him, straddling his waist, huge heavy cock covering Julian’s own.

Julian just stared down at it… it was nearly the size of his forearm and it felt like fire on his skin. Geralt was so fucking perfect and… Julian felt so nervous, his belly twisting in a bad way.

That was until Geralt was rubbing his hands up and down Julian’s sides, shushing him.

“Just hold on, little bird, you just have to hold on for a second.” Geralt said and looked at Julian’s small bedside… oil. They needed some for this activity.

He thought about it just for a moment before remembering something he’d seen in Julian’s harp case. He leaned down and kissed the boy again, sucking on his tongue for a moment when he pulled back.

“Do you have that… that polishing oil with your harp still?” Geralt asked as he leaned back from kissing him. Julian was breathless, tears rolling down the sides of his face as he nodded, eyes unfocused and lips kissed red and puffy.

“Yeah, it’s- it’s in the drawer” Julian answered after a moment to process what Geralt had said. He watched the larger man move to climb off the bed and dig through the drawer in the corner that held all Julian’s instrument’s tools and such.

Gorgeous. That’s all Julian could think as he witnessed Geralt standing in the moonlight. One side of him, pale skin glowing in the light of the full moon, the other warmed by the candles. His hair was longer than it had been when he first arrived, now catching the light and casting the most stunning shadows across the man’s angular face.

“ Julian ~” The boy finally heard as he came back into his mind, noticing Geralt was speaking. He looked at him, all tall and strong and hot and his cock and body and…

“‘M a bit dizzy” Julian said and Geralt soon returned, laying Julian back down flat, wiping tears away from his face, shushing him.

“It’s alright. Do you still want to do this? It’s okay if you-” Geralt said and leaned down to wipe Julian’s eyes clean and looked down at him. He was cute. Plush and snuggly, adorable in his frilly nighty and his little socks. He was hard still, cock hard against his belly, dripping with need.

“Please, I want you to do it. I wanna do it with you. I wanna lose… it … to you. Please.” Julian begged, staring up at Geralt’s amber eyes. He didn’t wanna be a virgin a moment longer; he wanted Geralt more than anything else.

Geralt smiled down at him letting his hand go from wiping away tears to push the hair off Julian’s face. He crawled back up on the bed, straddling the boy once more, hands faced on his chest as he ground his ass over the boy’s hard cock.

Julian let out a long moan and grabbed Geralt’s hips, thick muscular hips.

“Be good, little bird, have patience.” Geralt whispered as he sat up straight, uncorking the bottle of oil. He looked down at Julian as he covered his fingers with the slick. Julian watched and looked confused.

That was until Geralt was letting his fingers rub and slip into his hole.

“I put my cock there? In you there? Won’t it hurt?” The boy asked as he watched Geralt’s hands move, one fingering himself open, the other holding the base of his cock, occasionally giving it a few tight strokes.

Geralt was efficient with stretching himself out a bit, Julian wasn’t really that big. He huffed a laugh at the boy’s questioning and pulling his fingers away, stroking Julian’s cock a few times getting the extra oil off on him.

Julian watched him, hands gripping the sheet below him. He stared down at where Geralt was kneeling over him, where Geralt was holding his cock to stand up.

“It’s not gonna hurt me, sweetheart, this is just how… how boys do it.” Geralt said, breathless as he guided Julian’s cock to press against his wet hole. Julian just made sorry little huffing sounds until Geralt was easing down onto him. Both then letting out long moans until Geralt was sat on Julian’s hips.

“You did it. ‘M not a virgin. Fucking gods, you feel amazing” Julian moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow under him, overwhelmed with the feeling. The feeling of being connected, of Geralt’s tight warm body, the feeling of them being together, matching and fitting together like puzzle pieces. They did match perfectly together.

And they could both feel it.

“I did, I took you. You’re mine, Julek, mine only. Promise me, promise your mine.” Geralt panted out and took Jlian’s hand, holding it to his heaving chest. Julian nodded, automatically agreeing.

“Yes, yes my dear heart, my love, I’m all yours. All yours. Now have me, please.” Julian said, desperation creeping into his voice at the end. Geralt stayed for a breath longer, feeling how his heart felt sparked alive.

And then the love melted away and the lust won over. He rose up on his knees till only the tip was still inside him and then he was letting himself fall back down, careful not to hurt the boy’s legs. Well as careful as he could be when Julian was clawing at his hips and moaning like he was putting a show on at a brothel.

Julian was quick to cum, as expected, and was nearly passed out when Geralt guided his hand to wrap around his own cock. He was stroking himself more than Julian was, but that was okay, it was better than okay when he came and a single drop reached up to Julian’s chin and the boy licked it off.

“That’s nasty, why do people swallow that stuff?” The boy said and made a face when the drop of cum hit his tongue. Geralt laughed, really laughed, as he sat beside the boy, feeling the cum drip from his hole.

He reached back and grabbed the water from the bedside and guided Julian to drink some. The boy drank some and laid back, eyes slipping close as his hands rested against his clothed chest.

He felt no shame laying in his bed with his wet cock out and his belly and nighty covered in another man’s cum. He only felt happy, and content, and tired, and wow… wow.

“I love you Geralt. Do you want to get another bath?” The boy asked without opening his eyes. He missed the way Geralt looked down at him, eyes full of love and devotion. He didn’t know what was touching him either before he was being lifted up and carried down to the stairs.

He didn’t open his eyes to see Geralt’s tears rolling down his face, or his smile, or his trembling lip. He was already asleep as Geralt filled a tub and held him close to his chest and wept as he cleaned them both.

“môj vtáčik, môj, zostaň tu, zostaň so mnou” ( my little bird, mine, stay here, stay with me ) He whispered quietly as he tucked them both back into bed, holding and cuddling close to Julian who only sighed and wrapped his arms around the warm body open to him.

It was perfect. So perfect. Warm and cozy and they both slept so well that night. Love was so thick in the air you could nearly see it. It was more than just perfect. It was nice. Geralt learned that nice was… so much better. So much better than being alive, than seeing, than hearing, than anything else. Nice was lovely. Nice was… alive.

However nothing��nice ever lasts.

Julian got sick.

So, so sick.

He was pale, he barely ate, he was always cold, he had nose bleeds and his eyes went fuzzy and he was...

He was dying.

Geralt tried everything to help him, gave him meds, asked the mages, asked the warlocks, he tried everything but Julian would smile and kiss and tell him it would be okay.

"You knew this would happen when you came here. I'm sorry, Geralt. I'm so sorry I'm hurting you." The boy cried and held the man’s face in his trembling hands. He felt so terrible, not for himself, but for seeing Geralt be so worried. He could see the pain in Geralt's eyes each day when he wasn’t any better or when he struggled to breath or when he hacked up blood. He felt so terrible for hurting his beloved man.

"No Julek, you're not hurting me. I never knew I could love before you. I love you, Julian, I love you." Geralt said as tears slid down his face, hands holding onto Julian’s thin wrists. He smiled at the pale skeleton that was once his plush pudgy love.

He still loved him.

He’d love him a thousand times and a million times over. He’d give anything for him. He’d give him life, his heart, his body, anything. He just wanted Julian… to stay with him.

"I love you too, my gem, my handsome man. Don't weep, my love, don't cry. You've given me more in the past few years than anyone else has my entire life. I'm so grateful for you. Please don't forget how much you gave me, I can never repay you." Julian said and wiped Geralt’s tears away with his thumbs. He was happy, he supposed. He was happy to have ever had Geralt for a moment. To have ever met him, to have ever even seen him. He could never repay the gods, destiny, or whoever brought the man to his home. He was happy to have had the man in his life. It hurt his heart to know he was hurting the strong man who wept before him.

"You could stay. You could stay with me forever. Never leave me, please, please stay with me. I don't have anyone else." Geralt begged and begged. He’d do anything for Julian to stay. Anything. Julian only smiled and used his sleeve to pat away Geralt’s big tears. He shushed the bigger man and leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and his lips.

"I'll stay. You're mine, I'm yours. We’re meant to be with each other. Our destinies are intertwined, our lives are melted together. Like soup." Julian said, remembering the first conversation they ever had, the feeling he had. Geralt huffed a sad laugh and nodded.

"Like soup." He agreed and laid Julian back down. He could rest for a bit before Geralt brought their dinner up, even knowing Julian wasn’t going to eat, he’d still sit the boy at the table and sit with him.

They went to bed, Geralt putting a nice clean nighty and socks onto Julian, and disrobing himself down to a pair of thick pants and socks. The seasons were changing and it was a bitter night. He made sure to cover Julian up, making sure he was warm.

“Goodnight, my love, try to get some sleep, you’ve been restless for so long now.” Julian said to him with a soft kiss before rolling over to be spooned and snuggled.

“I love you, Julek, my heart is yours.” Geralt confessed and pressed as close as he could to the boy and let exhaustion take over him.

When Geralt woke up Julian was gone.

He dressed him, put him in the middle of the bed, and made him look like a king. He got a cloth and washed him, ran a brush through his soft hair, and made sure he looked neat and noble.

Not a tear rolling down his face. He needed to go away, he needed to leave before the successor came. He needed to make sure Julian was treated properly and then he needed to leave.

He cleaned the room, face stone cold.

He was in shock really, his chest hurt. He walked down and called everyone into the dining room and they all already knew.

Geralt went into the town and informed them.

A cousin would be taking the estate and the power.

Geralt dug his grave and buried him the way he wanted to be, with his music notes and his childhood harp. He had cried over the boy when he was tasked with covering him in soil. He sobbed and sobbed, letting out the most pained sounds half the town had ever heard. He howled and cried out like an animal being shredded by wolves.

He slept there in the dirt over the boy, refusing to leave him until the leaves covered the grave. He carved a J out of a strong branch of wood and placed it over where Julian was.

Geralt was darker than night as he moved through the house, he would come at night and leave at dawn. Things were moved and changed, no one caring though. No one was going to question him and his grief.

He was told Julian had given him a house in the mountains and that was the last anyone ever seen of Geralt, Servant of The Flower of Lettenhoven. Lover of the Great Count Julian Of Lettenhoven.

No one knew where he went, assuming he had left just as he had arrived, in the darkness of night in silence. The house in the mountains had been destroyed by an avalanche years ago, no one went looking for trouble anyway.

Next Chapter ->

#egg_company #smut tag #fanfic #geraskier fluff #geraskier fanfic #geraskier smut #geraskier #alternate universe #jaskier #top jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher geralt #bottom geralt #geralt z rivii #the witcher fanfic #the witcher

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bambirex · 1 year ago

Text

It's A Game We Play

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

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

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, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe-modern setting

Rating: teen and up audiences

Word count: 2,390 words

Chapters: 1/?

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.

Author's notes: It's time for some crack!!!!! What do you get when you have canonically slutty Jaskier, and add Bambi being a multishipper who loves chaos? That's right, you get a Mamma Mia!AU !! I'm planning on using the plot of the first movie pretty loosely. As in, I will probably not do scene-to -scene recreations, but take advantage of the general idea and the setting!

Feedback is super appreciated!!! Let's get the party started!

Read on Ao3

“I can’t believe this day has come.”

“Papa, it’s not my wedding yet. I’m just trying on dresses, remember?”

“Still,” Jaskier smiled, blinking against the sentimental tears in his eyes, “my child is getting married. She’s picking out her wedding dress, how am I supposed to cope with this?”

Amaryllis cooed and leaned up to kiss her father on the cheek. Jaskier immediately wound his arms around her, enveloping her in a crushing hug.

“You promised no crying until the ceremony,” Amaryllis reminded him. Jaskier chuckled against her hair.

“I’m failing, obviously.”

But who could blame him, Jaskier mused as Amaryllis finally managed to pull away. He let his daughter take his hand and lead him inside the saloon, her steps happy and prancing, so adorably enthusiastic. Amaryllis was his only child, his baby, his light in this world. Of course, he would become emotional (over and over again) over the fact she was soon to be a married woman. Amaryllis’s fiancée, well, soon-to-be-wife, Sara, was the sweetest thing. Jaskier loved and trusted her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. He always did: he was a parent, that was what he was supposed to do. His child was facing a huge milestone in her life. Jaskier was filled with fear, hope, and a tremendous amount of pride at the same time. He was just overflowing with emotions, and they manifested in constant weeping, apparently.

He decided to try and shut off the waterworks at least while they introduced themselves to the seller. She was a cheerful middle-aged lady named Kate, who heartily congratulated Amaryllis on her upcoming marriage, then she gave a sympathetic hug to Jaskier as well.

“It’s a huge thing, one of the biggest days in our lives,” Kate chirped as she led them further inside the saloon. “Therefore, it has to be perfect. Any ideas on your dream dress, dear?”

“Not sure,” Amaryllis admitted. She still held onto Jaskier’s hand as she looked over the numerous racks and shelves. “My fiancée will have a strapless dress, and it would be nice to match with her, but I think sleeves are more my style?”

“You should pick whatever you’d feel comfortable in,” Jaskier reminded her softly. “You will look beautiful in everything, anyway.”

Amaryllis gave him a bright smile and a squeeze to his hand before she followed Kate into the jungle of dresses. Jaskier raked his eyes around with a sigh. Fluffy dresses and sleek suits hanged everywhere from floor to ceiling, in every shape and every size. They all looked so pretty. Jaskier’s chest tightened for a second before he decided to look away and check on his daughter instead.

Amaryllis was an absolute dream to shop with. Instead of turning into the stereotypical “bridezilla”, she was calm and collected, listening intently to everything Kate told her. Jaskier was immensely proud of her. He also knew that if he were in this situation, he would probably break down five minutes in.

While Amaryllis disappeared inside the fitting room to try on a couple dresses, Kate approached Jaskier with a smile.

“Beautiful girl,” she told him earnestly. Jaskier grinned, proudly puffing his chest out.

“Thank you.”

“Yours, right? I can tell by the eyes. Same set of beautiful baby blues.”

“Ah, you’re so kind. Yes, she’s my daughter.”

“Are you planning a big wedding?”

“Not that big. More people on her fiancée’s side.”

Saying that out loud tasted bitter on Jaskier’s tongue. He wished he could give his daughter an epic ceremony, but unfortunately, he wasn’t on good terms with his family. His parents divorced while he was still a child, and he has only rarely seen his father after that. He’s always had a stormy relationship with his mother as well. She was a very strict, traditional woman, whose pride was greatly hurt when her husband left her. That was probably why she got so angry when Jaskier told her at the ripe age of twenty-one that he has gotten pregnant and had no clue from who. She wanted Jaskier to fulfill that idyllic family picture that she did not manage, and seeing her own child fail at it, too, caused her to cut ties with him. The only relative that Jaskier could count on was his aunt, the only person who has supported him after he ended up alone, pregnant, and scared out of his mind. Her death devastated Jaskier, especially because she didn’t get to see Amaryllis’s birth. She has left his beloved nephew a lovely gift, though, the Dandelion Inn. Jaskier has spent most of his childhood on the small island his aunt lived at, and he really enjoyed staying over at the Inn, even when he was an adult. It was a friendly, warm little motel that felt more like his home than his actual house. He has also met his two best friends there, who have helped him through many hardships.

Jaskier now lived on the island with his daughter and managed the Dandelion Inn. It was idyllic in many ways, and not very idyllic in other ways. Jaskier knew that an unbonded, mate-less Omega would always be the hot topic of every gossip, especially one that got pregnant so young. He has gotten better at handling the acidic insults, but he wished he could have protected his daughter against them, and he wished he could have provided her with the big, happy family that she deserved.

He quickly waved away the sad memories as Amaryllis exited the fitting room. Jaskier gasped and clutched a hand over his heart, willing himself not to tear up again. As expected, Amaryllis looked beautiful in her mermaid- style dress. Her smile shone brighter than the gemstones on the hem when she twirled around.

“My God, you look beautiful,” Jaskier whispered in awe. Amaryllis ducked her head with a shy grin.

“I like it. I think I’m gonna try the high-low dress, too.”

She tried on four more dresses, and Jaskier told her she looked gorgeous in every single one of them. Amaryllis groaned as she plopped down next to him on a pouf.

“You always say I look beautiful in everything, Papa.”

“But that’s the truth! No matter what you’ll pick, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.”

Kate disappeared to find some accessories to go with the dresses. Amaryllis waited until she was out of sight, then she turned to Jaskier with a look that indicated she was about to say or ask something potentially uncomfortable. Jaskier knew that look too well. It was the same, head ducked down, nose twitching, jaw slightly wobbling face she gave him when she told him she accidentally broke his acoustic guitar, and when she presented as an Omega and had to ask her father about the birds and the bees. Jaskier braced himself with a sigh, and a free cupcake that he retrieved from the tray next to him.

“I was thinking about checking out the suits, too,” Amaryllis started, choosing her words obviously carefully. “But then I was like, I’d rather have a dress. It’s traditional, and I know we’re both free spirits, but I think I’d like a really traditional wedding, you know? An Omega girl in a big fluffy dress, her Omega father weeping into his tissue in the front row…”

“Hey, I won’t cry in the front row,” Jaskier objected with a huff, “I’ll cry while walking you down the aisle.”

Amaryllis cleared her throat. She fiddled with the tulle on her dress. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence. Jaskier didn’t even dare to breathe.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked, scooting closer to her on the pouf. “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”

“Well,” Amaryllis squeaked, avoiding Jaskier’s eyes, “iwantmyotherparenttowalkmedowntheaisle.”

Jaskier blinked in utter confusion. Amaryllis turned an alarmingly bright red, which was only accentuated by her snow-white dress.

“What… what was that?”

“Papa.”

“You said it so fast I couldn’t make out a single word!”

“God,” Amaryllis sighed, grinding her teeth in embarrassment, “don’t be angry! Just… I… I said that I want my other father, or mother, I don’t know? To… to walk me down the aisle… you know, all traditional…”

Jaskier was very glad he was already sitting, otherwise he would have probably collapsed on the floor. He waited for Amaryllis to reveal it was just a joke. For several, uncomfortable moments, Amaryllis stared at Jaskier, chewing on her lip. Jaskier stared right back, his brain drawing a complete blank page.

“Honey…” Jaskier squeaked out, “you know exactly I don’t know who that is.”

“But, maybe there’s a chance we could find them?” Amaryllis asked hopefully. “I was thinking a lot about this, lately. I would be really happy if we managed to find out who it is, so they could be there, too. I don’t know… maybe you still have some phone numbers? A hunch? Anything? It’s just… it would be nice.”

Jaskier let out a deep sigh. It’s been literal years since Amaryllis has brought up this subject. With each passing year, as she has gotten older, it has gotten easier to explain: it was the worst when she was still a little child, not understanding why everyone had two parents while she only had her Papa. It was even worse with her overhearing all those nasty gossips about how Jaskier was such a lowlife Omega, sleeping with everyone and having bastard children. When she was a little older, Jaskier could give her a vague explanation on how her other parent left, and how they were unfortunately not coming back. Amaryllis was already a teenager when Jaskier eventually revealed the truth that he had absolutely no idea who the other parent was. He didn’t give her all the details about how he was definitely enjoying his youth. He was a pretty hedonistic young Omega who gladly shared his heats and non-heats with many, many… many people. He didn’t tell her about his short-lived, heartbreaking romances and everlasting loves that only lasted for about a week. She was a smart child, she managed to put the pieces together anyway.

So, Amaryllis stopped pushing for an answer a long time ago, accepting the explanation that Jaskier didn’t know. It felt like a bucket of icy water was poured straight over his head when she, twenty years old and ready to get married, brought this up again.

“Look,” Jaskier told her softly, reaching for her hand, “I know this is going to be your big day, and trust me, I would give my left arm to make sure everything could go exactly as you wanted, including a full set of parents if that’s what would make you happy, but unfortunately… I can’t give you that. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Amaryllis squeezed his hand gently, “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. This isn’t your fault. I just… I guess I reminisced a little, and I daydreamed a little, and… when I imagine my big day… I see someone else there. With you.”

“Well,” Jaskier forced a grin onto his face, deciding to hide the sudden pain that flared up inside him with humor, like so many times before- the only way he managed to survive the heartbreak, the loneliness and the hopelessness he has felt through his life. That was the only way he could get through the pregnancy alone, that he could get through raising a child alone. The only way he could protect Amaryllis from feeling that pain.

“It seems like you’ll have to make do with your old, single father.”

“You’re not old,” Amaryllis reminded him with a laugh. “You had me when you were about my age. You’re still rockin’ and you’re still smokin’.”

“Such flattery. I assume the dress you want is really expensive, then?”

Amaryllis laughed and gave him a tight hug. Jaskier hid his face in her neck so she couldn’t see the way his smile faded.

Kate returned with the accessories amidst many apologies for going away for so long. She took Amaryllis with her again to try the jewelry with the dress so they could settle for the best option. There was an uncomfortable, churning sensation inside Jaskier’s stomach when he was left alone.

The last thing he expected was this. The idea that Amaryllis has been thinking about this again, that she might have felt sad over not having her other parent there shattered Jaskier. He never wanted to see his daughter sad, especially because of him. And sure, Amaryllis assured him it wasn’t his fault, but it kinda was, wasn’t it? If he wasn’t such a slut, sleeping with everyone who caught his fancy, this wouldn’t have happened. He could have committed to an actual relationship, bonded with a nice Alpha or Beta or maybe even another Omega, could have gotten married, and now Amaryllis would have a beautiful wedding with all her family there, because if Jaskier did that, his mother wouldn’t have disowned him, either. All he had to offer his daughter was his stupid self, a tiny inn, and a herd of goats that he also inherited from his aunt.

He looked into the golden-framed mirror on the wall and sighed at his reflection. He looked younger than his age, something he was very proud of, but when he looked closer, into his own eyes, he’s seen the burden of leaving his careless youth behind.

He spotted a veil on the hanger by the mirror. The ache in his chest amplified. He turned around, quickly checking that no one saw him, then he took the veil off the hanger. He turned it around in his hand, running his fingers over the thin lace. It felt heavy like lead as he put it on his head and checked his reflection again.

You could have had this, a voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother reminded him, if you weren’t such a loose, immoral Omega.

Jaskier cursed and took the veil off, putting it back on the hanger as quickly as he managed. No, he would not let his guilt consume him. He needed to be strong for his daughter. This was about Amaryllis and her beautiful future, not about him and his tragic past.

Jaskier could only hope Amaryllis would forget about her mysterious other parent.

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