#tl;dr jaskier and eskel get a happily ever after on the coast

[wordsablaze]

Mortal Fears, Immortal Love

Jaskier is widely regarded as being brave but he's certainly no stranger to being afraid. Or, the three times Eskel helps soothe his fears - day seven of @jaskierwhumpweek

A/N: and we’ve reached the end of this lil series, it’s been so fun <3 today’s prompt: “fear”

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Homes can be dangerous places.

Jaskier knows this because he’d foolishly agreed to visit his hometown when Eskel had been requested to help with the wraith problem there.

He shouldn’t have agreed; he should have said something, he should have come up with an excuse, he should have at least tried to adjust their plans. But he had agreed and that makes being locked in his brother’s basement his own fault, really.

“Julian.”

Jaskier’s head snaps up and he scowls. “I haven’t gone by that name for years.”

His brother, Elias, glances over him and raises an eyebrow. “It doesn’t appear as though it’s been many years for you.”

“And yet you are more wrinkled than the stray cat who scratched you into a fever,” Jaskier retorts, smirking.

Elias clenches his jaw but then gestures around the dimly lit room. “Say what you will but you’re the one in chains.”

And he’s not wrong. There are shackles around his ankles and his wrists, additional chains connecting those to the wall behind him, and he wants to say he’s not scared but the fact that Elias seems to have planned this is definitely unsettling.

“You’re a fool if you think you can keep me here,” Jaskier spits.

But Elias just laughs. “Are you relying on your witcher, Julian? Because he’s not going to return for another week if all goes to plan.”

Jaskier’s stomach drops.

“What? You didn’t know that I was the one who asked for him? Aren’t you meant to be well-informed as a bard?”

Jaskier doesn’t say anything, he’s too busy being afraid that they’ve sent Eskel into a trap. He’s never going to forgive himself if his witcher dies by his brother’s plan, especially not if it’s because he’d been a blind fool.

“Luckily for you, I have something to take your mind off it,” Elias continues, and Jaskier frowns; It’d never been a good sign when he’d said that as a child and it doesn’t seem like one now.

“Men!”

Before Jaskier can think to move, there’s someone holding his arms down above his head and someone else pressing his knees to the cold ground and Elias is kneeling above him, smiling in a way that suggests he doesn’t know a smile is meant to be a good thing.

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asks, struggling, succeeding only in causing the chains to rattle as he pulls on them.

Elias unsheathes a dagger and twirls it between his fingers - the horror grows in Jaskier’s stomach as he realises it’s one of his own.

“Do you remember how you would write notes to yourself on your skin when our teachers confiscated your notebooks?”

Jaskier inhales sharply and tugs on his limbs but Elias pays him no heed and all he manages to do is rub the shackles painfully against his wrists and ankles.

Elias unbuttons his shirt and presses the tip of the dagger on the skin just above his heart. “Why don’t we remind you where your heart should lie?”

And then he pierces skin.

Jaskier tries not to make a sound, he really does, but he can only bite his lip for so long and eventually the sharp pain becomes too loud and he just wants to drown it out and his voice takes that as an invitation to escape his lips.

“Please, don’t-!”

He wants to curl up but he can’t, the hands keeping him in place are using bruising force, and all he can do is throw his head back and scream.

Elias is saying something but he can’t hear it because it hurts, it hurts so much, and he wishes he were stronger so he could stop it from hurting but he can’t, he can’t do anything and he’s so scared, he’s-

“Jaskier!”

The dagger freezes inside his skin and he whimpers, too scared to worry about the tears he can feel sliding off his face.

“Get off him!”

There’s a moment of silence before the dagger moves again, half a scream being pulled from his lips.

And then there’s chaos.

Jaskier doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just scrambles backwards until he hits a wall and slumps against it, one hand weakly pressed against what he can feel to be his given name carved just above his heart.

“Hey, Jaskier, look at me,” a voice asks, and he vaguely notes that it sounds much nicer than his own had sounded when he was screaming.

“Jas, it’s just me, it’s Eskel,” the voice that he now remembers is the witcher he loves tells him.

“I’m getting you out of here, Jaskier,” Eskel promises.

Oh.

The only thing that Jaskier can focus on is how Eskel keeps calling him Jaskier. He’d been so, so afraid that Elias had turned him back into Julian but no, he’d been wrong, he was always Jaskier to Eskel and as long as Eskel is okay, he can still be Jaskier.

“It hurts, I’m sorry, it hurts,” Jaskier whimpers as Eskel tries to pull him up, the chains clicking against themselves as he does.

Eskel presses his lips to Jaskier’s forehead. “You’re okay, you’re going to be okay.”

Being okay is debatable but he's definitely not going to be Elias’ Julian - he’s going to be Eskel’s Jaskier.

-///-

Taverns can be dangerous places.

Jaskier knows this because he’s been in countless tavern brawls and he’s been thrown out of them more times than he can count.

But the worst part of staying in taverns is the people who can’t handle being denied.

“I told you, I can’t,” Jaskier repeats for the third time.

“Come on, just one night. It won’t make a difference,” the man who’d never taken his eyes off him all evening says.

“I appreciate the thought,” Jaskier replies, “but I really do have places to be and- hey!”

The man tugs sharply on his arm and although he pulls himself free, it’s not before they’re outside. He makes to go back inside but the man grabs his wrist and pulls him back, pressing him against the tavern wall.

“Listen, I won’t stand for this,” Jaskier warns, but this time, he can’t get his wrist free.

He tries to shove his knee into the man’s stomach but he dodges and twists Jaskier’s wrist enough to make his entire arm go numb.

Jaskier gasps, doubling over.

“Shame, we could have done this the nice way,” the man says, sounding genuinely remorseful.

“We’re not doing this at all,” Jaskier bites out, punching the man’s throat and slipping out of his grip when he splutters.

But then there’s an arm around his waist and he’s being spun until he’s back against the wall, the man’s legs bracketing his own. Too late does he notice that the man’s teeth are just a little too sharp, his eyes just a little too bright.

“Who exactly are you?” Jaskier breathes, fear pooling in his stomach.

“Just an admirer,” the man drawls, running one of his nails down the side of Jaskier’s face as his whole body freezes.

Something dawns on Jaskier. “You’re the one Eskel is hunting.”

The man grins, leaning closer, practically whispering into his ear, “And you’re the one I was hunting.

Coldness clutches at Jaskier’s heart and he struggles once more but the man - not really a man but Jaskier isn’t sure what he is, to be honest - just tuts, tightening his grip on Jaskier’s wrist. “You should have said yes, bard.”

“And just let you kill me?” Jaskier scoffs.

The man tilts his head to one side. “All I wanted was one night. You wouldn’t even remember,” he says, causing dread to fill Jaskier’s veins.

“No, no no n-”

“Shh.” The man places his finger on Jaskier’s lips and he can’t help but shudder at how cold his touch is.

Only when fingers gently, creepily tug on his hair and guide his head backwards does Jaskier realise the man has let go of his wrist. His eyes widen but he doesn’t move, not wanting to waste his opportunity.

He waits until he hears a familiar set of footsteps before lifting his arms and shoving with everything he has, ignoring the ghost of the man’s lips against his neck.

And it works.

Because the man who isn’t really a man screams as Eskel’s sword slices into him.

He’s dead before he hits the floor but Jaskier doesn’t care, all he cares about is replacing that cold touch with Eskel’s warm embrace, which he does immediately, even as his legs threaten to liquefy under him. And Eskel holds him up despite his weak limbs, pulling him close, murmuring apologies that Jaskier will make him take back later.

For now, he’s content to replace his fear with the safety of simply being near Eskel.

-///-

Hearts can be dangerous places.

Jaskier knows this because he's managed to fall in love dozens of times and living in the hearts of others has never worked out well for him.

Either he's thrown out of both hearts and beds alike or he has to sacrifice his love in order to continue with his life.

And he's tired of it.

He doesn't want to settle down but he wants to be rooted all the same.

He wants to go to the coast and he wants to have somewhere to call his own and he really just wants to know he can hide in someone's heart when the world becomes too much of a storm.

But he's scared.

He's scared to ask anyone to commit to such a thing because people don't usually want to hear the work that goes into his songs and nobody can tolerate his impractical tenancies.

So he's stuck being thrown from one place to another, taking everything he owns wherever he goes in fear of it getting stolen, never being able to stay in one place and relax for more than a week or so at a time. And he’s actually pretty good at pretending he’s fine.

That is, until a storm hits while he and Eskel are camped outside.

Neither of them feel it coming - only because it was magically-induced, as they later discover - until they’re woken by heavy rain that soaks them before they’re truly awake.

“Jaskier, come on!” Eskel yells from somewhere to Jaskier’s left.

He blinks away rain from his eyes and stumbles towards Eskel, grabbing onto his arm and anchoring himself as Eskel navigates them to a more sheltered section of the forest.

It’s not a perfect solution but the trees are more tightly packed and they can barely feel the rain so the two of them huddle under the largest one, both flinching when they first hear thunder.

“My notebooks,” Jaskier whimpers, moving to find said objects without thinking.

Eskel pulls him back, keeping him still. “I’m sorry but I don’t think they’ll be readable anymore.”

Jaskier doesn’t know why that bothers him so much but he can distinctly feel his face crumple. It’s hardly the first time such a thing has happened and it’s unlikely to be the last but he’s just so tired of it, so tired of being constantly scared he’s going to lose his work.

“What’s wrong?” Eskel asks softly.

“Nothing,” Jaskier mumbles, trying to convince himself he’s fine so Eskel can’t just smell how upset he is, but thunder chooses that moment to rumble once more and Jaskier flinches so hard he headbutts Eskel’s chin.

To his credit, Eskel doesn't remotely complain, pulling Jasker closer and curving himself around him to protect him from the incessant rain. Neither of them say anything until there’s a flash of lightning and Jaskier whimpers ever so quietly.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” Eskel asks, his voice as soft as velvet. “You’re not usually so afraid of storms. In fact, I’ve even seen you dance in them before.”

Jaskier sighs. “Maybe I don’t want to dance in storms anymore. Maybe I want to be safe inside, with a roof over my lute and notebooks so I don’t lose all my work!” He’s scared and angry but his voice keeps wobbling so he just ends up sounding a little broken.

Eskel traces little circles over his skin before nodding. “The town wasn’t far, we can-”

Jaskier shakes his head again, this time bitterly. “Go back so I have to sing my way into securing a decent meal? I’ll pass, thank you.”

“Where do you want to go then?” Eskel asks eventually, his voice oddly hesitant.

Jaskier feels awful immediately. He turns and weaves his fingers into Eskel’s hair, not caring that it’s literally dripping wet, and places a small kiss on Eskel’s nose. “I don’t want to go anywhere, darling, I want to stay with you. I want-”

When he just bites his lip instead of finishing his sentence, Eskel lifts a hand and brushes his hair out of his face. “What do you want, bardling?”

Jaskier doesn’t know. He’s scared of knowing what he wants because nothing he wants - that is, nobody he wants - usually stays with him for long and if he doesn’t officially set his heart on anything - that is, anyone - then he can’t officially have his heart broken.

But Eskel isn’t just anyone.

“Jaskier. What do you want?”

Thunder rumbles as if on cue and Jaskier jumps, squeezing his eyes shut. He only opens them again when he feels Eskel’s arms wrap around him like a shield, a blanket, a cage he’d be happy to be locked within forever.

He exhales slowly, looking up at Eskel. “What do you think about the coast?”

Eskel frowns and for a horrible moment, Jaskier is terrified that those words were a trigger to the end of everything they share. But then Eskel offers him a small smile and nods, leaning closer as he whispers, “As soon as the storm passes.”

And by gods if that doesn’t mean the world to Jaskier.

“Are you sure?” he asks, this time barely even registering the lightning that crackles somewhere above them.

Eskel nods again. “A roof over your head and the ocean at your door, I promise.”

Jaskier gently elbows him. “A roof over our heads, I think you mean, and the ocean at our door?”

The smile on Eskel’s face is worth almost as much as his promise.

So although the thunder and lightning continue, Jaskier finds that the heavy fear he’d been harbouring slides from his shoulders along with the rain. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s unafraid of whatever kinds of storms life throws his way.

Because for once, he’s not uncertain about where to go next and okay, they haven’t figured everything out, but he can be sure that a witcher - or at least, his witcher - wouldn’t commit to anything without intending to stick around for good.

And in Eskel’s arms, he can finally be fearless.

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previous: “insecurities”

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