The fact Geralt just rolls with it speaks volumes of how exhausted he is. Jaskier is relieved to know he won't have to scold him or hell, even argue with him for it, and so he doesn't even comment on the fact Geralt keeps his clothes on. That's fine, as long as the armor is off - besides, without their things here to pick some kind of night clothing, it's better if he keeps those on to fight the chill anyway.
A couple of things he does fix though: he takes off the witcher's boots, then pulls the covers from under that heavy body, which leaves him panting. Damn those sexy muscles! But the effort is worth it to be able to keep his lover warm - and himself too! Because after taking off his own boots, cloak and doublet, he sneaks under the covers, puts his arms around Geralt, his head on his chest, and lets exhaustion take him as well.
Sleep comes easily, and Jaskier rests while smiling at the fact Geralt cuddles him back. Warm, protection and affection, such a perfect combo. The fact this will be his life from now on is still hard to believe.
There's something he didn't take into account, however: Jaskier did get to sleep the past few days, Geralt is way more tired than he is. Which means he wakes up first, only to find himself caged by witcher strength. Bollocks. He tries to be romantic about it at first, taking a moment to simply enjoy the moment - Geralt's peaceful sleeping face, the slow beating of his heart, their closeness, the fact they're cuddling in freaking Kaer Morhen. But as time passes, it's obvious that Geralt isn't waking up any time soon. Crying out for help isn't really an option - it would be embarrassing, bother his boyfriend, and he doubts anybody is nearby to hear him anyway, witcher hearing or not.
Thankfully, he's wrong - Eskel comes to his rescue when he stops by to drop their things. They had expected Geralt to do his hibernation thing, but he had been worried Jaskier got lost. The bard would consider him a sweetheart if it wasn't for all the teasing he did after freeing him from his brother's arms - fuck, teasing over their relationship he can take, but being found like this is simply dumb!
He can't stay mad at him for long though. Eskel thanks him for the vodka and offers to pick him in half an hour or so, which Jaskier appreciates. He keeps himself busy by taking everything out of their bags, knowing what to put where and in what order after years of traveling together. Seeing his own things mixed with Geralt's in the witcher's very own room fills him with glee, so of course he hums while he works - not one of his, what a miracle. It's a light tune written before he was born about a couple that stood the test of time.
Mental note: write a ballad for the songbird and the wolf soon.
Jaskier is finishing changing his clothes into clean (but still very fashionable, colorful and warm) clothes when Eskel comes by again, earning a toothy grin from the witcher when he sees him put on a bright light blue poncho-like cloak with golden embroidery and close it over his chest by using the wolf brooch. What can he say? That little thing means too much to him to let go of it so soon. Besides, hopefully this will help reinforce the message for the other witchers as well:
Someone out there cares for you.
Lute on his back and gifts in his arms, Jaskier follows his new friend around for a mini tour of the place. And honestly, Eskel has to be the best choice for a guide around here (sorry, Geralt, this bard loves you, but being stingy with the details isn't fun when Jaskier is vibrating with curiosity) - he's friendly, chatty, and doesn't mind answering Jaskier's questions. While it's obvious that he saves certain information for himself, his expression darkening at what can only be bad memories, he never dismisses the bard with a grunt or a shut up, he offers the little he can or at least says no idea, sorry. There's no doubt in Jaskier's mind that he'll become his favorite witcher after Geralt, no need to meet the other two.
What truly seals the deal is when he asks why he isn't allowed to go to the basement.
"Dangerous experiment leftovers. Stay out of it for the sake of everyone."
The pain in his voice makes his stomach turn, and Jaskier wishes he could've brought him so much more than just vodka. No treating him like a child, no hiding behind the 'secrets' excuse - the reason is succinct but clear. If Jaskier hadn't had his arms full of gifts, maybe this could be the perfect moment for that hug he deserves. Another thing for later - but one thing he knows for sure now: the first song he writes in Kaer Morhen will be for Eskel.
They separate at the library, where Jaskier finds Ciri reading through more monster books with a big bowl of grapes by her side. The library itself is absolutely stunning - maybe visually it doesn't look as the fancy one in Oxenfurt, but the sense of ancient knowledge is in the air, in every stone and every chair. It's the kind of atmosphere Jaskier knows he'll lose himself into more than a couple of times this winter.
But that can wait - first he gotta talk with the princess, who is thankful for having an excuse for a break. Cirilla loves every single present he's brought her, blushing furiously when she reaches the linen rags and notices one of the books the bard has brought for the library. Jaskier offers to help her put up her hair in braids, to allow those lovely new ribbons to 'debut', and she accepts after a moment of hesitation.
He brings up the heavy topics then, giving her the chance of to hide her face while he works behind her.
Jaskier tells her that he's sorry for her loss, tells her there's a lot she'll be hearing about the choices of his grandmother, but as far as he goes, he loved singing in Cintra every time, no regrets are had. He tells her he was there the day the Law of Surprise was called, which makes her speak up for the first time since he starting brushing her hair, curious with questions. Geralt had been stingy with the details, and Jaskier isn't even a little bit surprises. He tells her that she's the living image of Pavetta, that there's a ballad he wrote for her parents that he never got to sing because White Wolf related songs were forbidden in Cintra, and promises to sing them to her when she's ready.
He tells her he misses his own grandmother as well. He tells her he misses the huge, beautiful garden he grew up with - no more details are given, but she quickly catches on, especially when he mentions all the things Geralt had to teach him when he joined him on the road. She's a very smart girl, and he can tell she's warming up to him, laughing when he tells her the embarrassing parts of the improvised survival training he had to go through when he decided to follow certain witcher around. Not something he'd usually share, Jaskier always dresses up his stories, but this honesty is probably the best way to reach her, to make her feel better about feeling out of place in here.
He tells her he understands.
He tells her that after a day of reading about monsters and tiring her body out while learning how to use a sword, she can come to him and they can read some poetry, sing some old court songs, share stories about terrorizing their nursemaids.
He tells he can teach her to read every muscle of Geralt's face and understand every grunt.
He tells her he's here for her if she ever needs him.
When the braids are done, she hugs him. They both want to cry, but neither of them do, stubborn nobles that they are.
The start of a friendship has been forged, at the very least, and Jaskier leaves the library with less weight in his arms and also his heart - a heavy emotional moment had been had, and now they can both feel lighter for it, more ready to deal with whatever spending a winter with five witchers can throw at them.
By the time he makes it to the training grounds with three books in his arms, his scent is softly sweet, showing how pleased he's been with this day so far (ignoring the little trapped incident in the morning, thank you very much). Said grounds aren't difficult to find, by the way, because he can hear the witchers bantering and throwing jabs at each other in between grunts and sword clashes.
He decides to stay at the threshold for a moment before letting his presence known, even if he knows they probably heard his heartbeat many steps ago. There is Vesemir, correcting everyone's posture, and Eskel, calling someone out for being a prick. Ah, there's Lambert, and honestly? Jaskier is a little disappointed. His insults are strong, that's for sure, but they're also direct and crass, just being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole - nothing like, and Jaskier can't believe he's thinking this, the smart banter and word play of Yennefer's. Well, at least that means he won't have trouble handling the dickhead, a man so coarse with his mouth will never out-word a bard.
The last one must be Coën, and Jaskier realizes that even if he hadn't already known the wolves and nobody had been wearing their medallions, he would've still been able to identify a griffin. Jaskier may not be a master swordman, but after watching Geralt fight for two decades, he can easily see the same style in the way Eskel and Lambert move, but not in Coën. Fascinating. His beard is well kept, which surprises the bard after so many years of seeing his wolf be a disaster with his hair, and he can't help wondering if it's there to help with the unusual scars on his face. A disease, perhaps?
As cherry on top of all this information, every single one of them is really handsome. How is that even fair.
It's Lambert being a passive aggressive ass that snaps Jaskier out of his thoughts. He doesn't even turn around to look at him when he replies to whatever Eskel's jab had been.
"You're becoming soft, brother. Soon you'll be singing and bringing books to a sword fight."
"It wouldn't be fair for Eskel to fight you with words." Jaskier quickly replies, making everyone turn to finally look at him and acknowledge his presence. Ah, sweet attention, his ego has missed you. "Even in a battle of wits, there's no honor in attacking someone who's totally unarmed."
Eskel loses it then, his laughter reward enough for Jaskier, but there's also the amazing frustrated expression on Lambert's face. Coën raises his eyebrows in surprise, obviously not having heard enough stories about Jaskier to have at least an idea of what's coming - his nose twitches, obviously discovering there's no smell of fear. Good. Let them smell how pleased the bard is with himself at the moment.
"Bold little shit, aren't you, bard?" Lambert finally replies as he comes closer, trying to look intimidating - and he'd succeed with any other person that hadn't spent two decades travelling with Mr Brooding. "I know words that would make your delicate ears bleed."
Oh, he makes it so easy for Jaskier to come up with comebacks, gods. "If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I'd fart."
This time, Coën joins the laughter, although his is more of a discrete chuckle, nothing like Eskel's unrestrained laughter. Lambert has more to say, but Vesemir chooses that moment to jump in.
"Enough!" Eskel and Lambert don't need any more words - just one from his mentor is enough for them to return to their sparring while looking like scolded children. Vesemir turns to Jaskier then. "You, bard - unless you're interested in learning to pick up a sword, then take your books back inside."
"Your books now." Jaskier says after taking a deep breath. Unlike Lambert, Vesemir does manage to intimate him at least a bit, and he knows all of them must be hearing how fast his heart has suddenly started to beat. Bollocks. Usually he would be against the bad treatment of books, but he knows he's already pushing many limits here, coming closer isn't an option - so instead, he picks the top book of his pile (the one about the human reproductive system) and throws it to Vesemir's feet. "There's a woman in the keep now, and she needs you to learn as much as she learns from you. Enhanced senses you may have, yet somehow the fact women bleed once a month has completely gone over all of your witchering heads."
There's a moment of silence as Vesemir picks up the book, surprising everyone in the yard. So maybe he did notice something after all... Melitele bless this humble bard, please, there may be some hope for these disasters after all.
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A couple of things he does fix though: he takes off the witcher's boots, then pulls the covers from under that heavy body, which leaves him panting. Damn those sexy muscles! But the effort is worth it to be able to keep his lover warm - and himself too! Because after taking off his own boots, cloak and doublet, he sneaks under the covers, puts his arms around Geralt, his head on his chest, and lets exhaustion take him as well.
Sleep comes easily, and Jaskier rests while smiling at the fact Geralt cuddles him back. Warm, protection and affection, such a perfect combo. The fact this will be his life from now on is still hard to believe.
There's something he didn't take into account, however: Jaskier did get to sleep the past few days, Geralt is way more tired than he is. Which means he wakes up first, only to find himself caged by witcher strength. Bollocks. He tries to be romantic about it at first, taking a moment to simply enjoy the moment - Geralt's peaceful sleeping face, the slow beating of his heart, their closeness, the fact they're cuddling in freaking Kaer Morhen. But as time passes, it's obvious that Geralt isn't waking up any time soon. Crying out for help isn't really an option - it would be embarrassing, bother his boyfriend, and he doubts anybody is nearby to hear him anyway, witcher hearing or not.
Thankfully, he's wrong - Eskel comes to his rescue when he stops by to drop their things. They had expected Geralt to do his hibernation thing, but he had been worried Jaskier got lost. The bard would consider him a sweetheart if it wasn't for all the teasing he did after freeing him from his brother's arms - fuck, teasing over their relationship he can take, but being found like this is simply dumb!
He can't stay mad at him for long though. Eskel thanks him for the vodka and offers to pick him in half an hour or so, which Jaskier appreciates. He keeps himself busy by taking everything out of their bags, knowing what to put where and in what order after years of traveling together. Seeing his own things mixed with Geralt's in the witcher's very own room fills him with glee, so of course he hums while he works - not one of his, what a miracle. It's a light tune written before he was born about a couple that stood the test of time.
Mental note: write a ballad for the songbird and the wolf soon.
Jaskier is finishing changing his clothes into clean (but still very fashionable, colorful and warm) clothes when Eskel comes by again, earning a toothy grin from the witcher when he sees him put on a bright light blue poncho-like cloak with golden embroidery and close it over his chest by using the wolf brooch. What can he say? That little thing means too much to him to let go of it so soon. Besides, hopefully this will help reinforce the message for the other witchers as well:
Someone out there cares for you.
Lute on his back and gifts in his arms, Jaskier follows his new friend around for a mini tour of the place. And honestly, Eskel has to be the best choice for a guide around here (sorry, Geralt, this bard loves you, but being stingy with the details isn't fun when Jaskier is vibrating with curiosity) - he's friendly, chatty, and doesn't mind answering Jaskier's questions. While it's obvious that he saves certain information for himself, his expression darkening at what can only be bad memories, he never dismisses the bard with a grunt or a shut up, he offers the little he can or at least says no idea, sorry. There's no doubt in Jaskier's mind that he'll become his favorite witcher after Geralt, no need to meet the other two.
What truly seals the deal is when he asks why he isn't allowed to go to the basement.
"Dangerous experiment leftovers. Stay out of it for the sake of everyone."
The pain in his voice makes his stomach turn, and Jaskier wishes he could've brought him so much more than just vodka. No treating him like a child, no hiding behind the 'secrets' excuse - the reason is succinct but clear. If Jaskier hadn't had his arms full of gifts, maybe this could be the perfect moment for that hug he deserves. Another thing for later - but one thing he knows for sure now: the first song he writes in Kaer Morhen will be for Eskel.
They separate at the library, where Jaskier finds Ciri reading through more monster books with a big bowl of grapes by her side. The library itself is absolutely stunning - maybe visually it doesn't look as the fancy one in Oxenfurt, but the sense of ancient knowledge is in the air, in every stone and every chair. It's the kind of atmosphere Jaskier knows he'll lose himself into more than a couple of times this winter.
But that can wait - first he gotta talk with the princess, who is thankful for having an excuse for a break. Cirilla loves every single present he's brought her, blushing furiously when she reaches the linen rags and notices one of the books the bard has brought for the library. Jaskier offers to help her put up her hair in braids, to allow those lovely new ribbons to 'debut', and she accepts after a moment of hesitation.
He brings up the heavy topics then, giving her the chance of to hide her face while he works behind her.
Jaskier tells her that he's sorry for her loss, tells her there's a lot she'll be hearing about the choices of his grandmother, but as far as he goes, he loved singing in Cintra every time, no regrets are had. He tells her he was there the day the Law of Surprise was called, which makes her speak up for the first time since he starting brushing her hair, curious with questions. Geralt had been stingy with the details, and Jaskier isn't even a little bit surprises. He tells her that she's the living image of Pavetta, that there's a ballad he wrote for her parents that he never got to sing because White Wolf related songs were forbidden in Cintra, and promises to sing them to her when she's ready.
He tells her he misses his own grandmother as well. He tells her he misses the huge, beautiful garden he grew up with - no more details are given, but she quickly catches on, especially when he mentions all the things Geralt had to teach him when he joined him on the road. She's a very smart girl, and he can tell she's warming up to him, laughing when he tells her the embarrassing parts of the improvised survival training he had to go through when he decided to follow certain witcher around. Not something he'd usually share, Jaskier always dresses up his stories, but this honesty is probably the best way to reach her, to make her feel better about feeling out of place in here.
He tells her he understands.
He tells her that after a day of reading about monsters and tiring her body out while learning how to use a sword, she can come to him and they can read some poetry, sing some old court songs, share stories about terrorizing their nursemaids.
He tells he can teach her to read every muscle of Geralt's face and understand every grunt.
He tells her he's here for her if she ever needs him.
When the braids are done, she hugs him. They both want to cry, but neither of them do, stubborn nobles that they are.
The start of a friendship has been forged, at the very least, and Jaskier leaves the library with less weight in his arms and also his heart - a heavy emotional moment had been had, and now they can both feel lighter for it, more ready to deal with whatever spending a winter with five witchers can throw at them.
By the time he makes it to the training grounds with three books in his arms, his scent is softly sweet, showing how pleased he's been with this day so far (ignoring the little trapped incident in the morning, thank you very much). Said grounds aren't difficult to find, by the way, because he can hear the witchers bantering and throwing jabs at each other in between grunts and sword clashes.
He decides to stay at the threshold for a moment before letting his presence known, even if he knows they probably heard his heartbeat many steps ago. There is Vesemir, correcting everyone's posture, and Eskel, calling someone out for being a prick. Ah, there's Lambert, and honestly? Jaskier is a little disappointed. His insults are strong, that's for sure, but they're also direct and crass, just being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole - nothing like, and Jaskier can't believe he's thinking this, the smart banter and word play of Yennefer's. Well, at least that means he won't have trouble handling the dickhead, a man so coarse with his mouth will never out-word a bard.
The last one must be Coën, and Jaskier realizes that even if he hadn't already known the wolves and nobody had been wearing their medallions, he would've still been able to identify a griffin. Jaskier may not be a master swordman, but after watching Geralt fight for two decades, he can easily see the same style in the way Eskel and Lambert move, but not in Coën. Fascinating. His beard is well kept, which surprises the bard after so many years of seeing his wolf be a disaster with his hair, and he can't help wondering if it's there to help with the unusual scars on his face. A disease, perhaps?
As cherry on top of all this information, every single one of them is really handsome. How is that even fair.
It's Lambert being a passive aggressive ass that snaps Jaskier out of his thoughts. He doesn't even turn around to look at him when he replies to whatever Eskel's jab had been.
"You're becoming soft, brother. Soon you'll be singing and bringing books to a sword fight."
"It wouldn't be fair for Eskel to fight you with words." Jaskier quickly replies, making everyone turn to finally look at him and acknowledge his presence. Ah, sweet attention, his ego has missed you. "Even in a battle of wits, there's no honor in attacking someone who's totally unarmed."
Eskel loses it then, his laughter reward enough for Jaskier, but there's also the amazing frustrated expression on Lambert's face. Coën raises his eyebrows in surprise, obviously not having heard enough stories about Jaskier to have at least an idea of what's coming - his nose twitches, obviously discovering there's no smell of fear. Good. Let them smell how pleased the bard is with himself at the moment.
"Bold little shit, aren't you, bard?" Lambert finally replies as he comes closer, trying to look intimidating - and he'd succeed with any other person that hadn't spent two decades travelling with Mr Brooding. "I know words that would make your delicate ears bleed."
Oh, he makes it so easy for Jaskier to come up with comebacks, gods. "If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I'd fart."
This time, Coën joins the laughter, although his is more of a discrete chuckle, nothing like Eskel's unrestrained laughter. Lambert has more to say, but Vesemir chooses that moment to jump in.
"Enough!" Eskel and Lambert don't need any more words - just one from his mentor is enough for them to return to their sparring while looking like scolded children. Vesemir turns to Jaskier then. "You, bard - unless you're interested in learning to pick up a sword, then take your books back inside."
"Your books now." Jaskier says after taking a deep breath. Unlike Lambert, Vesemir does manage to intimate him at least a bit, and he knows all of them must be hearing how fast his heart has suddenly started to beat. Bollocks. Usually he would be against the bad treatment of books, but he knows he's already pushing many limits here, coming closer isn't an option - so instead, he picks the top book of his pile (the one about the human reproductive system) and throws it to Vesemir's feet. "There's a woman in the keep now, and she needs you to learn as much as she learns from you. Enhanced senses you may have, yet somehow the fact women bleed once a month has completely gone over all of your witchering heads."
There's a moment of silence as Vesemir picks up the book, surprising everyone in the yard. So maybe he did notice something after all... Melitele bless this humble bard, please, there may be some hope for these disasters after all.