Jaskier is on a mission to find some important information from Lord Harnhem’s estate and Geralt insists on going with him to protect him. The only problem is that Lord Harnhem doesn’t allow witchers on his property without a human master to control them.
Geralt immediately insists on pretending that Jaskier is his master, to make sure the bard is protected. If he likes wearing Jaskier’s collar a little too much, well, that’s his own business. There’s no need to bother Jaskier about it.
Jaskier is on a mission to find some important information from Lord Harnhem’s estate and Geralt insists on going with him to protect him. The only problem is that Lord Harnhem doesn’t allow witchers on his property without a human master to control them.
Geralt immediately insists on pretending that Jaskier is his master, to make sure the bard is protected. If he likes wearing Jaskier’s collar a little too much, well, that’s his own business. There’s no need to bother Jaskier about it.
Oh my god im the anon with the cuckoowitcher ask. I've been running around all day trying to have a few quiet Moments to read! I really loved it thank you so much. I've been reading all your lovely Storys but I have to say I have a Soft Spot for cuckoo Jas. Thank you for responding and writing something so sweet. Still love your writing and it still helps a hell a lot! Lots of love! Hope to see much more
Some people get stuck in my head and you, cuckoo Jaskier Nonnie, are one of those people because you’re always so polite and sweet. So while I may not have more cuckoo Jaskier stories at the moment, I wonder whether you’d like something else. There’s a lot of warlord Geralt going around, with Jaskier offered up as a tribute. But has anybody ever considered warlord Jaskier before?
It had started off as a side gig, Jaskier would always be adamant about that. He had wanted to be a bard. Sing songs, witness adventures and maybe be adored by the masses, that was his grand plan for life. Unfortunately, being a travelling bard didn’t pay well and people weren’t as quick to laud him as Jaskier had hoped. However, according to Redanian Secret Services, he was in the unique position to help them gather intelligence. So, on the side as Jaskier collected materials for his greatest works yet, he also picked up intel on armies, prisoners, relationships between factions, species and kingdoms. It was quite eye opening.
The only problem with it all was that Jaskier wasn’t stupid. He could see where wars were brewing, what allegiances were being forged. And, really, Jaskier thought he could do so much better. The information he was returning back to Redania wasn’t being used in the best way possible. So Jaskier started tailoring the information to ‘help’ them along. He had also managed to make friends with a few of the other intelligence officers, namely Valdo and Priscilla. Between the three of them, they had quite a spread of information and spent many a drunken night gossiping over maps, discussing how they would solve the problems of the continent.
One thing led to another and suddenly Jaskier had more than two fellow spies at his beck and call. Somehow he’d ended up with the loyalty of the dwarves, Zoltan and his crew being quite helpful. Then Filavandrel and his elves entered a truce with Jaskier, followed by Triss Merigold and a handful of sorceresses. It was haphazard at best but word travelled. And suddenly Jaskier was being approached by the Redanian Secret Service not as a spy but as an equal. They wanted to trade information and Jaskier almost laughed. Except, after Redania came Nilfgaard, offering riches in exchange for information and good relations. Not like Jaskier had an army or lands or anything like that. Did he? The dwarves and elves had their own regions, Redania was trying to save face that their own officers had done a better job of keeping the peace. Well, there was no harm in keeping on good terms with Nilfgaard, they had been the thorn in the continent’s side for a while. Maybe by being friendly, Jaskier and co could actually help settle issues.
When Temeria took umbrage at Jaskier’s meddling, it was one hell of an awkward moment because Redania, Nilfgaard, elves, dwarves and even Aedirn joined forces to quiet the unrest. Which was a turning point of sorts. Suddenly, every kingdom great or small came knocking on Jaskier’s door. He’d returned to Lettenhove because home was home. The steady stream of well wishers and ambassadors was, frankly, embarrassing. Jaskier had a hard time keeping up with everything.
Then there was the matter of Kaedwen. They were trying to be fiercely independent and up in arms. It just wasn’t going to do and, for the first time in his life, Jaskier asked his newfound allies if anyone was willing to raise arms against the threat. Unsurprisingly, Nilfgaard was down for a battle or two but they were joined by the elves. Redania offered medical assistance while the dwarves and trolls helped with supplies. It was all rather anticlimactic, an army marching to Kaedwen, only to be greeted by a white flag.
Not all battles were so easy though, sometimes factions arose, Cintra was being a royal twit and the war fought with them and Skellige was brutal. In the end though, they were defeated, Queen Calanthe had to admit defeat. Despite this, they weren’t prepared to roll over and play nice. In an attempt to display might and dignity, they sent the most extravagant offerings to Lettenhove. It wasn’t riches, no silks, no finery or gold. Instead, they had captured the most difficult of offerings. A witcher.
He was trussed up in his own silver chains. Silver for monsters as witchers had been known to say. It was a warning from Cintra, they had caught the most feared of beasts, the monster designed to kill all monsters. They wouldn’t bow down to a warlord, no matter what the kingdoms thought and did. The witcher was tied to a horse and made to walk behind it though a shuffle was a more apt description.
Jaskier stood in the hall of Lettenhove and watched as the half starved wretch was shoved to his knees in front of him. A hungry witcher was a weak one, much easier to subdue and manage.
“A gift, from Cintra,” the messenger had declared and stepped away with a bow.
Approaching the witcher, Jaskier ignored how every eye seemed trained on him, hands on swords and prepared to leap to his protection. Rather than pay them any attention, Jaskier sank to his knees in front of the witcher.
“Hello,” he offered. There was no response, the witcher’s head was bowed, whole body tense, trying to exude disdain and an air of threat. Up close, Jaskier could see the fine tremors through muscles though. He stood up. “Please pass my thanks to Cintra, I accept your fealty and this offering. Though I would request no more live tributes. Or dead ones! Gold, silks, food and shared knowledge is more than enough. Court dismissed.”
Nobody moved for a moment. “Everyone out!”
Jaskier stood next to the witcher who hadn’t moved throughout the exchange. As soon as they were alone, he was crouching down, tugging at the silver chains.
“You poor thing, how could they treat you like that.” Gradually, the witcher was freed from his bonds and as soon as he could, he had Jaskier’s own dagger at Jaskier’s throat. “Harsh,” Jaskier observed, “but fair. Can we save the killing for after dinner though? I have always found having a full stomach helped with most decisions.”
He didn’t expect the witcher to waver, the dagger fall from his hands and for him to collapse on the ground in a dead faint. It seemed that springing on Jaskier had really been the last of his energy. What a waste.
Needless to say, there was no killing after dinner. Jaskier learned that the witcher was called Geralt, he’d been to Cintra to collect his child surprise but Queen Calanthe had different ideas. Trapped, Geralt had been helpless to do anything which was how he’d ended up becoming an offering to a warlord.
That had Jaskier laughing. He wasn’t a warlord. If anything, Jaskier was a failed bard and a very bad intelligence officer because he thought he could do better than those he worked for. It wasn’t his fault people were pledging their allegiances to him or that he had to ask if anyone was willing to help deal with a threat to the peace that he was bringing to the continent. No, Jaskier wasn’t a warlord because he helped bring new rules to kingdoms and enforced them. Oh shit. He was a warlord. His parents were going to be so pissed off when they found out.
“I think they already know,” Geralt had interrupted Jaskier’s internal panic. “You might have been the last person on the continent to find out.”
“But I didn’t mean to become one.”
“I didn’t mean to become a witcher. Destiny is a bitch.” Geralt had shrugged. “At least you get to choose who you will speak to from different kingdoms. Is Emhyr over the fact you won’t talk to him yet? That you picked some general of his army as a representative”
Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward grin. “I mean, I just figured the Emperor of Nilfgaard himself wouldn’t want to deal with me. So I picked someone who would and who I liked. Then I heard of what Emhyr’s like and just decided I liked my pick better.”
Over the course of a week, Geralt ate and rested, gaining back his strength and resilience. Jaskier admired from afar, astounded by how quickly his witcher seemed to bounce back. Not his witcher. Geralt didn’t belong to anyone. Even if Jaskier quite fancied the idea.
“You’re free to come and go. I’ve set out a new law that’s making its way round the lands. Witchers are to be lauded and appreciated for their hard work,” Jaskier said as he stood, facing Geralt by the stables. His witcher was ready to head out on the Path again, hopefully it was going to be a little easier for him from now on.
“Thank you.” The thing was, Geralt sounded so earnestly genuine. “I was wondering, could you keep something safe for me until I return?”
An unusual request but Jaskier would help if he could.
“You’ve been a wonderful guest, even if your arrival wasn’t the most wholesome one. I’ll keep anything safe for you.”
He didn’t anticipate Geralt leaning in to kiss him chastely. “Keep my heart safe. I’m leaving it in your good care.”
The bastard then had the gall to hop onto his horse and ride off without a backwards glance. Jaskier was going to tell him exactly what he thought of that tactic when he came back. Until then, he would treasure Geralt’s heart, even if he didn’t have time to officially give his own in return.
This was supposed to be a simple prompt fill I got for Jaskier, being on onlyfans, but BOY, did that escalate-
They are both pining!! Geralt is a bit desensitized at this point with watching Jaskier having sex or getting himself off - he sees the craft and the labour and the art that goes into that, and how professional Jaskier can be. (Not to say that there are sometimes things that make him go “!!!”. And the moaning is the worst part, especially if Jaskier actually enjoying himself very much.)
Your prompt: Jaskier falls asleep in Geralt’s lap and Geralt has a conversation with someone else while stroking Jaskier’s hair. (I had fully intended to go spicy, but this prompt… it’s so soft….)
~
Eskel had been expecting Geralt to return for the winter. He had not been expecting the bard.
It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant surprise. They’d been subjected to Geralt’s unintentional rhapsodizing about his bard for years, and he’d hoped that actually having Jaskier amongst them in the keep might mean they’d be forced to listen to less of his rambling. Geralt wasn’t even aware he was doing it - Lambert had called him out on it last winter during training, and the argument had quickly dissolved into a scuffle.
Back then, Geralt had sworn at Lambert, and asked what the fuck he was implying. Lambert had only smirked at him, which had made it worse: he didn’t need to imply anything.
And now the bard was here, in all his apparent glory.
They’d been playing drinking games and singing increasingly lewd songs one cold evening a couple of weeks after Geralt and Jaskier had arrived at the keep. Jaskier was a good drinker, but even he couldn’t keep up with the gull-spiked vodka that Eskel and his brothers were knocking back.
He’d slumped against Geralt’s shoulder, snoozing drunkenly, his mouth hanging open. Geralt was clearly trying very hard not to disturb him, sitting in a stiff-backed, tense way that was only exacerbated by the drink. When Geralt had finally moved, reaching for a gwent card, the bard toppled fully into his lap, his head resting peacefully against Geralt’s thighs.
They’d continued to drink for a good two hours afterwards before finally calling it a night. Geralt had gently shaken Jaskier awake, who’d mumbled incoherently as he led him upstairs. Lambert folded his arms across his chest, leaning on the bench, watching them go.
“I thought the spare rooms were on the other side of the keep?” He said.
“They are,” Eskel replied, packing away his deck. “But he’s been staying in Geralt’s room since they got here. You didn’t realise?”
“And they’re not…?”
“They are definitely not.”
“Fuck.” Lambert snorted. “Did you see what he was doing?”
“What, playing with Jaskier’s hair for the past hour? Kinda hard to miss.”
“Pathetic, isn’t it? D’you think he even realised he was doing it?”
Eskel shook his head. “If he doesn’t work it out soon, I’m going to throw myself in the lake.” He paused. “Maybe throw him in the lake.”
“How about a wager?”
Eskel tucked his cards into a pocket. “I’m listening.”
“Fifty crowns says they’ll be fucking before winter’s out.”
Eskel considered this. He considered how much of a fool his brother was - and how much Jaskier clearly didn’t want to lose him by pushing Geralt further than he was comfortable with. He stuck out his hand.
is it objectively fun? yeah duh. is it the fandom latching onto one offhand joke and exaggerating it as a singular character trait in wild and amusing ways? yeah. will I ever tire of seeing images of eskel cradling little baby goats in his big gentle arms? NO
Jaskier is on a mission to find some important information from Lord Harnhem’s estate and Geralt insists on going with him to protect him. The only problem is that Lord Harnhem doesn’t allow witchers on his property without a human master to control them.
Geralt immediately insists on pretending that Jaskier is his master, to make sure the bard is protected. If he likes wearing Jaskier’s collar a little too much, well, that’s his own business. There’s no need to bother Jaskier about it.
i encourage you to go to your favourite writer's ao3 page and comment on an older fic, because i can assure you that it will make their day. It can mean so much to see your work doesn't disappear into the void to be never seen again after a day of people interacting with it. Just, if you have the time, go comment on an older work
(pls reblog this to try and get as much writers a bit of appreciation)
Jaskier is on a mission to find some important information from Lord Harnhem’s estate and Geralt insists on going with him to protect him. The only problem is that Lord Harnhem doesn’t allow witchers on his property without a human master to control them.
Geralt immediately insists on pretending that Jaskier is his master, to make sure the bard is protected. If he likes wearing Jaskier’s collar a little too much, well, that’s his own business. There’s no need to bother Jaskier about it.
Jaskier is on a mission to find some important information from Lord Harnhem's estate and Geralt insists on going with him to protect him. The only problem is that Lord Harnhem doesn't allow witchers on his property without a human master to control them.
Geralt immediately insists on pretending that Jaskier is his master, to make sure the bard is protected. If he likes wearing Jaskier's collar a little too much, well, that's his own business. There's no need to bother Jaskier about it.
