Imagine Warlord!Geralt and Translator!Jaskier, both of whom are rather resigned to their roles, especially Jaskier.
Seriously, the bard was still pissed at Geralt after what he said on that mountain. And yeah, it was sweet of the witcher to come and save him personally from the Nilfgaardian soldiers when he was captured for information. But the only reason they wanted Jaskier in the first place was because Geralt had somehow wound up gathering quite a bit of power to keep his Child Surprise safe, which, while sweet, had resulted in Jaskier being tortured for information. On the witcher warlord. Which was apparently now a thing.
Jaskier didn’t even know why he was surprised anymore as he found himself dragged to a treaty meeting between the elves and the new…nation? Domain? Entity? Jaskier didn’t actually know what they were calling Kaer Morhen and the neighboring cities the witchers, witches, and mages united under Geralt had claimed. He was dreadfully underprepared for this meeting, and had no idea why Yen seemed insistent he attend, something about a communication issue.
Which—okay, Jaskier could help with that. He was a little surprised to find he was the only one on the entire mountain to speak Elder, and even more confused why Yen couldn’t just use her witchiness to make people understand, but whatever. It was a morning meeting, so Jaskier just sat down, focused on translating Elder and Geralt’s various grunts, and spent the next two hours wishing desperately for his warm furs and comfortable bed.
And Jaskier rolled his eyes at Geralt’s grateful expression afterwards, although it did leave Jaskier feeling a bit warmer than he’d been since reaching Kaer Morhen. Since the soldiers had taken him from his room in the middle of the night.
So when he was once again dragged out of bed to help with the dwarves, he went a little more willingly this time. Although, honestly, even he was struggling a bit as dwarvish was not one of the languages he focused on much at Oxenfurt. But if he was all they had, he would do his best to make sure that the message Geralt was trying to give was received accurately, and that Geralt was well aware of what exactly he was agreeing to in this treaty.
And maybe Jaskier bought some books about the languages from the different countries Geralt was dealing with now. But it was just because he was bored, honestly, it’s not as if there’s much to do stuck in a cold keep with everyone too busy most nights to listen to a bard.
(Secretly, Jaskier liked feeling useful. He knew he didn’t have a role in this stronghold, not like the witches and mages and witchers and various workers. So if he spent hours each day studying, trying to make himself more knowledgeable, more indispensable, no one could really blame him. He knew what happened to people who weren’t useful.
He’d learned that lesson the hard way.)
While it wasn’t singing and entertaining for the masses, Jaskier grew to like his new job. As more meetings occurred, he found Geralt even asking for him in the evening to talk to him about specifics and checking document wording for loopholes, even occasionally turning to Jaskier during the interactions with the other parties to ask his opinion. It was…rather nice. It made the bard feel wanted, if nothing else.
And then, on a morning Jaskier had been planning on using to sleep in, thank you very much, the disgruntled man found himself dragged to the meeting with the representative from Redania. Which was…weird.
More than a little confused, Jaskier sat down in his seat, too baffled to even wither under the glare from Yen at his tardiness. Honestly, what did they expect! How was he supposed to know they wanted him here?! Yes, Geralt did sometimes ask what he thought, but at the end of the day, the witcher had advisors for such things.
So Jaskier watched, waiting for this to make sense, until Geralt spoke and everyone turned to him. Waiting. Which was…okay.
Clearing his throat, Jaskier repeated what the witcher had said, with a few added words (sentences) because honestly, the witcher still didn’t speak in complete thoughts, barely more than grunts, really, and—
Jaskier froze, glad the Redanian representative was speaking now as that meant Jaskier didn’t need to listen. Not really. Because, as Jaskier had just realized, he had a very different job than he’d initially assumed.
Jaskier was a translator, yes. And he was chosen, apparently, because he was the only one who spoke the language that others struggled to understand. The language Jaskier had spent literal decades of his life learning through trial and error.
germansingergirl
janainaart
annaxmalina
discoholicmusic
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
