"What?"
Geralt asks, frowning, a furrow in his brow.
"I turn into a wolf every full moon." Jaskier repeats.
"How-"
"You were always away on a hunt. You'd just meet me back in the morning."
"...You were a werewolf this whole time?"
"..Yes. I- I'm sorry, Darling. I never wanted to lie."
"Why didn't you trust me with this? Did you think I would hurt you?"
"No! I thought I would hurt you. I'm not myself on full moons, Geralt. I can't even remember them. All I know is that the moon raises, i feel this ache in my bones, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up the next morning, nude, with a full stomach of what is HOPEFULLY nothing gross."
"...You've not transformed in towns, have you?"
"No! Of course not! I'm terrified of hurting someone, Geralt! That's the only reason I'm telling you now! I got the charts mixed up, I thought the moon was still a week away, but it isn't, and we're near a town, and I need you to keep me restrained."
A long pause settles between them.
"You want me to guard you?"
"Guard them. From me. Keep me trapped in a shack and- And lock it up tight. Chain me, hurt me, knock me out, whatever you must do. Keep me from being a danger. I never wanted to be a terrifying beast, Geralt."
Jaskier says, with those damned wet doe eyes of his. Geralt agrees. Because he doesn't know a world where he wouldn't.
Mere hours later, Jaskier is sat against a beam in an old rundown barn. He's tied up with rope, and chained on top of that. There are no windows in the barn, the door is fully barricaded and locked, and Geralt guards it.
"You really should guard it from outside" Jaskier had said. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone. You never should have had to." Geralt replied.
Thus, Geralt stands and watches as Jaskier pales and starts twitching. The moon is rising.
"It's coming- I'm going to be a beast."
Jaskier says with fear, before the transformation takes the air out of his lungs. Geralt watches in horror and awe as Jaskier's body changes, changes, changes....
In...
Into a songbird?
sitting on the ground is a fat little songbird. It easily hops over the ropes and chains, now much too lose to hold it.
Him.
Oh my gods.
Jaskier's not a werewolf.
He's a... were.... werebird...
And not even a scary one.
Jaskier starts pecking the barn floor and Geralt rubs a hand over his face in exhaustion. He prepared for the worst, and instead is treated to watching Jaskier struggle to bathe in a trough.
"Jaskier, it's too deep."
He tells the bird, as it fluffs up it's wings.
"Jaskier, you're going to-"
Jaskier tries to take a step into the birdbath, only to fall, dunking his whole fat little body into the depths of the trough. He flails about in the water, chirping panickedly. Geralt rushes to his aid, gently lifting him out of the water with gentle hands.
Perhaps guarding over Jaskier will still be a challenge after all.