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the law of surprise

so i haven’t actually finished watching the witcher but i’ve read so much fic that i think i’ve heard all the spoilers by now and all i wanna do is write fic for these morons

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Geralt has saved Jaskier’s life too many times to count so, really, it comes as a bit of a shock when their roles are reversed and Jaskier, in a rare show of actual fighting prowess, takes down the kikimore Geralt had wounded before it can kill the pair of them. As it turns out, kikimore guts are the most foul things south of Nilfgaard and Jaskier promptly throws up next to a tree. 

“Why the living fuck do you subject yourself to this, Geralt?” He coughs out, peeling a string of what he thinks are entrails off his sleeve with disgust. “I could bathe for a week straight and never be rid of this stench.”

Geralt doesn’t respond but Jaskier is used to his moody silence and carries on anyway as he strips out of his ruined doublet with a mournful sigh. He really liked that doublet. 

“Honestly, with the coin I can get in these parts singing your praises, you could take a year off. Maybe hunt a couple of wolves if you really need the thrill.”

“Jaskier,” says Geralt at last but he sounds...different. 

Jaskier is used to hearing his name fall from Geralt’s lips with almost every tone in the witcher’s arsenal, usually somewhere between exasperated and disappointed. He’s never heard it like this. 

When he turns back to face his witcher, he finds Geralt still on the ground, propped up on one elbow with his other arm braced against his ribs. For a moment, panic surges through him and he drops down next to Geralt, fully expecting to see blood blossoming at an alarming rate across his shirt. But there’s nothing. And Geralt is staring at him, golden eyes boring deep into his soul. Jaskier feels a little nauseous which, this time, has nothing to do with the kikimore.

“What?” He asks warily, running through the events of the past few minutes in his mind, trying to figure out what he could possibly have done to warrant such a reaction. 

“You-” Geralt begins, breathing heavily, eyes wide. “You just- what the fuck, Jaskier?”

Jaskier frowns. “Most people would say thank you,” he huffs.

Geralt scowls. “You expect me to thank you for putting me in your debt?”

Briefly, Jaskier wonders if perhaps kikimore guts have hallucinogenic properties because he’s pretty sure he just heard Geralt suggest that he somehow owes Jaskier something when they’ve been in this exact same position hundreds of times before. Well, alright, usually Geralt was doing the saving but still. 

“What?” Jaskier asks again, feeling every bit the idiot Geralt calls him sometimes. 

“A life debt, Jaskier,” Geralt bites out, sitting up at last with fire in his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. What were you thinking?”

Jaskier rolls his eyes, trying not to feel hurt by Geralt’s apparent disgust. “Well, excuse me for not wanting you to die. Next time, I’ll just let the monster drag you to your swampy death, shall I?”

“I told you not to interfere!”

“I wasn’t going to let it kill you!” Jaskier bites back.

“You should have!”

There’s a ringing silence. Jaskier feels hollowed out as the anger drains from him.

“Geralt, I’d never,” he says quietly, inching closer, undeterred by Geralt’s seething gaze. “Not if I can do something about it.”

Geralt’s frown eases a little but doesn’t vanish. Jaskier fights down the urge to stroke the lines from his face. Given that they’re both still covered in the insides of a swamp monster, it turns out to be fleeting anyway.

“Claim it,” Geralt says then, voice soft as a summer shower.

Jaskier shakes his head. “No.”

“Please,” Geralt whispers. 

It takes a moment for Jaskier to understand. It’s not that Geralt doesn’t want to be in his debt; Geralt is afraid to be indebted to anyone. Jaskier thinks he understands. There are plenty of people in the world who would revel in having a witcher in their debt and Geralt, no doubt, met thousands of them before Jaskier was even born. He tries not to be hurt by the idea that Geralt doesn’t trust him. One day. Just not yet.

“Alright then,” he says, trying for a more cheerful tone. He doesn’t like the macabre mood that’s settled over them and he will talk until Geralt’s spirits are lifted and that is a threat. ”If you insist. I suppose we have something of a tradition to upkeep, hm. The law of surprise: give me that which you already have but do not know.”

It’s then that Geralt ducks away from him and lets out a fierce sneeze down towards the grass. Jaskier stares. 

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

[aceshineefics]

This is just a thought, but in addition to submitting ace!fics that you find, if anyone out there is a writer interested in writing an asexual character that wants to know more about the ace experience feel free to ask us questions.^^ Thanks so much for following this blog. <3