Jaskier sat on that boulder, looking out over the valley. Well. He’d never hidden his love for the grumpy witcher, sang it in songs, proclaimed it loudly. Poured it out in actions, in stitches on his body, in food in his belly and hot baths to soothe his muscles. He had done everything he could think of, until now. Now, when he asked him to take a rest, give him a chance to prove himself further. To make Geralt happy. And the witcher just walked away.
He was pretty sure that he actually heard his heart break, but he was a grown man. If Geralt wasn’t interested in his love that was okay. He’d distracted himself this long with flings and whores, he could keep it up. All he had to do was prove that he was still okay just being his friend.
Until Geralt made it clear that was unwanted, as well. So he went quiet, following the witcher down to the inn at the bottom of the mountain. Geralt got himself a room, handing Jaskier the saddle bag to take up while he ordered food. Jaskier declined an order for himself, and set up to the room. He unpacked the whole bag neatly, pulling all of his own belongings. It wasn’t much. He took a small travel bag, and packed his things neatly inside.
Then he looked at his coin purse- they’d long since just combined their funds. Some towns Geralt’s contracts paid more, others it was Jaskier’s songs that carried them. Jaskier poured it out on the table, dividing it in half and put the rest in the bottom of his bag. It would be annoying, carrying the sack and his lute, but he’d gone so long with Roach carrying his belongings it probably was only fair. He repacked Geralt’s bags the way he liked them, but left the coins on the table. Geralt had his own purse on him.
Jaskier took one last look around the room, and walked downstairs. Geralt was still in his corner, but Jaskier didn’t bother waving goodbye. He slipped across the tavern to leave only to find himself caught. Geralt had a grip on his elbow, pulling him back in. “Where are you going? I got you an ale.”
“I’m finding what pleases me, Geralt.”
“Ale pleases you, come sit down.”
“Goodbye, Geralt.” Jaskier tugged his arm free, and did not look back.
Standing on the Precipice - A03
This is my big beasty. It’s 34 Chapters right now... I think it’s going to end up being about 50. We’re getting there, slowly. --heed the tags, please--
