This came from the fleeting thought of Jaskier as Sleeping Beauty
i am currently drunk but i wrote this sober lmao
now on AO3
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Geralt had found a particularly beautiful spot to set up camp. A small clearing surrounded by bushes of bright flowers of every color with a lone cherry willow in full bloom hanging lazily over a crystal clear stream. The sky was falling into night with beautiful bursts of purple and pink and Jaskier strummed mindlessly at his lute, waiting for Geralt to get back from his hunt.
His leg was resting across his knee and he bounced his foot in time with his strumming and humming. Eventually, his humming turned into a song.
“I was following the pack,
All swallowed in their coats,
With scarves of red tied ‘round their throats.”
Jaskier sang, his voice low and coming from his throat. The color the sky was turning reminded him of the song and he felt more relaxed in this moment than he had in quite a long while.
However, Jaskier was being watched. Over the stream, peeking through a bush, were two gleaming little emerald eyes. A nymph had taken interest in Jaskier from the moment he and Geralt set up camp. She liked the way his clothes shimmered when he walked, the way his gold buttons gleamed in the sun, the way his hair was fluffy, and that he spoke sweetly to his horse. His voice was the final straw for her. Better than any songbird, more beautiful than any siren, a voice like melted gold and rabbit’s fur. She must have him, she thought. And she was about to, standing from her spot in the brush she made her way across the stream and was coming up behind Jaskier when-
Noise, movement, in the trees, a massive beast whose aura radiated danger was coming towards the nymph and her shimmering man! She couldn’t help him and she apologized to him before, with a puff of leaves, she transformed herself into a bush of hydrangeas.
The beast who radiated danger was Geralt, back from his hunt, victorious, and with two rabbits.
“And I turned ‘round and there he goes!” Jaskier greeted, continuing his song and changing the lyrics to suit his need.
“And Geralt you would fall,
And turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime!”
Geralt had a bashful smile on his lips and his cheeks burned red, Jaskier loved to see it. Big, strong, scary witcher blushing because his boyfriend mentioned him in a song. Geralt leaned down and greeted Jaskier with a kiss.
“I’ve brought rabbits.” He said, still inches away from Jaskier’s face.
“Your mouth moved but I was too lost in your eyes to hear anything.” Jaskier said. The red that warmed Geralt’s cheeks spread throughout the rest of his face and he immediately got himself out of the situation as fast as he could. Jaskier laughed and put his lute to the side, not noticing the bush behind him shake ever so slightly. Geralt did, and so did his medallion. He stared at the bush just behind Jaskier and tried to remember if it was there before. His thoughts were interpreted, however, by Jaskier leaning in front of his line of sight with a massive, dumb grin on his face.
They conversed, drank from a bottle of ale, and ate rabbit. They sat next to each other, laughed together, flirted together, kissed, and when they finally felt like it, they fell asleep in each other's arms. All the while the nymph was stuck in place, forced to watch her lover be handled by a brute, and have the audacity to reciprocate. It took all she had to keep herself from shaking with rage and setting off that witcher’s medallion. Now that they were fast asleep she was free to be rid of her disguise and move freely. She crawled forward, tentatively and quietly, hardly moving the grass under her. Furry boiled her blood as she loomed over the sleeping men. So comfortable and content her simmering man was, how softly he breathed, how gently the smile curled the corners of his lips, how dare he. She leaned down, her lips ghosting over her shimmering man’s ear. The beast man stirred in his sleep as his stupid little medallion vibrated at her presence, but he did not wake.
“Hear me.” The nymph whispered into her shimmering man’s ear. “To look with love at those so close, into his head will sleep choose a host, should lips to meet and mean the most, break the hold of life - a ghost. Come to me with hand in heart, past love leaving taste like tart, into my bosom this curse shall part.”
A breeze picked up a collection of cherry blossom petals and leaves and danced them around the nymph. With a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s temple, the Nymph disappeared in a small flurry of pink.
---
The next morning Geralt was the first to wake up, as usual. Jaskier looked to be deep in sleep, lips parted, hair falling to one side, breathing slow and shallow. Geralt cupped Jaskier’s face in his hand and gently rubbed his thumb under his cheekbone. Jaskier sniffled and whined before unconsciously leaning into the touch. Geralt watched him for a moment before sitting up and resting his arms on his knees. He looked up and appreciated the hazy orange of the morning sky before standing and getting a start on packing camp up.
He started by emptying his waterskin on the few embers that still burned in the fire. Behind him he heard Jaskier stretch and moan, a small smile crept its way onto Geralt's face at the sound without him realizing it.
“Morning.” Geralt said turning around to look at Jaskier, but instead of finding his bard angrily shielding his eyes from the sun and pouting, he found Jaskier laying back into, what looked like, another deep sleep. Geralt blinked a few times at Jaskier, a bit confused, but continued what he was doing.
Gathering up Roach’s tack he called her in from where she was grazing. Behind him, Jaskier stretched and moaned again, Geralt raised an eyebrow at the sound and half looked over his shoulder. More towards Jaskier than actually looking at him.
“Finally awake?” He asked. Jaskier moaned his response, Geralt huffed a laugh and got to work dressing Roach in her tack.
“M’head feels all…” Jaskier waved his hands in front of him to indicate what his head was feeling. His head felt entrapped by a thick fog that was just now dispersing. He had been woken from a deep sleep so suddenly it felt like someone had snatched a heady blanket off of him. He closed his eyes hard for a moment before blinking a few times and taking in his surroundings.
“I had the strangest dream last night.” He said, rubbing his ear. Geralt turned to look at Jaskier and saw him start to fall backward but was fast enough to catch him before he was able to hit his head on the hard ground. Geralt’s medallion vibrated so strongly it bounced off of his chest at Jaskier’s presence. His heart and mind raced, what the hell did this mean? What was happening to Jaskier?
“Jaskier.” Geralt said, shaking him, but to no response. “Jaskier.” He repeated shaking a bit harder with, again, no response. Geralt gripped Jaskier’s jaw and studied his face, looking for any sign of distress and or an answer. There, on his temple, the faintest mark of a kiss, hardly noticeable to even a witcher but still there nonetheless. Whatever left the kiss must be the one doing… this - must be causing this. Geralt looked up to Roach, who was equally confused, and Jaskier stirred awake in his arms.
“Mmm, fuck.” He mumbled, he rolled his head in movement with his eyes and blinked a few times at the situation he seemed to be in before looking at Geralt. “Hello.” He said with a smile. Geralt had caught on to the spell though and kept his eyes on Roach. Jaskier sat himself up and touched Geralt’s chin with his fingertips. The pressure told Geralt to move his head, the resistance against his fingers told Jaskier he didn’t want to. With a concerned look, Jaskier searched the forest in the direction Geralt was looking.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, sinking a little closer to his wall of witcher protection. Geralt hummed and sighed, pressing his hand to Jaskier’s back in case he fell again.
“Something cast a spell on you last night.” Geralt said, fully expecting Jaskier to fall back asleep when he talked but relieved he didn’t.
“What?” Jaskier said, leaning away and patting down his chest and legs, looking for a mark or bruise or some form of sign that there was indeed a spell on him. “How? When? Who-”
“I don't know.” Geralt interrupted, standing and going back to packing up the camp, faster now though.
“I don't feel any different.” Jaskier said, standing and moving towards Geralt. Sure his head was a bit foggy but he had just woken up was all. Before he could get too close Geralt held his hand out behind him to stop Jaskier. Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders slumped, and face pouting. Geralt wasn’t looking at him, it was weird and he didn’t like it. Sure Geralt wasn’t the best at eye contact but Jaskier still liked being able to look at his face when they talked, looking into his eyes even if he didn’t always look into Jaskier’s. Now he wasn’t even turning his head in Jaskier’s direction and it was like they were back in their first year together. Back when Jaskier would hold conversations with the back of Geralt’s head and do his best to survive nine months of touch starvation.
“Geralt please,” He begged, following the back of Geralt’s head as he collected the remaining parts of camp. “What’s going on?”
“Do you not remember?” Geralt asked as he rolled the bedrolls together, lifting his head and only turning it slightly towards Jaskier’s direction.
“Well obviously not otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you.” he said, temper rising, not out of anger but out of fear. Geralt stood and held his hand to his face to avoid Jaskier, receiving an angry huff in return and stamping feet following him to Roach.
“You’ve fallen asleep three times this morning.” Geralt said, attaching the rolls to Roach’s saddle.
“So? I've done that before Geralt - mornings are not my thing - you know that. It doesn’t mean I've got a hex on me!”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
“Like this.” Geralt turned and faced Jaskier, but nothing happened. Jaskier stood, hands on his hips and a pout on his face unamused by Geralt’s little… whatever this was. Jaskier shrugged and held his hands out, gesturing at the nothing that had happened.
“Like what?” He asked. Geralt looked Jaskier up and down, He looked fine, sturdy on his feet, awake, not even looking the least bit drowsy. He stepped closer, slowly, hesitantly, holding his arms out ready to catch Jaskier should he fall. Jaskier dropped his arms and rolled his head back in both annoyance and relief that things were fine.
“Geralt, dear heart,” He said, moving his head back down to look at Geralt. The concern he showed was sweet and Jaskier welcomed him forward when they finally met, wrapping the witcher’s hands around his waist. Jaskier closed his eyes and shook his head, really, a spell cast on him in the middle of the night right under a witcher's nose? Unbeliv-
Like a light he was out again, dropping like a sack of flour in Geralt’s prepared arms.
“Like that.” Geralt grumbled. So his theory that Jaskier would sleep if Geralt looked at him was wrong. Geralt looked up at the sky, testing his second theory that when he looked away from Jaskier he would wake back up. Sure enough, Jaskier stirred awake in his arms, head groggy, eyes blurry, very confused.
“What happened?” He asked, steadying himself on Geralt till he could stand on his own.
“You fell asleep.” Geralt said, still looking at the sky. Jaskier stopped and thought. He… well he certainly felt like he had just woken up, remembered being awake a moment ago… He looked with concern at the bottom of Geralt’s chin. “What’s happening to me?” He asked. Geralt pulled Jaskier in and rested his chin on Jaskier’s head.
“I don't know,” He admitted. “But I'm going to find out.”
Jaskier is curious about what kinds of emotions Witchers do or do not have.
For @loveyprophet
The bar was lit by the warm glow of the overhead lights, the withered grain of the thick wooden walls gave the space a rustic and welcoming feeling. The heavy mahogany benchtop of the bar ran along one wall, stained by the years of drinks that had rested or been spilt over it. The wall behind it was lined with wooden shelves, bottles of alcohol and wooden barrels lying on their sides, spouts piercing the lids so that the barkeep could pour drinks.
Several tables were set up around the room, wooden booths lining the walls and stools lined up under the bar.
Groups of people sat in nearby, filling the building with raucous chatter.
Jaskier picked up the two tankards of larger the barman passed to him, carrying them over to the booth in the corner where Geralt sat, clouded in darkness and brooding.
He set the drinks down on the table and slid into the seat across from Geralt.
The Witcher glowered at him.
Jaskier waited for Geralt to tell him to leave, to growl at him or threaten him, but the man said nothing.
Geralt took the tankard and downed the drink.
"Is it true Witcher's mutations stop them from feeling any emotions other than bestial ones?" Jaskier asked.
Geralt didn't answer.
"Anger is a given, but have you never felt joy?"
"Once," Geralt answered.
"Oh?"
"When the elves broke your lyre. The thought of never having to hear you sing again brought me immeasurable joy."
"I'm trying to have a civilised conversation here,” Jaskier said, struggling to hide his offence. “Can you not bring my singing into it?"
Geralt levelled him with an exasperated look.
“Have you ever felt sadness?”
Geralt dropped his gaze.
He lifted his drink to his mouth, hiding his face behind the tankard.
“Envy?” Jaskier continued, phishing for answers. “Disgust? Surprise? Guilt?”
Geralt stayed silent.
"What about desire?" Jaskier asked.
A hint of a smirk played at the corner of Geralt's mouth.
"Other than that of carnal pleasure," Jaskier corrected himself.
Geralt didn't answer.
"And what of love?"
Geralt met his gaze.
"Once," he answered.
"Not lust, love," Jaskier emphasised.
Geralt nodded.
Jaskier leant forward on the table, intrigued. “Did they love you back?”
“I’m not sure,” Geralt answered.
"How did it end?" Jaskier asked.
Geralt’s gaze didn’t waver. "It hasn't yet."
"Does she have a name?"
"He does."
Jaskier blinked in surprise. "Oh."
Geralt raised his brow.
It took a second for it to sink in. A wave of realisation washed over Jaskier's face. "Oh."
Geralt rolled his eyes.
"Well," Jaskier started slowly. "I... I feel the same."
