Would you be interested in writing a Jaskier x Reader where the reader is in the middle of a nightmare? Her yells wake Jaskier up and he tries to wake her and finally he comforts her because she's a bit of a blubbering mess while she comes down off of her nightmare scare. Thank you!
yes amazing thank u anon dearest im here for this !!
At first, Jaskier thinks he's having a nightmare. A haunting, shadowy sort of nightmare that's burrowed into his mind and is overriding all his senses: you're screaming, in pain, and there's nothing he can do. His muscles are wound up so tightly they might snap, and they grow louder and louder, into a full crescendo...
And then he wakes, bleary-eyed and slightly confused, the fire outside almost blown to its embers. His jaw aches.
It's not the dim lighting that reveals anything, though. It's that your screams haven't disappeared, despite his certain consciousness: it's like a Kikimora has clawed at his heart, long, sharp claws tearing him to shreds.
He instantly turns to you, catches the beads of sweat glistening on your temple, the crumpled blankets in your fists that he almost feels sympathy for. Every now and then, your whimpers morph into a more desperate cry, a call for help, that Jaskier believes was much louder when he was asleep.
His blanket scrunches into a log by his feet as he scrambles across to you, hands hovering over your shoulders because he's heard that you shouldn't wake up someone having a nightmare. Or is that sleepwalking?
Another cry slices into his heart and he's had enough. He puts a hand to the side of your neck, and one on your shoulder, squeezing lightly and whispering your name. Over and over, like a spell that will pull you back to him and away from whatever hell is flashing behind your eyelids.
His hand on your neck migrates to your cheek, thumb pushing into the flesh and gently massaging: the face is more sensitive, you must be more likely to wake.
Your eyebrows knit together, unhappy wrinkles settling into your forehead as the frightened whimpers return. Jaskier doesn't know what to do, afloat in an ocean subject to a storm, and is about to find Geralt for a potion when--
A strangled gasp interrupts the previous rhythm of sounds, and your wide eyes meets Jaskier's, your hand flying to grip his wrist. Jaskier wants to utter something like a hallelujah, but the thought escapes him when your breaths sound full of pebbles, and fat, hot tears emerge from the corner of your eyes and fall past your temples.
There's hardly a hint of recognition behind your eyes, but with a hand cupping the back of your head and one on your shoulder, he hauls you upright and sits you against something hard. Your shoulders shake and you cover your face with your hands.
Your nightmare rewinds in the heat behind your eyes, seared into your mind's eye. The darkness provides no comfort, your hideout in your hands holding a toffee-like heat, dripping through your fingers and trapping any oxygen from coming through.
Through the sticky heat of your hands comes a voice, a familiar voice that melts away some panic, enough for the light to seep into the gap. You hear your name, and drag your hands from covering your entire face to just your mouth.
You're met with Jaskier's loving eyes, his eyebrows threatening to cross. His hand is on your knee, thumb swiping along your patella, as he looks for an opening.
"Oh, darling," he whispers. "It's gone now, see?" He gestures around the both of you. Sure enough, nothing from your nightmare is anywhere in sight. Just you and Jaskier. And somewhere else, Geralt, probably.
"It's just us here. You and me. Oh, please don't cry," he shuffles next to you, pulling you into his chest. You grip the soft fabric of his shirt tightly, as if he's going to slip away the moment you let him go, and you'll be dragged into the depths of your tortured mind once again.
"I'll fight it. Whatever it was, I'll get rid of it," he says in a low voice. "Better yet, I'll set my guard dog on the monster. Geralt's had a lot of practice." Your soft sobs are interrupted by a hiccup of a giggle, and Jaskier begins to relax.
"There she is," Jaskier's glad when you've let it all out, two hands on your face to really look at you. You offer a small, tired smile, and he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. When he releases you, you sit as close to him as possible, arms overlapping.
"Bad dreams can be a real ball ache," he says lightly. You hum in agreement, still shaken.
"Thanks for waking me," you say leaning on his shoulder. He grabs your hand and squeezes tightly.
"Always. Will you be okay to sleep soon?" He asks.
"Soon," you nod. "Not yet, I think," you inhale deeply. "Can I stay with you? It's fine if not, I just--"
"Of course you can," Jaskier interrupts, kissing the back of your hand firmly and lingering. His breath skips across your skin, and you feel grounded.
a/n: i am feeling very rusty at writing - it has certainly been awhile! grammarly told me this sounded sad and nervous sooo, enjoy!?
;
It’s late into the night that he finally falls into bed next to you, the undertones of another women’s perfume making the usual, “welcome home” catch in your throat.
After all, there was a time when you’d merely been just another woman to Jaskier.
“Sweetheart,” he greets, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead and you let him, as you always do.
But when your eyes settle on the reddened lip stain right there on his cheek, he quickly props himself up on his elbow, studying the way your eyebrows have pulled together
It’s becoming the expression he knows you only wear when you’re exasperated with him. Most of the time it’s worn hand in hand with love. This time, he notices the slight glare in your eye.
Eventually, after a pause, he gestures toward his cheek with a flourish, “ohhhh, my adoring crowd.” he notes with a chuckle
And while you know, it was likely a harmless, middle of a song act, you feel that connection waver. For a moment, you think about biting your tongue and saying nothing.
“One person’s love will never be enough for you, will it? You’ll only be satisfied when you have the love of every lady on the continent.” It comes out a little snappier than intended, and you roll over before you catch the confused and slightly hurt, look on his face.
“Hey, I’m here now.” he tries eventually, and you feel his arm wrap around your waist as he gets more comfortable beside you.
“Well, I’m here loving you with everything I have, and it’ll still never be enough. Will it?”
He stammers something you don’t quite catch under his breath and pulls you in a little closer.
You sigh, and the feeling of him next to you softens your frustration. Because while it hurts, more than you’d like to admit, you can never ignore that you’re lucky to be one of the people that gets to feel his love at all.
“I’ll always love you more,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “I could lose all of it tomorrow, and I’d still be okay because I would have you.”
He’s speaking genuinely and it makes you pause, heartbeat in your ears.
Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes meet and his flicker down to your lips. Before he can catch you in a kiss, you say, “I just worry.”
This makes him pause, and he looks like he doesn’t quite know what to say. He doesn’t know how to put it into words, how much he loves you.
That you mean more to him than he could ever express in a line, or an entire song.
“You are the only thing that matters in my life, the one person I love, and I can promise you that, “he settles on eventually, feeling like his words fall slightly short.
For someone who shouts his love for everyone to hear, sometimes you find it comes in more subtle forms where it’s less about telling the entire continent, and more about making sure you simply hear his words.
“Your open heart is both your blessing and your curse, Jaskier.”
You do love him
And sometimes that love just isn’t a thing of poetry.
Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!
Bruin
jaskier x reader
masterlist
Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut
“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”
“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”
“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”
“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.
Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.
The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.
A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”
“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”
“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”
“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.
“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”
“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.
“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”
“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”
The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.
“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“
“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.
“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”
“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”
“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...
“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.
“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“
“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”
“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”
“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.
"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.
"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”
“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.
"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"
"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."
The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.
"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."
"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.
The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"
A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."
And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.
Summary: At Pavetta’s betrothal feast, Jaskier meets a famous dancer. Little they know, destiny has plans not only for the princess and her knight.
Pairing: Jaskier x Reader;
Word Count: 2k;
Warning: None;
A/N: Here is my first Witcher fic ‘cause I’m obsessed and with Jaskier ‘cause he his my favorite. I’ll probably write a part 2 so stay tuned! I hope you’ll like it and feedback is always appreciated! Love you all xoxo.
Adjusting the fabric of your dress for the umpteenth time you looked again at your reflection in the mirror. The room you stayed in wasn’t quite warm, yet you could feel your palms sweat with nervousness. It was unusual for you to feel tense before a performance, especially because you felt confident most of the time, but that night was different. Completely different.
Being a dancer could be stressful sometimes, mostly because of the expectations put on you: everything had to be perfect, your look, your performance, the audience had to be pleased. Your life was a constant wandering around the cities to find a place where you could perform and where they could also pay you.
Fortunately, you built your reputation quite easily and quickly became one of the most skilled and appreciated dancer around the Continent.
Surely you had worked with important and illustrious people in different cities but you never ended up in a castle. That was until one morning. You could never forget the moment when you received an invitation letter, held in a neat, creamy envelope, sent directly from Cintra. Your name was spelled with a beautiful, sophisticated handwriting, you had never received something like that before. With excitement sparkling in your eyes, you carefully but urgently opened the package and read the content.
Apparently Queen Calanthe’s daughter, Pavetta, was already old enough to tie the knot with some young, and probably inexperienced, prince who would assure a powerful and convenient alliance between the two kingdoms. Nevertheless, that was none of your business. What was really important, and what almost made you gasp in astonishment, was that you were personally requested to perform to Princess Pavetta’s betrothal feast. You felt beyond grateful and honored to say the least.
Few days later, there you were, in Cintra’s palace, ready to perform in front of many noble men and women, and of course, in front of the royal family: that’s something that happens once in a lifetime, hence you forgave yourself for being a little nervous after all.
Taking a look at the mirror again you frowned. Something is missing, you thought, when suddenly you remembered: your earrings. Your old, thick, golden hoops. They were out-dated, a little ruined and probably old-fashioned, but you couldn’t care less: they were gifted to you many years ago, it was a dear memory of your past and you’d never let go of them. They became a sort of lucky charm. Glaring at your nightstand you quickly grabbed them and put them on.
“Let’s do this” you said before exhaling sharply.
“Geraaaalt”
The witcher had lost count of how many times he had rolled his eyes that day, or how many times that bard had called him out.
“What is it now?” he grumbled.
“I think another jealous boyfriend, husband, or whatever, is coming for me” said the bard with a hectic tone, trying to hide behind the witcher.
Unable to suppress a smirk, Geralt turned his head behind his shoulders were Jaskier now stood.
“I thought the ‘eunuch’ story was quite fun”
“Maybe for you Geralt!”
The man who quickly marched towards the bard with an inscrutable glare on his face finally reached his destination but it was firstly faced with the witcher, who folded his arms over his chest.
“Excuse me I need to talk to the man behind you” he said, with a surprisingly calm tone. His features seemed pretty relaxed for someone who was going to rant about his unfaithful wife and his lover.
“You are probably mistaken sir, as you probably should already know I had an accident many years ago, I don’t know anything about your wife-”
The witcher chuckled at the man’s puzzled expression.
“Master Jaskier, I was only trying to inform you that if you were ready you could start perform”
Jaskier’s lips curled into an “o”, in both embarrassment and relief “Oh- I- Yes, yes of course” he stuttered while grabbing his lute really quickly, earning another chuckle from Geralt.
Undoubtedly, Jaskier was a highly acclaimed musician: his ballads were famous all around the different kingdoms, in fact, it was hardly surprising that as soon as he reached the center of the room, all the noble drunk guests started cheering, ready to sing their hearts out.
The bard started playing the lute with ease, his fingers gracefully but steadily moved up and down the strings creating a beautiful melody. Then his voice, which was soon accompanied by the guests’ voice and by their feet stomping under the tables, following the rhythm.
When Jaskier performance eventually came to an end, he humbly bowed several times toward the audience, who started applauding cheerfully.
Heading toward Geralt, Jaskier sighed with a proud smile on his face.
“I think they liked it” the witcher said with his baritone voice. He would never admitted but Jaskier noticed an expression of contentment on the witcher’s face.
“Of course they did!” he exclaimed with a bright smile “And you did too, I can see it”
“Shut up, Jaskier”
“Come on, be honest”
“Don’t even start this”
“I can see it in your face Gera-” Jaskier voice stopped when he heard a voice announcing the next performance.
A dancer. And not just any dancer.
“Y/n?” Geralt suddenly asked “Do you know her?”
“I’ve heard her name before, but I never meet her in person.” he responded, his curiosity growing as time went by.
“Oh bard prepare yourself” an old man beside them suddenly spoke, earning both the bard and the witcher’s attention “She is also known as ‘The dancer with golden earrings’. I’ve seen her before, performing and she’s one of a kind.”
Jaskier and Geralt attentively listened to him until their attention was caught by a figure entering the room, followed by a big round of applause.
The dancer firstly bowed respectfully to Queen Calanthe and the other royal family members, before giving a small nod toward the musicians, letting them know she were ready to start.
The feast was pretty noisy for most of the time during the night, voices, drunk shouts and singing would fill the room, whether it was for gossiping or to take advantage of the noise and talk about political stuff. However when the dancer appeared, all voices suddenly quieted and the music slowly started playing.
Initially Jaskier could only see her back, her hair, the voluminous floor-length dress, fabulously tight around her waist, her exposed arms, but couldn’t see her face. Everyone in the room had eyes only for her and when she finally turned around during her performance, Jaskier knew why.
Geralt looked out of the corner of his eye and saw the bard completely captivated by her and he couldn’t hold back a silent chuckle. Jaskier, however, didn’t even notice the witcher’s reaction: he had eyes only for her. Every movement she made was controlled but at the same time soft and elegant, showing impeccable discipline and mastery. The bard watched, almost hypnotized, as she approached the tables and moved around the room following the music’s rhythm. On her face was drawn the brightest smile he had ever seen, the candles’ light reflected on her golden earrings making her shine even more. If it’s even possible, Jaskier thought.
He was far too captivated by the swirl of colors made by her dress while she danced to notice how close she was. The driving rhythm of the drums and instruments made everyone start clapping cheerfully while she moved around. Jaskier’s heart almost came to a stop when she passed in front of him. Your eyes locked on each other’s for an instant.
Reaching the center of the room again, you took the hem of the dress in one hand, exposing a little of your right leg under hundred pleased glances. The music eventually came to an end and as soon as you finished, all the guests in the room and even Queen Calanthe started applauding.
Your heart was pounding in your chest for the excitement: the audience was thrilled by your dance and you couldn’t be happier.
“What did I tell you boys?” the old man beside the bard and the witcher commented snickering.
Jaskier simply nodded slowly, his features relaxed in awe.
Geralt turned his head to him, expecting a comment or a rant from the bard, who instead kept looking at the dancer.
“You are uncharacteristically silent Jaskier, I’m starting to worry” Geralt commented.
“Shut up Geralt” grumbled the bard.
After her performance, the voices of the guests started resonating again around the room along with glass clinking and plates being emptied.
Jaskier and Geralt were bickering again when out of the corner of their eyes they saw you approaching and instantly turned toward you.
“Master Jaskier?” you asked with a bright smile.
“Y-yes, Y/n? Right?” Jaskier stuttered.
You nodded “And your companion?”
“Geralt of Rivia” he introduced himself.
“It’s a pleasure” you smiled and turned your attention to the bard again “I’ve heard many of your ballads before but never had the chance to meet you in person. Your works are incredible”
“You are flattering me, Y/n. Actually I-” he didn’t had the time to finish because you were reluctantly taken away by some noble men who wanted to have a chat with you.
Jaskier watched as you were taken away, sighing sadly “Oh come on!”
“Here have a drink” Geralt handed him a cup full of wine, which the bard gladly took.
If you thought being at Queen Calanthe’s castle to perform was the only unusual thing that night, you were surely mistaken. Firstly, from nowhere appeared Urcheon of Erlenwald, who demanded Pavetta’s hand through the Law of Surprise. Calanthe obviously refused and in an escalation of violence Geralt, the witcher, saved him but what happened next left anyone speechless. Pavetta activated some kind of power, unleashing a maelstrom upon the castle, and now there you were trying to not get hit by some flying pitcher, or worse. The wind storm was strong enough to not let you stand up so you had to cover yourself on a wing and a prayer.
The wind was getting stronger and stronger as you felt debris hitting your skin, when suddenly you felt two hands on your shoulders.
“Follow me” the voice said. You lifted your head up to meet two deep blue eyes looking down at you.
Dodging debris coming from everywhere you noticed the princess and the knight floating mid-air completely clueless about what was happening down.
The man took your hand and placed you behind a large table which was knocked over on the floor. Without the wind in your eyes you could finally see him.
The bard, Jaskier.
The castle began to tremble under your feet, you didn’t know how much it would resist anymore, when suddenly the wind dissipated and the couple who was floating met the ground.
“Geralt!” Jaskier murmured. Geralt and Mousesack stopped her. The bard then turned to you and grabbed one of your shoulders and scanned your face.
“Are you ok?” he asked glaring down at you.
“Yes, I think. Thanks for helping me Jaskier” you said trying to find scratches or little wounds.
“I hope to have earned a minute of your time to introduce myself properly” he smiled.
You laughed “Of course”
Everyone was safe. Princess Pavetta was betrothed to Urcheon of Erlenwald as she wished and Calanthe accepted what destiny had chosen. You spent the rest of the night talking with Jaskier on a balcony, away from the feast. Both of you immediately find yourselves having so much in common, first thing first, music. He talked about his ballads and you described what was the perfect dance to go with them, according to you. You wished dawn would never come, you wished you could stay there again and again, just talking about your passions, and even if you didn’t know, Jaskier wished for the same things.
However the next morning you would have left. Another city, another audience to find.
But destiny had another plan for you. Destiny in that case, wore a pastel blue doublet and played the lute.
“So what is your next stop Y/n?”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably head east.” you said looking right in front of you in the pitch black forest that surrounded the palace, a hint of sadness in your voice.
Jaskier stared at you, unsure to ask the next question.
“Come with us” Come with me, he thought.
You turned your head toward him, surprised by his question.
“You know, it’s said there are monsters that inhabit these parts of the kingdom, so you won’t travel alone”
You kept looking at him with surprise written all over your face. Jaskier thought he had gone to far by now.
“I mean, if it’s what you wan-” he stuttered.
“Jaskier, it would be a pleasure for me” you smiled.
Sighing in relief he reciprocated the smile as his heart started pounding in his chest, and even if he didn’t know, yours did the same.
Hi! :) Please, can you write something about jealous Jaskier x reader? :) thank you, you are amazing
Awww, thanks! You’re amazing! And I hope you like this! It kinda turned into more insecure Jaskier than jealous Jaskier, but there are definitely jealousy elements there too! Thanks for submitting such a wonderful prompt, I kinda got carried away, turns out I really like writing for Jas!
You and Jaskier have been friends forever, you practically grew up together. He lived across the street in the tiny village where you met. Neither of you quite felt like you belonged, with the drunks and the farmers, you both had very different interests. You had always admired magic. Or at least the magic that you read about in books. Jaskier wanted to play the lute before he could even pronounce it.
Nobody else understood nor fostered the desire in your young minds, nobody except each other. You worked at the nasty little pub on the other side of town to save up enough money to buy him a lute and when you gave it to him, he almost cried. You carved the two of your initials into the back and he carries it with him to this day.
You’ve tried to get him a new one, but he refuses. He still plays it, despite it being out of tune with the slightest temperature change. He and that lute are inseparable, just like the two of you.
You’ve definitely come far in the last twenty-odd years. You’re a skilled witch and Jaskier? He’s played everywhere from palaces to pubs and has become rather renowned. Every time you look at him, you feel a sense of pride growing in your chest. You always knew he could do it, he’s got a spirit that just won’t be silenced.
Similar to him. He won’t be silenced. He won’t shut up. Ever. You find it endearing. Geralt, the Witcher you two have been traveling with for ages, he very much does not.
Right now, in particular. He’s going on and on about his latest performance, not even close to the most impressive audience he’s had, but that’s not what it’s about for him. He loves playing, whether it’s for kings and queens or just for you and Geralt. Usually, you listened intently, commenting on what he spoke of. But right now? You’re in the same boat as Geralt.
You and the Witcher just expended practically all of your energy fighting a doppler that was reigning terror on that same small town at which he performed. You can tell Geralt is about to snap, and honestly, you’re not far behind him. You don’t have it in you to calm him down so you just let what will be, be.
For how much Jaskier, god bless his heart, frustrates Geralt, the two of you are surprisingly close. You’re his partner in battle and the two of you have learned how to fight seamlessly. Your first priority is always making sure Jaskier is at a safe distance, watching the two of you because there’s nothing you can do that will keep him from that. He needs material, of course.
You’re really surprised Geralt doesn’t go off on Jaskier on the way to the inn. He doesn’t say anything at all, actually. Which isn’t unusual, but you can sense how exhausted he is, more than usual. Dopplers really take it out of you both, in this case especially. The creature shifted to look like you, and he knew that. He knew it wasn’t you, but stabbing something that looks like one of his closest friends in the heart isn’t exactly at the top of his to-do list.
Geralt seemed to be keeping a closer eye on you than usual, and as you walk in to ask for two rooms, you place your hand on his arm in a, hopefully, comforting gesture. You see him smile and feel his demeanor calm slightly but you can practically feel the glare Jaskier is shooting the two of you. Quite frankly, though, Jaskier is fine. He’s not injured. He’s not tired. He’s fine. Geralt is not fine.
Jaskier goes down to perform for the patrons in the pub below your rooms one last time and you take it as an opportunity to spend some time with and heal Geralt. You and Jaskier usually stay in the same room for money’s sake, but Geralt likes his privacy so he gets a separate room. You understand completely, but you don’t think he should be alone right now.
When you knock on his door, you hear a grunt in response and you take that as permission to come in.
“Hey, how are you doing?” you ask, voice quiet.
“Alive” is the only response you get. You snort though, a short answer, yet one that sums up what the two of you experienced very well. At that, he looks up and his face softens.
“You mind if I help you out?” you say, holding your hands up, already brimming with energy to stitch his wounds. He gestures you over and you get to work.
You don’t know how long you’re there, healing him and also just talking. Talking about life, about your lives, your future, and even Jaskier at some points. Whenever you bring him up, Geralt gets this look on his face. You can’t exactly place it, but he smiles. He smiles more than usual when you talk about Jaskier and honestly, it’s freaking you out a little bit.
You don’t realize how long you’ve been there until you find yourself stifling a yawn and Geralt telling you to go back to your room to get some sleep, who knows how early you’ll have to be up tomorrow.
You walk out of his room and creep into your own, afraid of waking the bard you know and love so much. Upon entering, you realize your attempts are in vain because Jaskier is still awake, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, and picking out a rather melancholic tune. And like that, you’re worried. You didn’t think he got hurt at the fight, you made sure he was on the other side of the field, right? You instantly start replaying the evening’s events in your head, unable to figure out what went wrong.
As if he can sense your concern, he puts his lute down and just looks at you. You’re at a loss for words. When you’re at a loss for words, he’s usually got them, but he’s silent. The lute is beside him and you can see him rubbing his thumb over your faded initials. That’s when it clicks.
“Jas, what’s wrong? Talk to me, darling.” You see him tense at the term of affection, not unusual for the two of you. You move over to sit next to him, on the other side of his prized possession, reaching out to feel his initials you carved so many years ago.
You see him look down, still silent. You move your hand from the lute to grab his and you hear him let out a breath. You begin to stroke the back of his hand with your thumb and that’s when he finally looks up to meet your eyes. You nod encouragingly.
“I just… I don’t want to lose you, but I also don’t want to hold you back,” and suddenly you’re confused again.
“You what? Why would you think that? What happened? You’re never going to lose me if I can help it”
“And that’s the problem!” he exclaims. Your brow furrows, only further signaling to him your confusion. “What if you’re better off without me? With Geralt? He can actually protect you! He’s big and he’s strong and he’s tough and he’s dangerous” and Jaskier is out of breath. He pauses to gather his thoughts. “And he’s everything that I’m not. And seeing you spend so much time with him, seeing you fight alongside him and heal him, seeing you make him smile like nobody else does. Just. I just. You should be with him, I should let you two be and stop getting in the way.”
You’re frozen. Your brain isn’t working as fast as it should to process his confession. He takes your silence as a means to escape and gets up to go, but you grab his arm and gently lower him back down.
“No. Jas, just, no. None of that is. Even close to the truth. I’m sorry that I’ve treated you in such a way that has led you to that conclusion, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.” You’re still trying to take his words to heart, and the more you do, the more it breaks. “One of the reasons that I do love you so much is because you aren’t any of those things. You’re something even greater, you’re you. You’re just. You’re fucking magic, Jaskier. You’re passionate but calm. You’re talkative but so goddamn intelligent. Now, Geralt is one of my dearest friends, but I need. Not. That. Our lives are already gruesome enough, you’re the light at the end of the bloodshed, my love.”
As you talk, you see a smile begin to spread across his face. His beautiful fucking face. You laugh out loud at that thought, he is beautiful, why had you never noticed until now? He laughs back, the light returning to his eyes.
“You’re my everything, Jas. And you have been since even before I gave you that stupid lute.”
“Hey now,” he says, feigning defensiveness as he pulls the lute to his lap to cuddle it. That only makes you laugh even harder. He really is your light. Nobody makes you laugh like him. Nobody makes you feel the way he makes you feel. Nobody… oh shit. You love him. You fucking love him. And you have for so long.
You move the lute from his lap and pull him into a bone-crushing hug, face in his neck.
“I love you. I love you so much. You’re not losing me, you’re not holding me back. You’re keeping me going. Okay?” You pull away and see the tears brimming his eyes. One falls and you reach up to wipe it away, keeping your hand on his cheek.
You feel him move in and meet him in the middle. Your lips touch his and suddenly everything you hadn’t known you’d wanted for so long is finally yours. You feel the wetness of his tears intermingling with yours and you feel complete.
Congratulations on 400 followers!! Can I request “Telling them you’re pregnant!” with Jaskier x reader please? Thanks so much! 💜
Thank you much nonnie! This one was super fun to write, I think I’m still gagging on the fluff.
Prompt 1: Telling them you’re pregnant
Pairing: Jaskier x fem!reader
Summary: You just found out you’re pregnant and want to surprise your husband.
400 Follower Celebration
Taglist
A/N. I had two requests for this prompt, so I will just leave the one here!
The Wooden Box
You waited for Jaskier to get home, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. You glanced at the small wooden box sitting on the table next to you, anxious for your husband to see it. You had just gotten back from seeing Yennefer, having grown closer with the mage once peace had settled over the continent. She had confirmed your suspicion after you noticed your cycle was several weeks late, a brilliant smile coming over her face as she congratulated you.
“I’m home, dear heart! Did you miss me?” You jumped as you heard your husband’s voice followed by the sound of a door closing behind him. You stood as he came into the room, stepping in front of the table you had set the box on. Jaskier immediately sensed that something was off when he saw you twisting your hands, the smile sliding off his face as he rushed to grab your hands.
“Is everything okay, my love? What’s wrong?” Tears came to your eyes at his concern as the knot that had slowly grown in your chest since Yennefer had given you the news unraveled. All that was left was excitement and happiness, you were looking forward to this new stage in your lives. You smiled at him, squeezing his hands.
“Everything’s wondering, Jask. I just have something for you.” Gently pulling your hands out of his grasp, you turned to grab the box from the table, watching as curiosity came over his face at the sight. You handed it to him, watching his eyes light up in anticipation. He slowly moved to the couch in your living space, setting the box on the low table in front of him. You nestled yourself into his side, wrapping your arms around his waist as he lifted the lid.
Inside was a bundle of fabric covering other objects. Jaskier lifted the cloth, eyes widening as it opened, a baby jumper with the words ‘Papa’s favourite’ on the front. He looked down at you, astonishment on his face. You squeezed his waist tightly, a small smile breaking onto your face.
“Keep going,” you urged him. He looked back into the box, picking up the next item you had put in. He reverently drew out a child sized instrument, the words ‘Baby’s First Lute’ engraved into the wood. He rifled through the rest of the objects, finding a variety of baby themed items. He gently placed the lute back on the table, turning to you with tears in his eyes.
“Are you…” he trailed off, words soft as his voice broke, wonderment clear in the tone. You nodded as grinned, hands going to your stomach. He grabbed for you, kissing you hard before drawing back, hands resting on top of yours.
“Y/N, I can’t believe it. Are you sure?” You could hear the pleading in his voice, see the hope on his face. A tear leaked out of your eye as you nodded, Jaskier gently wiping it away with his thumb.
“Yen confirmed it this morning.” You were suddenly pressed against a hard chest, arms gripping you tightly as kisses were peppered over your face and neck.
“You. Are. The. Most. Amazing. Woman. In. The. World.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss, leaving you a giggling and writhing mess as Jaskier pulled you into his lap. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find you, I have the best partner in the entire world.”
You squeaked as you found yourself picked up, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “And now, we celebrate.”
You kissed him hard before pulling back to laugh as he growled, carrying you towards the bedroom where he held you captive for the rest of the night.
Notes: First of all ^ not my gif. Some heartbreak in this one.... okay...lots of it.
Summary: You meet Geralt and Jaskier while you were after the same monster for coin. Soon you find yourself falling for the bard but he seems to be oblivious to that. You have killed many monsters to survive. One monster seems to be too strong to beat. The Green Eyed Monster.
Outside it was colder than you had thought. You rubbed your arms as you went to sit on a wooden bench closeby. Clouds hid most of the stars and the grass was still wet from the rain. Your surroundings seemed to match your mood tonight.
You groaned and let your head fall in your palms in frustration. Frustration aimed at yourself.
There was a pit in your stomach, one that had formed long before you had seen the flirting women around Jaskier.
Yennefer was the first to see what was going on. And when she realised you, someone who killed monsters, had fallen for the clumsy bard she had trouble hiding the look of disgust on her face. But she smiled, with effort. Geralt seemed to be as oblivious to your growing feelings as Jaskier was. Something you were actually gratefull for as with Yennefer knowing, she made a comment here and there during the time you spend as a group. In one instance Jaskier had been playing the lute again one evening as he sat not far from you around the fire, once again singing a song that drew you in and you couldn't help but think how handsome he looked with only the moonlight and the glow from the fire illuminating him. As he sang he often leaned closer in your direction and when he caught your eye, he winked and smiled broadly. If only he knew the affect he had on you..
You snapped your eyes away from him and focused on the little sparks coming from the fire.
Right after he had stopped you had moved closer to the fire as the evening was chilly. Yennefer had casually commented “Cold, y/n ? By the redness of your cheeks, I would've believed you to be quite warm.”
Geralt didn't engage in the conversation and instead focused on his food, he stopped chewing for a blink second before continueing.
Your eyes threw daggers at Yennefer and she completely ignored it.
You felt Jaskier look at you and you gulped “You do look a bit red, did you eat something different ? You might be allergic.” he said.
He made a circling motion in front of your face with his hand and you just stared at him dumbfounded.
At this Geralt looked up and into your direction “She's fine.” was all he said before focusing on his food again.
You raised your head from your hands and breathed in the cold night air. Yennefer had made so many comments, given so many oppurtunities to make it clear that you had feelings for Jaskier. But it seemed that he was blind to them. You feared he knew, and that's why he would make light of the situation by acting like he didn't know. To spare your feelings.
Deep down you had accepted that fact. That he just didn't feel the same way. That his clumsy flirting was just casual. Just Jaskier being Jaskier.
It didn't hurt any less though. And seeing him surrounded by women, flirting with them right in front of you was painfull. And you couldn't help but be jealous. And angry because him flirting with you was meaningless. You had fought monsters, but the green eyed monster seemed too strong to beat.
“Y/N !” Jaskier's loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts instantly. You looked and saw him walk towards you, almost slipping on the wet grass as he walked to you with his arms spread out like he had just won something.
Oh no, how did he not get the hint ? How did he not realise you went outside to be alone ?
"Y/n, what are you doing over here with that... brooding look in your eyes ?" He waved a hand in your direction. Clearly not realising that unlike him, you were not in a cheery mood. You didn't answer him, fearing that if you did it would be clear that you were angry and upset.
He seemed to get a little more nervous, and it was easy to figure that out considering the conversation would turn awkward “I mean... you could be in the bar. Having a drink, listening to my music. Chit chatting with Yennefer. But if you prefer the cold..” he looked back at the bar and pulled a face.
“Which I would pick over the witch..” he muttered more to himself. “But, she won't turn you into a frog, so why be outside because it's cold...” he shifted on the bench and rubbed his arms as well "...it's really cold."
You let out an audible breath “I'll be fine, I've been through a lot worse then cold.”
He seemed pleased to get a response out of you “Ah yes. Y/n, the brave warrior feared by so many loved by even more...” he nudged your shoulder with his.
You ignored him again, his flirting only hurting you even more now.
He looked at you worried as it started to dawn on him that there was indeed something off with you tonight.
Then he suddenly stood up "Perhaps I should entertain you with a song. I am sure that will cheer you up." Jaskier smiled broadly at you “What would you like to hear ? Or do you wish for me to make one up ?”.
You shook your head, not looking at him. Not daring to look at him in fear of being drawn to him again. Getting hurt again.
He tilted his head, patiently waiting for your reply that didn't come. He swallowed, an unnerving feeling now settling inside of him as well. He wasn't used to not having your attention, he was painfully aware of that now.
“Y/n ?...” his voice was softer then you would have expected to hear from him.
You looked up at him reluctantly. He looked at you almost pleadingly.
You wanted to create a distance between the two of you, so this wouldn't be so hard everyday. But as you looked up and saw the look in his eyes, you felt yourself giving in again.
“Jaskier, I -” you were cut of by someone calling his name, it was one of the women from the bar. He looked back at her over his shoulder and even gave a small wave at her with his hand.
You swallowed hard as you saw the woman approach.
"It appears that your entertainment is requested elsewhere." You said as you quicky stood up from the bench.
Jaskier quickly spun on his heels facing you again “Wait.. I...just.. -”.
You failed to see the look of sheer panic in his eyes as you walked past him and the woman, as you failed to see how he wanted to follow you but the woman took his arm drawing his attention once more.
Your eyes stung as you walked back to the bar, Yennefer's eyes locked on you the second you walked inside the bar. Geralt looked at you almost apologetically. That's when you realised that Yennefer must have told Geralt something, and that's how Jaskier ended up being outside as well.
Shaking your head in slight anger you ignored her stare and walked towards a table at the other end of the bar.
Jaskier stumbled into the bar after finally managing to lose the women who constantly seeked his attention. He was flattered, but your strange behaviour left him feeling unsettled and even worried about what was going on with you.
He looked around the bar, finding it hard to see past the crowds of people. He spotted Geralt and Yennefer and made his way towards them.
“Geralt, have you seen y/n ?” he asked him as he continued to look around the place, searching for you.
Geralt thought for a moment before deciding on lying and saying “No.”
He was not very willing to get involved with the drama that would follow.
"For someone who earns their living singing songs about love, you suprisingly don't know a lot about the subject." Yennefer said to Jaskier casually but with a sharp edge to it.
"And what's that suppossed to mean." Jaskier snapped at her offended.
Yennefer closed her eyes for a second and took a breath before looking at him again "You're more of a fool then a bard." She told him, not giving him a chance to come up with a witty comeback to that. His mouth was slightly agape and he scoffed.
A hand landed on Jaskier's shoulder and he turned to look.
Geralt cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable with the whole situation "She likes you." was all Geralt said before walking past him.
Jaskier looked at him in disgust and shock "What ?! She just insulted me !"
Geralt stopped and turned to his friend who was far more oblivious then he thought "I'm not talking about Yennefer ! " he said and nodded his head in your direction.
The look of disgust on Jaskier's face turned to one of confussion and lastly suprise. His eyes landed on you, sitting in a more silent part of the bar.
You heard the chair next to you move as someone took a seat.
"I would like to enjoy some time alone, Geralt." You said without looking up from your drink.
"So you're with that witcher, eh ?" an unfamiliar voice answered.
You quickly turned to see a man, handsome, muscular build and not much older then yourself sitting next to you.
He didn't seem drunk like most others, instead he seemed focused.
"Sorry, for a moment I thought you were him. So yes, but I'm not... with..." feeling the need to clarify the situation "..the witcher. I consider him a friend. To be clear."
The man looked in the direction where Geralt was standing, and even from this distance you could see he was keeping an eye on you in case of trouble.
The man turned back to you "Could've fooled me. He doesn't mind me talking to you then ?" he grew confident.
You laughed a little "You wouldn't say but he's quite protective of those that he considers friends. Even if he will never verbally admit it. He knows I can take care of myself. I'm old and wise enough to decide who I wish to talk to."
He grinned at that "Excellent. Can I buy you a drink then ? Talking will make our throats go dry soon." He winked at you.
A nervous chuckle escaped you "I..uhm.."
"Y/n !" A voice called out and you looked ahead to see an almost out of breath Jaskier come towards the table you were sitting at with the man. You were about to ask what the hell he was doing, but he held up his hand. Asking for you to wait as he catched his breath and stood upright again "I want to talk to you." He finally said, still somewhat out of breath.
"Get in line." The man next to you said, clearly not happy with the interuption.
You wanted to tell the man that you can speak for yourself, but to your suprise Jaskier had picked a bad time to act brave.
"There is no line." He said as he put empathise on the word as if he was explaining it to a toddler. "I need to speak to her. So if you could please.." he waved his hand as if to shoo the man away. Making it worse when he actually said shoo as he did.
Your mouth fell open, what was he thinking ?! The man next to you stood up from the chair so fast you had no time to react. The table was blocking your way, making you unable to act fast enough. His fist launched and struck Jaskier in the face hard. The crowd cheered and you had to jump over the table, as you drew your dagger and held it against the man's throat.
"Touch him again and I'll slit your throat !" You snarled.
Then suddenly the man was pulled away with force and held by his throat by Geralt "You should go home, before you leave here in pieces."
Then Geralt shoved the man away, making him stumble to the ground and you watched as he crawled to the exit. You gave Geralt a gratefull nod and quickly walked to Jaskier who was holding his bleeding nose.
You kneeled next to him as he sat upright, a pained expression on both your faces.
“Fuck.. that hurt.” he stated dramatically.
You sighed and took the cloth napkin Yennefer held out to you to wipe away the blood from his face “What were you thinking ?! Did you not see the sword that guy was carrying with him ?”
Jaskier looked at you like a kicked puppy, not able to explain himself or his actions without possibly sounding foolish.
“I didn't...” he sheepishly admitted.
You and Geralt helped him up from the floor, he flailed for a second before regaining his balance and standing on his own. You grabbed his arm and made him sit down at a table, walking away for a moment before returning with a cold wet cloth. “How could you miss that ?” You mumbled, holding his face in your hand gently as you wiped away the blood, until you realised he was staring into your eyes and you pauzed for a moment. Then you quickly handed him the cloth before sitting back on your chair.
He blinked a couple of times, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.
“I didn't.. see it because... I was looking at you.” he admitted, the words coming out in a stutter.
“This isn't the time for jokes, Jaskier. You could have been killed and I wouldn't have been able to prevent it. He could've drawn his sword instead of punching you.” you ignored what you believed to be him flirting again and scolded him for his actions.
He held the cloth against his nose, making his voice sound funny. Yet you kept looking at him sternly.
“Seeing him flirt with you is far worse.” the words tumbled from his mouth. Too late to take them back.
A bitter laugh escaped you and you swiftly stood up “Jaskier, just stop !” you turned to him.
His eyes were wide in suprise at your sudden change in tone.
“It is my choice to whom I speak ! You can't just shoo someone away from me because you don't like the fact that they flirt with me. I am not yours !”
With that you stormed away.
Leaving the bard at the table thinking about how that last part stung his heart like a thousand wasps.
Summary: After leaving Brugge, you and Jaskier become even more famous around the kingdoms as you continue to travel around with the witcher. Everything seems to be perfect but after what happened in Brugge your feelings for each other changed: you know there’s more than friendship.
Pairing: Jaskier x Reader;
Word Count: 4k... i’m sorry (no, i’m not.) (Maybe just a little)
Warning: Slow burn, endless amount of Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Protective!Jaskier;
A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry if I didn’t upload for a little bit, I had a small holiday and I finally relaxed, but now I’m back. Enjoy more fluff and even more slow burn hehehe. Disclaimer: I quoted the song “The fishmonger’s daughter” written by Giona Ostinelli, Sonya Belousova and performed by Joey Batey, i do not own it. Hope you’ll like it and, as always, feedback is really appreciated. Love you all xoxo.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Relishing in his scent, you shifted closer to him as his knuckles tenderly grazed over your cheek, his eyes shined in the fire’s light. Your attention was caught by his glance as it pierced the air and fixed on your lips with desire. Every rational thought left your minds while you drifted away, driven by his caresses. Everything was perfect, just as you always imagined: your heart pounding, your hands sweating, the soft, almost imperceptible, quiver of your lips, his knuckles stroking your cheek. Closer and closer and closer, inches by inches you felt his breath on your skin: you knew your faces were just few inches away, your lips were just about to meet and melt in that kiss you so ardently desired as your eyes closed, savoring the moment. But that sensation never came. The campfire, the starts, his face faded away.
With a jolt your eyes reopened quickly as you unfortunately discovered, it was all just a dream.
The same dream that haunted you for months.
Since you and Jaskier shared those moments together in Brugge, your sleep was haunted by those sensations you craved with all yourself. His fresh and now familiar scent, his warmth, his strong arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers through your hair… those feelings never left you. Every night was the same dream, you and him together around a campfire as the stars shine above you, the world around you dissolves, you meet Jaskier’s eyes and when you are about to kiss, you woke up. So your morning routine quickly changed into a heavy sigh and a frustrated sleepy mumbling.
As soon as your eyes opened and you regained consciousness, you heard a sound, a voice. Someone was singing slowly and tenderly, following a simple melody.
Plucking his lute, Jaskier was sitting on a tree trunk, humming quietly and tenderly, he was probably composing something in his mind, while Geralt was having what you supposed was his breakfast.
Trying to brush away the sleepiness, you rubbed your eyes, yawned and got up in a sitting position, making the branches under your bedroll creak. Jaskier turned his head at the sound as his fingers ceased to move on the strings.
“Y/n” he smiled so brightly that you instantly forgot sleepiness and frustration “I hope I didn’t wake you up”
“No, don’t worry Jaskier. Actually, it’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today” you said smiling.
Jaskier fought the urge not to melt at your words “Then I should sing every morning”
“Please don’t” Geralt intervened, who kept looking at his breakfast. The bard gasped, pretending to be offended, placing his hand on his chest and winking at you.
Geralt wasn’t a very approachable man but once you go over that hard shell you found a sensitive man full of insecurities. Despite his serious and apparently solitary demeanor, Geralt, as months went by, seemed to change a little. Both you and Jaskier knew he was happy to have someone around him who didn’t call him “monster”, or worse. What seemed to bothering him the most was the bard’s constant comments and claims about their friendship, earning an effortless grumble from the witcher, but you could see the weakest hint of amusement on his face that just confirmed your and Jaskier’s thoughts. The word “friend” never left Geralt’s lips but deep down you knew he cared about him.
Their relationship was quite clear but between you and Jaskier was another kettle of fish. If you were so sure about their friendship, it wasn’t the same for the bard and you. Not that there was something wrong, actually it was the exact opposite.
It happened quite often that you found yourself thinking at the past few months: when you met in Cintra, the days spent to reach Brugge, that day when you decided to work together, the performance in the square… when he saved you from the man who assaulted you… his hand tight around yours… his arms encircling your body steadily. Months went by as you grew closer and closer, laughing together, playing together, pranking Geralt and essentially signing your own death warrant, but the sensations you both felt back in Brugge changed something, in both of you: deep down in your hearts your feelings, guarded from any judgment, were clear as daylight.
At least that’s what you thought.
Geralt fought the urge to shout “Just say that you love each other already!” at least 5 times. Every. Single. Day.
Even to his untrained eyes, your feelings for each other were quite evident, but clearly not for you and Jaskier, and that’s what left the witcher a little confused.
Traveling around with the bard inevitably led to learn more about him: a philanderer, who always flirted with every damsel that smiled in his direction or simply looked at him. So when he started flirting with you and joking around, Geralt thought he was his usual self, but after observing him for a while, he immediately realized he was wrong. The way Jaskier acted around you was completely different, his eyes didn’t burn with lasciviousness or lust but in affection, protectiveness and...love. However you still didn’t confess to each other. Geralt lifted his eyes from his breakfast slowly, almost as if he didn’t want to be caught looking at you two, and smiled.
They met by the will of destiny. Destiny shall bring them together, he thought.
___________________________________________
Autumn was about to end as winter rapidly approached: nights got colder and days got shorter. Summer and its festivals left you and Jaskier with a bag of coins and a bunch of really good memories. Since when you started working together, you established a phenomenal fame around the kingdoms that got you into a fairly high demands for festivals, noble’s personal banquets, public feast and festivity. In order to respond to a frantic schedule and to keep up the pace with the witcher, you and Jaskier traded some of your coins for a beautiful brown stallion. Of course you didn’t have enough money to buy two horses so you decided to ride Pegasus, as Jaskier named him, together.
The bard was actually pretty excited to finally ride a horse after consuming two pairs of boots while walking from city to city, but there was something even more exciting about it.
“Okay, here we go” Jaskier exclaimed before adjusting the saddle and hopping over Pegasus’ back with a smooth, and quite graceful, movement.
“I can hear your boots celebrate” you said looking up at him.
“And my feet too! Come, it’s your turn” he offered his hands out to you with a smile. In that moment Jaskier realized what was gonna happen next and suddenly felt quite excited. Biting your lips you took his hand and got on Pegasus.
“Give me your lute, I’ll take it” you suggested.
Eyeing you from over his shoulder the bard nodded “Oh, sure” he said before lifting the strap and handing the instrument to you as you quickly shove it over your back.
Now that you took away the lute, Jaskier felt your body getting closer to his back, your legs were almost glued together.
“Come on, we have to go” Geralt baritone voice caught your attention. He was already leading the way out of town, his freshly polished swords shined a little even though the sun was completely covered by clouds.
“You don’t have to wait for us anymore, come on Pegasus let’s go” the bard gave a steady yank to the reins and Pegasus started following Roach.
The sudden movement took you off guard as you promptly grabbed Jaskier by his waist tightly in an attempt to not fall off Pegasus. Under his doublet, Jaskier’s muscles tensed a little at the feeling of your arms and hands around him, you were so close that he could smell the delicate and floral perfume you bought when you left Brugge.
He wished, he hoped, he dreamed he could stay in your arms forever, feeling your touch and your warmth around him.
“I think we made a good impression on the mayor” you said, trying to not let the nervousness of the situation take over you.
“Absolutely. I think we found another patron of the arts. He really appreciated our performance”
“Well, I think he preferred the dancing part” you smirked.
“Oh, what are you implying back there?” he asked with a playful tone.
“Come on, we both know who is the best”
“Oh, oh! Starting to steal my lines aren’t you my dear?”
You both laughed, before you continued “We make a great team together”
Without moving his glance, Jaskier smiled “We do”
___________________________________________
The path in the forest suddenly took a rough turn, the witcher instantly recognized where they were and stopped Roach. You and Jaskier halted too.
The weather didn’t get better during your ride, the leaden sky got darker rather quickly, leaving just half an hour of light, more or less.
“We will stay here tonight” Geralt stated before getting off Roach and giving her a small stroke on the neck.
“Well that’s good ‘cause my backside has the exact same shape of the saddle” commented the bard.
Before Jaskier could get off and offer his help, you had already jumped off and took your bag from the saddle. The warmth of your chest on his back was now gone as a cool breeze took his place.
The night went as usual: Geralt wandered off to find something to eat, you and Jaskier placed your bags on the ground then sat next to each other and talked for a little. Your frenetic life didn’t leave much time for you two to actually sit down and talk comfortably, there was always an interruption of some sort and when you were in a city to perform, when you finished you were just too exhausted and dragged yourselves to sleep. However you tried repeatedly to have just few minutes alone, because you knew you had many things to talk about, but the occasion never came.
“It’s such a delightful sensation, my feet aren’t sore at all” you mentioned looking at him.
“A dancer that complains about sore feet? That’s quite rare”
“True” You chuckled “Actually I didn’t think the lute was so uncomfortable to carry, it can be rather heavy sometimes. I don’t know how can you carry it around all day long”
Well, now I know how he sculpted his back and arms, you thought.
“Just one of my many qualities.” he winked “It’s the burden I must carry for spread my art to all the kingdoms”
While listening to his hilarious description, you brought you hand to your shoulder and massaged it, your eyes contorted in a small painful expression.
“But I have to say, after a while you get used to it you- Y/n? What is it?” he said, his smile dropping.
“Just a little sore on my back and shoulders…”
“Come here” he said steadily.
Your eyes darted up to him but did what he said and scooted closer. Placing his hands on your shoulders he made you turn away so that he could massage your upper back with ease. His warm hands soothed your tired muscles almost immediately.
“Thank you Jaskier” you said, feeling you heart hammering in your chest “Do you need it too? I will gladly reciprocate”
“Well, I must say I’m not so sore even if your hug was quite tight” he said playfully.
“But you didn’t pull away from it” you smirked over your shoulder. His hands stopped moving and slowly slid down your arms, goosebumps appeared on your skin, and that wasn’t because of the cold. Turning slowly, your eyes met and none of you noticed how close your faces actually were.
“Because I didn’t want to” he whispered. Jaskier’s blue irises moved from your eyes to your lips many times, his hands went to find yours.
“JASKIER!”
The bard almost jumped off his skin after hearing Geralt, who quickly approached you holding a dead animal in one hand and a pink… button-down. Not any button-down. His button-down. The original white color was now spotted with bright pink irregular spots.
“What did you do?” he grumbled.
“Oh,” he paused “the laundry maid probably washed it with my red doublet” laughing nervously, he rubbed behind his neck.
“That was the only-” the witcher didn’t have the chance to finish because you cut him off.
“Don’t worry Geralt I’ll take care of it, I know some tricks” you suggested taking the shirt from his hand with a small smile “Even if the pink would suit you better”
Jaskier started laughing before the witcher shot him a dirty look, ending his laughter.
When night came, Geralt’s button-down was finally back to his normal white color and dinner was delicious, however Jaskier couldn’t not think at the moment when he was alone with you and the chance that faded away with the witcher’s scream. As every other time, you got interrupted by something, it was so frustrating.
Trying to calm down a little, he took the lute and started playing a soft melody and hummed along with it, searching for the right intensity and rhythm.
The music rapidly made everyone fall asleep, but Jaskier didn’t stop, he wanted to find the rhymes he needed to complete the verses and night always brought a good amount of inspirations. Few hours went by, midnight had already passed as the temperature dropped, Jaskier noticed it because you started shivering under your blanket. His fingers immediately ceased to move on the strings as he got up, quietly trying to not wake you up and took his blanket. Branches creaked a little under his feet before he dropped on his knees and covered you, hoping your shiver would quickly stop. They did.
I have so many things to say to you, so many feelings, but three words would be just enough, he thought while looking at your sleeping form. He would find a way to finally talk to you, at any cost, but for now he had to sleep for a little while, the next day would have been another sore backside day. With a sigh, he got up.
“When will you talk to her?”
The witcher had watched the all scene from his spot on the ground.
Jaskier turned with wide eyes “Geralt? What are you doing?!”
“I can’t fucking sleep”
“i swEAR ON MELITELE-”
___________________________________________
When you woke up, the sun still hadn’t show up through the trees. Sleeping in the woods, mostly during autumn and winter, obviously had its downsides for example shivering all night like a leaf in the wind. However, you quickly realized, you weren’t freezing at all compared to the other nights. You also realized there was a familiar scent in the air that was surprisingly close to you. A little confused you lifted on your elbows and stared down at your legs, only to find an extra blanket that covered you from your upper body to your feet in a warm hug. Instantly you recognized Jaskier’s blanket and his cologne. You couldn’t stop the smile that formed on your face as you looked at the bard, who was snoring lightly in a peaceful sleep, covered with only a thin piece of fabric.
After few minutes the boys woke up as you got ready for the day. Approaching Jaskier you handed him his blanket.
“Thank you so much Jaskier” his hands went to take the folded fabric and your fingers brushed together a little, making his muscles tense a bit.
Brushing away the nervousness he finally responded “I didn’t want you to get sick, we have a performance tonight!”
___________________________________________
When you arrived at the city gates, you were welcomed by a very large group of people who was undoubtedly impatient to make your acquaintance as they greeted you with the warmest smiles and shouts you had ever had. That night you performed in the city tavern, which had a rather ample hall, enough to receive at least half the inhabitants. There were surely more than just half of the people, because the room was now teeming with men and women who waited patiently to enjoy some good music. Geralt had a reserved table, close to the space left for you and Jaskier in order to perform easily, and a nice cold pint in front of him.
As usual your entrance was followed by a thunderous applause as you two positioned yourselves in the middle, Jaskier winked at you and smiled, ready to play his lute. The first ballad was “Winter”, you recognized it since the first note, your arms and legs started moving in immeasurably graceful movements, firstly you were still in your position, then you moved around the room, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Jaskier followed your lead and walked while giving mighty strums to the lute. Music took over you as you approached in the middle of the hall sharing a long, loving glance at each other, the chemistry you had was almost palpable and such evident it made the words sang by the bard even more magical.
The ballad ultimately ended but the audience asked for another one, to which Jaskier gladly agreed: he loved to be around people and please their requests.
“Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger” he started and almost immediately the room filled with everyone’s voice, singing along with the bard.
“Come quell your daughter’s hunger
To pull on my horn” he winked.
“As it rises in the morn”
Your dress whirled around following your movement as you passed near the men and women sat at the tables. Precisely when you passed near a small group of men, you didn’t fail to notice a lascivious touch on your thigh. You couldn’t stop dancing but the gesture didn’t go unseen by the bard who fought to maintain his calm and instead opted for a smart move, and changed the lyric a little.
“To fuck with a puck
Lest your grandkid be born
if you touch her it’s your loss
cause I’ll cut your hands off hey ho!”
The smile he had on his face didn’t match the killer glare he gave to the men who quickly gulped and looked away, while everyone else burst out laughing.
“The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba
The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba!”
The last verses were accompanied by loud claps and feet tamping on the floor as the ballad ended.
After at least five or six ballads, one after another, you were both exhausted; the dark sky out of the window suggested it was time to end the evening.
As every other time, it was a success. You both bowed humbly and headed out, Geralt quickly followed behind you, drunkenly stumbling out of the door.
“Have you seen their faces Geralt?” you asked, excitement clear in your voice.
The witcher left out what you supposed to be was a happy hum.
“But have you seen the bard? The talent, the singing,” you poked him in the chest “isn’t it Geralt?”
He just grumbled and brought a hand on his head, the migraine was quite strong.
“You see? He agrees”
Geralt took few steps ahead of you and entered in the inn you would stay in for the night. You and Jaskier stood outside for a little while, enjoying the peaceful silence.
“That was a disappointed growl,” you pointed out lifting your eyebrows “and the audience seemed to appreciate my dance even more”
“Yes, someone surely did” his face darkened, his smile dropped and his jaw clenched. He was referring to the man who touched you. Seeing his expression was upsetting but you couldn’t stop the butterflies that appeared in your stomach just at the thought of Jaskier being protective of you.
What are you thinking, come on, you are his friend, he was just acting like a good friend, you thought with a hint of bitterness in your heart.
“Don’t worry Jaskier, it happens… sometimes there are people that can’t keep their hands to themselves.”
You smiled and his demeanor changed almost instantly “Sorry I can’t stand people that lay their dirty hands on you…”
Bye bye heartbeat.
Taking his hands in yours, you gave them a small squeeze “Thank you. Truly.”
“I actually quite like the lyric that way, you should keep it” you joked.
He chuckled “Just for special occasions, like this”
Silence take over, as you just glanced, getting lost into each other’s eyes.
“Uh, we should… get inside” you said after a long pause.
“Oh, uh, yes, totally, yes”
That night you both had a distressed sleep and when you would finally fall asleep, you would start dreaming about each other, just adding more doubts and hopes.
Sitting up in his bed, Jaskier faintly shook his head. That was it, he had to talk to you about his feelings even if that would ruin your friendship, he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to take the risk. Little did he know, that you were thinking the same thing.
___________________________________________
At the beginning, it was only little rain, then, in a blink of an eye, it started pouring. The three of you left the city at dawn, you rode through another wood for few hours, midday still hadn’t come when Geralt basically ordered you to stay there. People in the city have warned you there was something lurking in that forest, surely a job for a witcher, who promptly prepared his swords and ventured through the trees. When Geralt left, the sun, which was shining in the clear winter sky, rapidly got covered by cloud decks, but the temperature was still acceptable, so you and Jaskier decided to walk together for a bit. You left Pegasus at the camp with all your bags and went out in the wood: that’s when it started pouring. Obviously, you were already to far away to come back at the camp before getting all your clothes drenched in water.
“We have to find a shelter!”
“Over there! I think a saw something” you pointed through the trees covering your head with your scarf.
When you arrived in the spot you had mentioned, you found a small cave near to some huge fallen rocks.
“Y/n I didn’t know you were an elf, your sight is incredible”
“I’m not the one who has pointy ears” you smirked.
Jaskier’s lips curved in a “o” shape and his eyes widened “I don’t have pointy ears!”
“You sure? I can see them” you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Oh is that so? Come here you!” he said grabbing you by your waist and lifting you up before taking you into the small cave.
You burst out laughing before you were (reluctantly) released from his grasp and your feet touched the ground again.
Jaskier was now right in front of you, small raindrops were streaming down his handsome face, his blue eyes fixed onto yours. Many times you hoped, you dreamed about that moment, all the words you would have said, how you would have taken each other’s hands in yours, how you could have stopped your heartbeat to hammer in your ribcage, but every plan you made, faded away.
Your hand went to his cheek as Jaskier fought the urge to not melt under your tender touch.
Without a word, Jaskier’s hand went instinctively to cup one side of your face, his thumb rubbed on it gently feeling the raindrops falling down his fingers as he slowly got closer, just like in your dream, but that time he didn’t fade away.
Your eyes closed as your lips melted together in a beautiful, passionate kiss, that kiss you both ardently desired for too much time. Your hands moved from your cheeks and encircled each other’s body in a tight hug as you felt Jaskier’s arm travel behind your head, his fingers through your hair made goosebumps appear on your wet skin.
When you parted, you had the brightest smile drawn on your face, while the bard couldn’t stop looking at you, at your face, at your wet hair, at your soft lips. Words couldn’t describe the blissful feeling of happiness that warmed his heart.
You met by the will of destiny. Destiny brought you together.
But destiny is blind and inscrutable, it likes to play and things sometimes just don’t go as you wished they would.
