I don't know if you remember me but I'm the original Anon who first mentioned deaf!Jaskier to you a while ago. I'm so glad to see that the fandom has gained more content on it!
Me, too! I’m so honored that you trust me to write something like this. I will do my best to represent deaf!Jaskier well.
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Geralt slowed Roach to a halt and turned to face the bard, whose tongue was sticking out from between his lips. He was standing stock-still in the middle of the dirt path, his eyes squinting down at his lutestring. He glanced up at Geralt, signing hastily: This string will break soon.
The witcher nodded. We’ll get new ones soon.
Jaskier smiled brightly, contented, and slung the lute into its case. There was no point endangering his eyes or fingers by playing with strings that might break. The bard jogged up to Geralt’s side and tapped against his leg to get his attention. When the witcher glanced down, Jaskier asked: How much further today?
Six miles. Maybe more, maybe less. No town today, sorry.
That’s fine. I like the stars.
Geralt smiled. He was lucky to have a friend like Jaskier, who never gave up on him and always seemed to bring out the best side of his gruff, grumpy nature. He was sure it had something to do with the bard’s tenacity; who else could be born deaf and still devote their life to making beautiful music?
His signed poetry was also rather touching, but if Geralt ever said anything about it, it would go straight to the bard’s head. And that was large enough already.
The silence had never weighed heavily on Geralt, and it felt even more comfortable with Jaskier at his side, chatting to him with his hands when he felt like it, whistling softly once and awhile.
I love you, he said, hands safely within the confines of his cloak for now. Someday he’d be able to admit it for real, but not yet. He said it again just to feel the way his fingers moved through the words: I love you so much.













