You’re the one who got stabbed
Stole this idea from the lovely @witched-the-watcher (x). Hope you like it!
‘So I heard you were in need of a saviour, a witcher in particular. Good news my dear friend here I am.’
‘You look like a bard to me.’
He let out a gasp. ‘Well I am technically speaking a witcher, I mean look at the cat eyes! They somehow didn’t turn as yellow as most witcher’s eyes but still. I survived it all and I’m here to help you. Me and my friend.’
‘Your friend at least looks like a witcher.’
‘That’s not my fault. You know what I’ll let him tell you the truth. Geralt! He won’t believe me! Again!’
The larger witcher got up and walked to the talking pair. ‘Technically speaking he is a witcher, not a good one, but a witcher nonetheless.’
‘Thank you Geralt- Wait what? Not a good one? I’m still alive it looks to me like I’m doing great!’
‘Sorry for my friend. He can tell you all about his training days to make you believe him later.’ If looks could kill Geralt would be dead right now, not that this particular witcher could ever kill him. Even Geralt has no idea how he survived any of the trials, or how he survived anything in general. He asked about the contract and went on his way, a few insectos had a nest in the area. Jaskier kept following him, in his leather armour for once and ranting about how he isn’t actually such a bad witcher. That idiot used to knock himself out when fighting a fucking training dummy. Vesemir told him about his training and he still can’t believe anything from it.
‘Look I have some very important business to attend to dear Vesemir. So I sadly have to skip this training session.’ The sixteen year old witcher said. He could see how tired Vesemir was getting but he continued anyway. He really hated training, he wasn’t good at it and he’d preferably do whatever the fuck he wants. He didn’t choose to be a witcher, it was his parents stupid decision to let a witcher invoke the law of surprise. And now he survived the trial of the grasses, and they still won’t let him go. He got so angry he named himself after a flower just to fuck with Vesemir. It was a poisonous flower and you definitely shouldn’t rub it over your skin, but it was a flower nonetheless.
Vesemir let out a sigh ‘And, Jaskier, what is this business?’
‘Well.. I need to study, I was doing that before you called us for the training and I was having a blast honestly. It would be a real shame if I lost my concentration.’
‘Name one fact you learned, a real one and you may go.’ Fuck fuck fuck I’ll just make one up he won’t notice a thing.
‘Uhm.. let me think I learned so much I don’t know where to start.’ He just kept looking at him disapprovingly. ‘Ah I got it! There once was a forktail near here who instead of attacking people fell asleep in the courtyard!’ Gods he was so good at lying ‘And that was a fact so I’ll be going-’ The older man grabbed his shirt and yanked him towards the training ground. ‘By the gods Vesemir that’s just rude!’
‘I have an idea. Fight me and if you don’t lose you can skip tomorrow’s training.’
‘You have to go out and hunt a monster. That enough motivation for you?’ Oh he was going to win this fight so bad.
‘Fine, just know that I will win and have such a good day tomorrow.’ He could barely say anything more due to the fact that Vesemir swung his sword at him. He barely avoided it and grabbed his own sword from his back. He tried to find his gripping and swung his sword at Vesemir. Who avoided it way too easily before walking closer. This is my chance he thought, but before he knew it something yanked his ankles away from the floor and he fell. All that he could remember after that was the pain in his head and how the world became black.
He woke up still lying on the cold floor. He could still hear the clattering of swords as he waited for the headache to pass so he could open his eyes until he heard Vesemir speak up.
‘Open your eyes I know you’re awake.’
‘But my head, it hurts. Honestly I don’t think opening them will make thing much better. I’ll just lie here until training’s over.’ He said still keeping his eyes closed.
‘You’re already a hazard to yourself and everyone else when you don’t have a concussion, you can go to your room and prepare for the hunt.’
His eyes snapped open and he immediately regretted it. ‘Wait you were serious about that? I really need to fight a monster?’
‘Dead serious. I expect to see something before tomorrow.’
‘If you’ve paid attention to anything you wouldn’t.’
‘Fine! But I choose the monster and I don’t have to train anymore today.’
‘As long as you bring a monster it’s fine. Now go before you hurt someone other than yourself.’
He got up and tried to find his balance before going to his room. He didn’t know a lot of the potions but he knew swallow, the healing potion. He didn’t get them from others anymore so he made some himself and put them in his room. Even some of the best witchers get hurt sometimes he always told himself. He sat down on his bed next to his home made lute. He didn’t have any coin and no one wanted to get him one, so he made his own. It sounded horrible but with the help of a book he stole he was able to practice and write songs. This whole witcher thing wasn’t going to stop him from doing what he wants. He drank the dose of swallow and started collecting his stuff. Two swords, one steel and one silver, only take the silver one when you need to it’s a soft metal so it will break sooner bla bla bla. This might be one of the few facts he remembered and it was for a reason. Every day they said it until he remembered it. Rope seems to be a handy thing to take and a few doses of swallow. He put it next to his armour and checked if he had everything. I mean he’s never actually hunted something so he wouldn’t know, but it seemed like it could be everything. He put on his armour, which he dyed all kinds of beautiful shades of blue, despite Vesemir’s protests.
‘Witchers wear black, that’s a trademark colour please don’t dye it blue.’ It only motivated him more to do it. So he lied to Vesemir by telling him that blue is almost black and he dyed it blue. He might have found out how magic works in the progress, he found an old book talking about other uses than the one-handed spells witchers used and he gave his armour the prettiest colours using magic. After that he turned to his normal clothes and turned them into gorgeous doublets so he wouldn’t have to walk around in old rags anymore. He was on cleanup duty for a month and he didn’t regret a thing.
He headed out when his head stopped hurting, which might have been fifteen minutes or so. Moments like this made him thankful for witcher’s enhanced healing abilities. He didn’t have his own horse so he grabbed a white shared horse called weed. She was a bit of an ugly horse but she was lovely. He went out looking for a simple creature to take back home. He first went to the watchtower to see if anything simple was nearby. He got off weed when the road started becoming narrow and continued on foot. He climbed to watch tower and checked the surroundings. He didn’t expect to see much and definitely not a six armed demon horse with god knows how many eyes.
‘Oh I am definitely going to take you back home.’ He said to himself. He went back to weed and rode to where he saw the creature. He had no idea how but he found it, but he saw it. It was standing in a clearing in the woods and there were no others creatures near.
‘What now, it’s basically another horse right? Just tame it and take it back? Sounds like a plan right weed?’ He got off and slowly started walking towards the creature. Vesemir didn’t say anything about it needing to be alive or dead and he really wanted his own horse.
‘Now, how to tame a demon horse. Any ideas Weed? No of course not you’re a horse and I can’t send you to him he if you die Vesemir will kill me for real. So maybe I’ll just name it, what to name a demon horse with six arms…’
‘I’m a genius, let’s do this. Greg?’ He called to the whatever it was. It didn’t seem startled but all of it’s thirteen eyes were locked on him. ‘Hi, I..uhm.. am in need of a horse and you would truly be my saviour.’ Fuck fuck fuck what now. ‘I have a rope, and I can use it to guide you back home, and we can be friends, obviously only if you want to and you would really help me out. So,’ He grabbed the rope and made a lasso out of it, a big one. This thing might look like a horse but it had an enormous head. ‘I’m just gonna put this around your neck and you, my new friend are coming home with me.’ He said while slowly getting closer, it seemed to be saying things in elven but Jaskier couldn’t care less. He needed to bring back a creature and this would be perfect, and bonus, he seems like a perfect horse and friend. He stood before it and slowly put the rope around his neck, while Greg looked at him with all his thirteen eyes. He patted him a little bit before going back to weed. He took the end of the rope and thankfully Greg followed him. He walked back towards weed, who seemed shocked and started panicking.
‘Weed it’s fine! This is Greg, a friend, and he is, partially, a horse! He’ll be your friend! Now come on we gotta walk all the way back so I can bond with Greg. Look, Weed I love you but I need my own horse anyway so will you pretty please follow me back to Kaer Morhen?’ The horse did not seem to care. ‘Righty, I guess I can sit on your back but we’re going to walk slow if Greg runs I might actually have to fight something.’ He got on weed, still holding the rope attached to Greg. He kept looking at him and talking to him the whole ride, the seemed to become less tense when they got to Kaer Morhen. Or he thought, he was still talking about a thirteen eyes demon horse. The gate was closed so he got of Weed and knocked on it. Vesemir came to open the door and when he did he just stared in disbelief. Not the kind that says “wow Jaskier you did it!”, it was more of a “Jaskier what the fuck did you take back here!?”. But he didn’t say anything, he just stared with a tired look on his face.
‘Vesemir!’ Jaskier said after a while of silence. ‘You told me to bring back a monster so here I am! This is Greg and he’s going to be my horse and friend.’
‘You are so lucky I have to take care of you and not any other witcher who would have really killed you now.’
‘What do you mean? I did what you asked, I brought back a monster. You never said that said monter wasn’t allowed to be my own horse.’
‘No, strike it down and get this over with, Jaskier.’ He let out a gasp and coverved what were probably Greg’s ears.
‘No! He’s my horse I’ll strike your horse down if you lay one finger on him!’ Vesemir just sighed
‘If he destroys anything he leaves directly, now make sure the others don’t see him.’
Jaskier was practically jumping with joy right now. He led Greg to the stables and put him in an empty one. He started brushing and washing him afterwards. He put a saddle on him and tried to find reins that fit on this creature’s head, but gave up after a while. He knew horses needed to get used to wearing gear, so he took the saddle off and before going to bed, he’d find a solution for the reins tomorrow. It wasn’t only something he wanted to do, but also a great excuse to skip tomorrow’s training.
‘Goddamnit Jaskier! I told you to stay away this time!’
‘Geralt I too am a witcher I- ah!- watch out you brute!’
‘We’ve been traveling for centuries you should know by now that you almost always get hurt!’
‘You should know how to drag a stabbed man correctly by now without - ah!- hurting him with every step!’
The hunt went wrong, again. Even Geralt couldn’t believe that this man had been a witcher for a couple centuries and he still got hurt on almost every contract they- he went on. Jaskier almost never helped, except for when he distracted the monster and gave Geralt a chance to strike it down. This time that was supposed to happen, only this time Geralt wasn’t fast enough to strike it down, and it stabbed Jaskier. And it stabbed him good, right in the left kidney to be precise. Luckily for him he already got stabbed before in the same kidney, a healer said his kidney would regrow within a couple years but it would function worse. At least he still only had one bad kidney and one good one. They walked straight passed the inn where they’d get their reward and went to the healer’s house. Thank god this town had a magical healer. Jaskier was fine all of the time, but he has been way to close for way to many times, and Geralt still hated it every time it happened. As far as they knew he was still mortal, it was almost impossible for him to die of old age, but he still was able to bleed out. And oh god did he lose a lot of blood. He left behind a trail on the ground, and sadly also on Geralt, but anyone could follow them from the monster to the healers hut with ease. He didn’t even care to knock when they got there, he just pushed the door open with his shoulder and walked in, still dragging Jaskier who was now bleeding all over the healer’s floor. The healer was a young blonde woman with dark eyes. She was wearing a turquoise blouse and a skirt which consisted of all kinds of rags. She looked at the pair and quickly told them to sit Jaskier down on the bed while she grabbed her stuff. When Jaskier was sitting he stripped him from his clothes, knowing from experience that he needed to take them off anyway. He quickly discarded them on the floor and took a look at the wound. It did not look pretty, it was bleeding a lot and you could just see his kidney, or what was left of it at least. The healer quickly came back, she took of the rags that formed her skirt and she as wearing a pair of leather pants and an apron with old stains on it. She had a bag or supplies and put it on the ground next to Jaskier and started doing her job.
‘What happened?’ She asked while she started cleaning the wound, or at least she tried to, Jaskier was demonstrating quite a lot.
‘I.. uhm ah! be careful!’
‘We were fighting some insectoids and one stabbed him.’
‘He got hurt here before?’
‘The scar tissue around it. He’s really unlucky.’
‘You’re wrong I am the luckiest witcher’s on the- ow do you mind?’
‘Agreed, he’s a horrible witcher, it’s a wonder he’s still alive.’
‘Geralt I swear if you call- oh goddamnit! That hurt.’
‘I’m going to stich it up now, I don’t have anything for you to bite on sadly.’
‘Geralt I’m going to squeeze you hand whether you like it or not.’ Before he could say anything Jaskier grabbed his hand and was ready to squeeze it. She held a needle and threat close to the wound and Jaskier looked at her hand, clearly not looking forward to it. The moment the needle entered his skin he looked away and squeezed his hand. He had an surprising amount of strength for a man who just lost a lot of blood.
‘Ah! that, fuck that will always hurt, goddamnit.’
‘Then don’t get stabbed as much as you do.’ He was basically curled up on him right now. For someone who gets stabbed as often as he does he’s very bad at dealing with getting stitched up. It took a while before she said something again.
‘Sit still or it will only hurt more, trust me.’ Jaskier didn’t respond anymore, his eyes we’re still opened, but he seemed to barely stay awake. Looks like the adrenaline started to disappear from his body. He put him a bit straighter despite his grunts of protest so the healer can do her job right. When she finished stitching him up he had fully lost consciousness and Geralt put him on the bed.
‘I’d like to use some spells before I’m done.’
She said something in elvish and let her now glowing hands hover over the wound. After a while she spoke up again.
‘How long have you been traveling together?’
‘Too long, centuries I think? They all said I wouldn’t last a week.’
‘Tell me more, might give you a discount if you do.’
Even Jaskier had to admit it, he did not expect to make it through the trials, he honestly didn’t even expect to live long enough to see the trials. At least this would mean he’d get to hit the road, but not alone, of course Vesemir wouldn’t let him go alone. He might look like he hasn’t slept in years because of him, but he still didn’t want him to die. He was, and always will be angry with him for invoking the law of surprise on his parents, but he did raise him. And he was better than most other older witcher at Kaer Morhen. He didn’t yell at him every time he did something wrong, and oh god did he do a lot wrong, he was like a father figure for him, despite everything. He still cut himself when grabbing a sword without gloves so he might haven’t really done a good job, but Jaskier did not make it easy for him. All he had to do now was wait for another witcher to show up, preferably the white wolf. He’s heard so much about him and if he was going to be the only witcher to not be allowed to hit the road alone, he was at least going to be traveling with someone famous. He told Vesemir about his preferences and he just said if he shows up within a month you can go with him. What he didn’t tell him was that he wasn’t going to take no as an answer. And he right now really started to think he didn’t have to fight him anymore, a large white haired man just walked in, and Vesemir almost ran towards him.
‘Vesemir. You told me to come.’
‘Yes I did, I have an apprentice for you.’
‘Jaskier! Here, now!’ He got up and walked towards them. ‘You’re going to be traveling with him, now’ He put a hand on his shoulder.’Good luck, and I am finally going to take a peaceful nap.’ And he walked off, not looking back. Jaskier knew he cared about him, but it still hurt, seeing him walk off without looking back.
‘You’re not traveling with me.’
‘Yes I am, fellow witcher, I-’
‘I don’t believe your a witcher.’
‘That’s just rude, I am a perfectly capable witcher. I even have a demon horse and it’s way better than any regular horse, but that’s not the point. Vesemir didn’t even introduce me properly. I’m Jaskier.’ He gave him his hand and he shook it.
‘Geralt of Rivia, not making you my apprentice.’
‘No you’re not, I already am and I’m impossible to get rid of. I have way to many questions for you.’
‘Since you insist upon it, first question. How did you dye your hair white? No one wanted to tell me how you did it and I was thinking how I could dye my own hair cornflower blue to go with my armour. Did you know I dyed it using magic? I-’
‘Loss of pigmentation from all the experiments. Next question.’
‘What’s your opinion on poetry? I wrote a few ballads but I only have a makeshift lute so we just gotta get to the nearest town and get me a good one so I can play in taverns and make coin and we’re all set for adventure.’
‘Why would I take you with me?’ Fuck he wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Guilt trip him maybe?
‘What about Vesemir? He raised you too didn’t he? Just try it for him and if after a week you still hate me I’ll leave.’ He wasn’t going to leave after a week no matter what. ‘It will be great fun and I’ll pay you back the lute, promised.’
‘Not taking no for an awser, we’re leaving today.’
‘Fine, but only if you don’t bring us in danger.’ He had no idea what changed his mind, but he was happy with this development. He needed to grab his stuff before leaving, he was lookin forward to this, but it did come kind of unexpected.
‘I’ll get my stuff and I’ll introduce you to Greg when I come back! He’s amazing and honestly quite scary sometimes but you’ll love him I assure you.’
‘Hm’ Was all that he heard before he left to his room to grab his stuff. He folded his clothes and put them in a bag, his armour was made of leather and so he managed to fold it up a bit too. He still hated wearing it, it was heavy and sweaty and he only wore it when he needed to. He got his personal belongings and left what he could. His homemade lute, he was getting a new one anyway. And his books about music and spells, he already knows every sentence in all of the books. And all of the junk he put in his room, he was just planning on leaving it. Vesemir told him they weren’t taking in new witchers anymore, so he figured he could just come back anytime.
He took his bags to Greg and saddled him up. He was so much tamer than the first time he met him. He still tranced out sometimes and spoke gibberish in elven, but he was able to ride him. He was ready for his adventure, he still didn’t look forward to being a witcher, but that’s what Geralt’s for. He can be a witcher while he can sing in taverns, making coin his own way. He probably had to help sometimes, but he’d be fine. He had been training for his whole life, how bad could it possibly get?
He grabbed the reins and walked towards the courtyard.
‘Yeah, found him two years ago or so. I had to come back with a monster because I failed training and I found him. He isn’t a monster, he’s honestly a really good horse but he passed as one, a monster I mean. And since then I had my own horse, he’s a bit.. creepy sometimes but he’s amazing.’
‘He’ll scare the villagers.’
‘He won’t! Everyone will love him trust me. Now let’s go I need you to hear my ballads on an actual lute!’
‘I’m not buying you one.’
‘I’ll pay it back, trust me. Now let’s go you still haven’t told me about your opinion on poetry.’
‘You’re not going to make me regret making you stay are you?’
‘Geralt I would never. I survived the trials so I am a good witcher. Now get on your boring regular horse and let’s go!’
He got on his horse and left first, Jaskier following and talking about anything and everything. And Geralt’s responses started getting longer and longer, and before any of them knew it, they were a couple centuries in.
‘And you just let him stick around?’ The healer asked
‘Didn’t have a choice. He stuck to me like glue.’
‘Within a month, started earning his own part after that.’
‘He’s your complete opposite’
Silence filled the room for a while, she did her job while Geralt just watched. He didn’t have anything better to do anyway he told himself. It was a relief when Jaskier ultimately woke up.
‘Ugh.. I.. what happened?’
‘You were stabbed, again.’
‘So nothing new. Oh my head.’
‘You lost a lot of blood.’
‘And you’re very lucky to be alive, and the worst witcher I’ve ever seen so please be more careful next time.’ The healer said.
‘I was! I- ah’ He tried to move a little bit. ‘it still hurts.’
‘Yeah, you heal fast so it should only hurt a couple of days. Just stick to the lute playing for a while.’
‘How do you know about that?’
‘I told her, thought it’d be polite.’
‘It was, and I don’t say this quick, but you’re the worst witcher I’ve ever heard of.’
‘You guys are horrible do you know that?’
‘You’re the one who got stabbed.’
‘Touché’ He might be the worst witcher to have ever walked the continent, but he still was his friend, his brother maybe, he still didn’t know what to call him, but he was happy that he’s met him. But that idiot really should be sticking to his lute play
