The Bard and the Baby
A/N: What we've been waiting for! Jaskier meets baby Akela (who's about 5 months)!
Summary: For someone who's totally selling the monster-killing, impassive mystique, Geralt is surprisingly kid-friendly.
"For someone who's totally selling the monster-killing, impassive mystique, you're surprisingly kid-friendly."
Geralt looked disgusted for a moment, but then that seemed to be a daily thing he had no control over. Still, he turned back to stoking the fire with an added warmth in his slowly-thawing heart that he knew wasn't coming from the flame. "Thanks," he grumbled, unsure if Jaskier had even meant it as a compliment.
"Seriously though, I'm surprised she's got all four limbs…ten fingers, ten toes…" Akela giggled as Jaskier pinched each tiny digit, and he laughed, reverting back to the baby talk Geralt had to refrain from commenting on. Though he was genuinely glad Jaskier seemed to like the baby, it was still an introduction most unbefitting of him. Of a witcher. He'd known Jaskier for some years, not quite maintaining much of a relationship but certainly becoming at least acquaintances. There was obviously something there, because Geralt had gone searching for the bard purposefully, with no reason other than a subconscious desire to have him meet the baby he'd come to be guardian over. He wasn't completely sure why the desire had existed. Perhaps he was in need of support after leaving Kaer Morhen and the welcomed assistance of his brothers. Perhaps he was aching for a real fight but needed to ensure the baby's safety first. Or, perhaps, just simply, he wanted Jaskier to meet her.
Whatever it was, he didn't think on it, unsure what that would help.
"You know what?" Jaskier had ceased his baby talk, propping the baby on his knee. She was little over four months now and was working on keeping her head up by herself, but Jaskier still had one hand supporting her. "I see the resemblance."
Despite himself, Geralt scoffed. "That's impossible, all things considered."
"What's 'all things'?" Jaskier asked. His eyes suddenly widened. "You stole her? Geralt, please don't tell me you stole this child."
"What? No, I—" Geralt glanced over his shoulder to glare. "Jaskier, you did not believe she was mine biologically."
Jaskier shrugged, allowing the baby to chew on the strings of his tunic. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe I thought they'd…reversed…it?"
"You are as brainless as you look, Bard." Geralt turned his back on him once again, shaking his head to himself.
"Alright, alright, I hadn't really thought that true." He bounced the baby on his knee. "You can't blame me. Witcher best friend says "come meet my new baby" and all kinds of things run through your head. I still haven't landed on one answer, you know."
To save himself from the incessant blathering, Geralt roughly interrupted with the answer Jaskier was searching for with little use of his words and brain. "She'd been abandoned, so I took her," he informed the bard monotonously. He'd had to explain this a number of times, mostly to the witchers of Kaer Morhen when they'd continuously asked him to repeat it, just to ensure they were hearing right. The words still hadn't quite lost their discomfort.
"So…" Jaskier took a second. "You did steal her?" The look the witcher sent him froze his blood and he removed one hand from the baby to hold it, palm up, in his direction. "Joking," he assured him. Geralt didn't look very assured. Still, Jaskier continued, figuring the baby in his arms was enough leverage to escape bodily harm. "Why did you take her? I mean, sure, I'd do it, but you—" He paused for a moment, evidently thinking over his words. "You know what? Never mind. It really doesn't matter."
"You think it's a bad idea."
Jaskier contorted his face into one of deep thought, silent for a few blissful seconds before he opened his mouth once more. "I don't, actually," he decided on. Geralt's hand paused in its stoking. "I get that you can't really fight everything that goes bump in the night with a baby on board…but in the long run, I think this might be good for you. Got to start looking out for yourself at some point, right?"
"Hm." Vesemir had said something similar.
"Yeah, you 'hm' away. Baby and I will have a wonderful conversation about all the child-proof adventures we're going to go on as a trio."
"A trio?"
"What's her name, by the way? Does she have one? Because I have a baby name list somewhere…let me find—"
"Akela," Geralt said. The name rolled off his tongue, the only familiarity about this situation that brought an ease to his battle-hardened soul. He'd spent countless nights since he'd found her, on his back, the baby sprawled across his chest as she slept and he whispered the name to himself, wondering how many more times he'd speak it.
"Huh," Jaskier said, obviously finished with his mental criticising of the name the witcher had chosen. "That's good enough. Though I think Jaskier Jr. has more of a ring to it."
