Lute

A/N: Akela is about 15 here.


Summary: Akela plays Jaskier's lute.


"For the first time in my life, I genuinely want to throw my lute in the ocean."

Geralt hummed as he tossed the fish net in the water. "Do our future selves a favour and don't pass yourself up on that."

"I mean, do you hear that noise?" Jaskier whispered harshly so Akela couldn't hear, as though that was at all possible with the caterwauling sound she was pulling from his lute behind them. "My beautiful, beautiful instrument sounds like a shrieking cat." He turned as a particularly grinding twang sounded, his mouth dropping open as Akela seemed to ponder over what went wrong before evidently giving up and returning to her...music.

"Gods," Jaskier said more to himself than anyone, "that girl is tone deaf."

Akela, who had been sat cross-legged on the ground for the past half hour, strummed some deplorable tune on Jaskier's lute that she seemed to think was ethereal. It was, in fact, anything other than that. Jaskier had never heard such an ear-splitting sound, and it pained him to see this heinous crime undertaken on his most beloved possession.

"Don't I sound good, Jaskier?" Akela called, pausing her strumming for a second to shoot him a wide grin. "I could be a bard, too! We can travel together!"

Jaskier was remarkably lost for words for a mere ten seconds. He sucked in a deep breath before forcing the biggest smile he could, tossing his hands up in the air for emphasis. "That's an absolutely—brilliant idea, Akela!"

He could see the excited twinkle in her eye even from where he was standing, and he felt his inner walls crumble at the sight of it. He loved her to absolute pieces, but in this moment, as she returned to her playing, the notes emanating from his lute not even accounting to music, he was very pleased to return to his earlier statement.

"Ocean," he said as he returned to Geralt. "Now."

Geralt chuckled under his breath, drawing in the fish net as he shook his head. "You really don't know?"

"Know what—oh, look what she's doing! Akela, Akela—don't press hard on the strings, they're delicate."

Geralt put his hands on his hips, glancing between his sneaky child and the oblivious bard. "She's doing it on purpose, Jaskier."

Jaskier paused. "Sorry?"

"She knows she's shit. She also knows how to press all the right buttons. I would get the infuriating thing back now before she snaps the strings."

The silence that ensued after that revelation was a blessing.