A/N: I seriously thought I have this story as complete and it wasn't. Hope you'll enjoy the last chapter of the The Witcher.
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Chapter 5
Someone who cares (whom I love)
Geralt steps into the tavern, where it all began. Where they met for the first time.
Which currently, Jaskier was leaving in a huff through said tavern's door into the dark fog outside.
Geralt rushed after the retreating colorful bard. The darkness was swirling around them again and Geralt would not be kicked out until his bard was free from himself.
"Jaskier! I'm sorry!" he blurts out.
Fortunately said bard stops.
Yet the bard's next words make him do the same, "You weren't there."
The Witcher's breath stutters for a moment and glares at the ground.
"I—you're right. I should have been," he growls in frustration, "And not just then. But every time you turned to me for anything and only received shouts for silence and wishing to be alone."
When Jaskier turns to face him, Geralt blinks at the piercing blue eyes as confusion and exasperation spins around them faster each second.
"No! I meant like…" he bites his lip, distracting Geralt for a second before listening again, "Like there is something important that happened here."
Jaskier waves his arms, calming part of the knot in his chest, "A rushing river being held back by a deteriorating dam, pushing and pushing against its breaking branches until everything is crashing down."
At the last words, he claps loudly dramatically, which Geralt didn't even flinch.
How I miss his stories, he thinks to himself, but out loud, Geralt says, "Sounds kind of dangerous."
"True. Pretty painful, but I know it will be a beautiful sight to behold. Everything I ever dreamt when I decided to become a traveling bard."
His beaming face was almost like a punch and somehow understood what he was saying.
"Very brave to take such risk," Geralt offers. Jaskier shrugs and looks around him, seeing something beyond the growing dark fog.
"What is life without risk? Adventure and heartbreak and all that. Besides, with you here, I bet everything will be fine, Sir Witcher."
That would be the onions he thinks fondly, but seeing the continuing beaming face, and the fog rises up to become a storm, bringing up a reminder of the pain of said face from that forsaken mountain and later the desperation to the point of destroying himself.
All because of him.
"But you did had that and it was like you said," he glares back down at the ground for a moment, but looks up to show his sincerity to the other, "You might not remember now and while I wish you didn't so you wouldn't be in pain, I know you are no coward and had chosen death than to let anyone take everything you are away from you."
It was silent, like a breath being held back, a moment so fragile.
Please, please, don't leave us, Ciri wants you. I need you. I want—
Hesitantly, enough for Jaskier could take it back, Geralt lifts up Jaskier's hand and drops a coin into it. Yet he doesn't let go of the hand that now clutches the coin in confusion.
"What am I to you, Sir Witcher?" Jaskier asks with coy, hiding his uncertainty.
His grip tightens, but without causing pain to Jaskier, Geralt whispers, "You called me your best friend in the world, yet I deny such claims."
Geralt swallows his dry throat before letting slip a small smile, "Because you are more than that."
"More how?" Jaskier whispers back, leaning forward.
The two stand only a step between them. Geralt raises his free hand to cup Jaskier's face whose eyes half closes, ignoring the returning storm, building up for better or worse.
"So much more. I am willing to not only make it up to you from hurting you all these years, but a chance to be together as long as we walk this world."
"And after?" Geralt felt more than heard the breathed whisper.
"When we meet again, it shall be forevermore," Geralt leans his forehead toward Jaskier.
"Fuck," Jaskier utters. Longing and agony went on hand with hope and relief as they leaned forward and their lips brushed.
Then Geralt felt cold.
Opening his eyes, Geralt found himself alone in the darkness. Nothing was present.
And no one.
He spins around and finds himself sitting up in fear. Gasping for breath, he quickly takes stock of his surroundings.
Warmth.
A soft light from the open window.
And something was clutching his hand.
He looks down and realizes it was more like he was clutching someone else's hand.
The witcher looks up and sees the blushing bard, barely rising his head from his position on the bed.
"Do you remember me?" he whispers in undisguised hope.
The bard gave a weak smile, "Three words or less?"
So relieved, Geralt couldn't be blamed when he blurts out, "I love you."
They stare at each other for a long minute as the words are processed.
Jaskier was the first to move and it was to bury his burning face into his pillow which the witcher feels the same urge to do.
Geralt could hear Jaskier whine, "Of all the things you're articulate for."
"Only when I'm with you," Geralt responds in faked annoyance, but a smile betrays it that Jaskier catches when he looks up again.
"Geralt! You're killing me," Jaskier whines. He tries to rise from the bed, but winces in pain.
The good humor between the two leaves, reminding them what transpired in the time they last spoke. Geralt's eyes linger on the bandaged back and the scarred hand within his.
"You remember when I said how I love the way you brood?"
Geralt looks up from their clasped hands, to stare at the shaky grin.
"There is a time and place. Speaking of which, you do know I would have forgiven you, more so when you do your apologizing and all that. Doesn't mean I am rejecting that oath you said about making up to me for the rest of our lives. That is if you're still willing. Not that I don't believe you wouldn't keep your word. I just don't want it to be a duty or—"
With just a kiss on the knuckles of the grasped hand, Geralt cuts through Jaskier's panic rambling.
He stares head on at those bright blue eyes. This time he let his emotions overwhelm him.
Memories of how the firelight gave said eyes a mischievous glint as Jaskier told him a story with obvious lies just to amuse him, his expressive hands to demonstrate his vicious vengeance and how he will ruin those "ungrateful heathens for not seeing a true knight," or the rare quiet moments in the Path where just being together was enough.
Showing and caring Ciri was only possible because Jaskier was there to teach him. After today's explosion of so many feelings, he cannot return to suppress them. Geralt knows without a doubt he cannot live without Jaskier.
(But if he wants to leave him, Geralt would not hold it against him and would let him go along with part of his own heart.)
"If it was a duty, it would be my greatest honor to fulfill, but this is not. I want this and as long as you do as well, this is forever."
While Jaskier's tightened grip was weak, it meant so much for Geralt's heart.
"AWW!" Ciri squeals.
They both turn and see Triss and Ciri matching large smiles and Yennefer huffing in fake annoyance. Although Geralt can tell she is barely able to suppress a small smile.
Nothing is ever smooth sailing so to speak. There are ups and there have been downs in the few weeks the five stayed recovering in Yennefer's cottage.
"-Ah….talking too much, sorry," Jaskier stops with a sheepish smile, midway into the story of how he met with Triss and wrote her a song.
Geralt tilts his head and gives a small smile, "Like…listening to you."
"Just tell me when to be quiet and I will," Jaskier fiddles with his fingers, stopping himself reaching for his coin lying on the table next to his bed by the pained look he gets when he tries to. Despite now able to sit up with the help of many soft pillows more extravagant as the next one, courtesy of Yennefer, Jaskier could not leave the bed for a day yet.
In response, Geralt stares blankly, but a pained faint wrinkle between his brows betrayed it.
"Shouldn't have said that."
"Well, you cannot be holding yourself back on my account all the time either," Jaskier crosses his arms with a pout.
"Hmm," he hums and shrugs, "Take advantage of it until then. Been quiet too long."
"Quiet? Even with Ciri?" Jaskier asks incredulously. The girl could have not possibly changed that much from the time he used to visit her, had she? Then again what Ciri went through, anyone would have raged or quietened.
Geralt shrugs, but lets slip that smile that comes so often as of late. Better yet some of those are meant toward him! What a day to be alive!
"Knew it was worth it!" Jaskier ignores his questioning look and thinks about composing the giddiness of being with Geralt.
He hums and closes his eyes. He can smell the flowers and the scratching grass under his feet and the smell of distant rain…
"Jaskier?" the voice woke him up.
He blinks and stares at Geralt's worried frown in confusion before turning in fear.
Before he goes into full panic, Geralt moves from his seat to Jaskier's bed to wrap his large hands into Jaskier's slightly smaller, but longer fingers. The warmth from his side grounds him to the present.
"Sorry, my mind can be tricky at times," Jaskier breathes, taking in the firewood, chamomile, Roach and stable smell.
"If you can change the Continent's opinion over me, anything is possible," Geralt whispers, he places the coin into his hands.
Jaskier scuffs, yet his tensed shoulders loosen while Geralt makes circle patterns with his thumbs over his hands which cover the worn coin, "You made it easier for being you."
"Hmm," Jaskier felt Geralt's hum vibrate throughout his whole body and finally slackens into the Witcher's side.
Just as sleep pulls him again, Geralt whispers, "I'm your Witcher and you're my Bard."
The bard hums happily and just listens to his slow beating heart, lulling him to sleep.
"Rest. I have you, Jaskier."
It was their last day of hiding from the world where a war is brewing, dark soldiers searching and destiny's call can no longer be ignored. Yet they know together everything will be bearable and face them head on without being alone.
For now, the bard and the princess, brother and sister make up lyrics to the amusement of the two sorceresses and the lovesick witcher.
"Together we sing," Jaskier began to sing, thrumming his lute.
Ciri grins and sings, "Of a better time!"
"What tomorrow will bring!" the two duet together.
For a moment there was silence and Jaskier turned to Ciri with a raised eyebrow. She gapes at him before turning to their audience to sing, "We have nothing to rhyme!"
"Now that's a pity!" Jaskier follows through, but remembering their impromptu lyric making sessions from long ago, the two go on to sing and giggle.
"Our silly little ditty/ Ever so bitty."
Yennefer snorts and laughs while Triss giggles at their antics, but the two were only looking at Geralt in askance.
"Your voices complement each other," he chuckles when the Ciri and Triss cheer while Yennefer shakes her head in mock disappointment.
"That's more than three words," Jaskier whines, but his eyes shine in amusement and pride.
They kept staring at each other, smiling, only to get interrupted by Ciri tugging on Jaskier's sleeve, "Let's do another one, but with your first song!"
"Indeed! I have a promise to keep," Jaskier taps on Ciri's nose, ignoring Geralt's groan. He carefully places his lute on Ciri's lap.
She looks up in awe before shyly smiling, "I played it before when I took your lute back while you were...gone."
"And my beloved lute was in good hands until she returned to me," Jaskier leans forward, "Now let's finally fulfill our promise."
Together they began;
"When a humble bard
Graced a ride along
With Geralt of Rivia
Along came this song..."
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A/N: And that wraps the story up. Thank you for reading, LaniAhava out!
