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Jaskier was ranting at him about music yet again, “Be honest with me Geralt, did you prefer the first version of this melody or the second?”
At least this wasn’t the worst subject that he could be blabbering on about. Geralt had some interest in hearing how he created his songs. It was a change from all the destruction Geralt was used to.
“Come on give me your thoughts.” Jaskier whined.
Oh, Geralt knew exactly what his thoughts were going to be. Getting Jaskier worked up was always so entertaining, “I thought the song in B minor was much too dreary, but G major was giving me a headache. Had you considered trying it in A major?”
“So you think you’re better at writing songs than me now, do you?” He said, throwing his arms open, still holding his lute.
Geralt shrugged, “Perhaps.”
“No! You can’t be better at music than me when you’re already better at fighting, identifying monsters and being ruggedly handsome. You can’t just leave me with only the one skill you can never top me in.”
“And what might that be?” Geralt had to restrain himself from chuckling.
“Well of course,” Jaskier paused dramatically as he jumped to his feet, “Dan-“ Abruptly; he fell limp to the ground.
Shocked, Geralt leaped up and drew his sword. He started to look for any signs of movement in the woods, seeing none, he glanced back at Jaskier. No signs of major injury, but the bard wasn’t stirring.
After he was certain the threat was gone, he started examining Jaskier closer. His first thought was that he was hit in the head with some sort of projectile, but Geralt had no memory of hearing a collision.
Then he saw it. On the back of Jaskier’s leg was a small circle, the end of a Sarturian dart. At the very least, Geralt could be confident the threat was actually gone. To his knowledge a Sarturian assassin will only strike with another able person present. Geralt started to reach remove the dart, but reflexively jerked his hand away before he got close. He hated seeing the dart in Jaskier’s leg, but at the same time he was fucking terrified of it. It looks like the only choice he had was to get Jaskier up on Roach and ride back to that last town. At least the healer there seemed somewhat competent.
The doctor pulled the dart out with her bare hands, “Each dart becomes inert once its curse has been set in motion. The Sarturian Monastery Assassins have a very strict moral code as you know. Can’t have one of their darts affect someone who’s not their target.”
“Well it looks like they failed on that account.” Geralt grumbled.
“Yes, a Sarturian curse does seem like a fail-safe way to kill a Witcher. Don’t have too many close relations do you?”
Geralt glared at her. “I’m sure there are many out there without a source of true love’s kiss. I don’t see how it’s more moral to only kill people who have no significant other.”
“It doesn’t have to be romantic love. I’ve heard many stories of a parent or a friend awakening someone who was cursed. Once, a woman’s husband couldn’t break her curse with a kiss on the lips. It seems their loved had evolved. He ended up to awakening her, but with a more platonic kiss. What the Sarturian Morals say is that it’s wrong to kill someone who loves and is loved equally in return”
“Well I suppose I’ll be finding out which of his loves is returned equally. It’s going to take some time though; I swear he beds a new person in every town we pass through. I guess I might as well start here. I believe he told me he slept with a woman a few streets away.” Geralt moved to lift Jaskier off the table.
“You won’t have forever. The curse does slow the body’s weakening, but it doesn’t stop it.”
“Well I better get started then,” Geralt said as he lifted Jaskier up and carried him out the door.
“Well maybe you ought to try…” But Geralt closed the door before the healer had a chance to finish.
Geralt knew what he was going to try. He was going to try every person Jaskier had ever been close to. If he could tolerate Jaskier, there must be someone out there who loves him.
He kicked at the door of the house he just arrived at and a young woman appeared, “Oh poor Jasky, what’s wrong?” Jasky? That’s one he hadn’t heard before.
“He’s cursed, a Sarturian curse. He needs-”
“True love’s kiss!” She interrupted, then dramatically brought her hand to her chest, “And you think I could break it?”
Well Geralt was starting to doubt it now, but she’s here, she might as well try. Or maybe not, she had turned to go back into her house, “Where are you going?”
“To show you where you can put him down. You don’t expect me to kiss him in your arms do you?”
“Yes I do. If your kiss works, it’ll work just as well right here as inside.” He had to be efficient about this.
“Fine” she sighed as she leaned down and placed a kiss on Jaskier’s lips. They waited a few minutes, but nothing changed.
“Okay then,” Geralt mumbled as he turned to leave.
“Well maybe if he was on a bed it would have worked!” God she’s insufferable; Geralt’s almost happy that it didn’t work.
One down, dozens left to go. He should really find a wagon. Can’t just be propping Jaskier up on Roach as they’re traipsing from town to town.
“… it was Ksenia of Ruinde who I…” Geralt sang to himself and quickly wrote down the name. He had been spending the night working through Jaskier’s songs. Luckily Jaskier had a book and a pencil he could use to write his list. The book! It was full of Jaskier’s lyrics! He flipped back through the earlier pages and took note of any lover he could find. When he was done he had a list of 31 names. From a practical standpoint, they were lucky that the dart struck Jaskier and not him.
The next weeks were full of frustration. If he wasn’t getting doors slammed in his face, then he was witnessing kisses that yielded nothing but disappointment yet again. All that nonsense led him here, the last name on his list. There was no question that Jaskier would wake up here. He had just hoped it wouldn’t come to this.
Geralt took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Get in here fast!” He heard a woman yelling frantically from the other side.
Confused, he quickly entered the small house. “Thank god!” the young woman cried as she shoved something into his hands. She then darted over to what appeared to be a large pot with the contents clearly ablaze.
As she took the pot off of the flames and started beating out the fire, Geralt realized what he was holding had started wriggling. He looked down to see a small baby, its face wrinkled up, clearly not happy to be held by a strange man. Geralt didn’t want the infant to start wailing, adding to this chaos. So some base internal instinct he wasn’t aware he had kicked in and he started quietly singing a slow song. Thankfully the baby didn’t start crying; though it looked more confused than comforted.
Once the fire was put out, the woman made her way toward him, “I swear I was a much better cook before this rascal started crawling.” That quieted Geralt as she took the baby from him. “That’s one of Jaskier’s songs isn’t it? I’m actually his sister, Margisia, and this little fellow is the nephew he hasn’t met yet.” She started cooing and kissing the baby’s chubby cheek as he gurgled happily, “Jaskier has no idea what you look like does he, Lucjan?”
“Well-” Geralt started.
“Oh you probably already knew that. Came here because of him didn’t you? He’s not dead is he?”
“No, but-”
“I hope you didn’t come here trying to win him back. I’ve told a number of men and women, ‘I’m just his sister I don’t know anything about what he wants in a lover’. We aren’t that kind of siblings.” She joked.
“No, if I could just-"
Margisia interrupted again and Geralt was starting to see the family resemblance, “Hell, you’re Jaskier’s Witcher aren’t you? I just noticed you’re a Witcher, all the smoke really must have got in my eyes. I don’t know why else a Witcher would be knocking on my door. This can’t be good can it? You said he’s not dead right?”
“He’s not dead yet, but he may be on his way there.”
“Shit, where is he?”
“He’s out in my wagon.”
“Well bring him in! I’ll show you my bed.”
As Geralt laid Jaskier on the bed, he noticed how much lighter he was feeling. Geralt tried to give him as much water and broth as he could take. But even with his metabolism slowed by the curse, it felt like Jaskier didn’t have much longer left. This had to work. Someone in Jaskier’s family must be able to break this curse.
Margisia sat on the edge of the bed with the baby on her lap. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked as she stroked his hair.
Geralt explained the Sarturian curse, “I’ve tried every lover of his I can think of, so that leaves familial relations. If you or one of his other family members kisses him you should be able to break it.”
“Well, our Mother died two years ago and our Father when I was twelve. I don’t think there’s anyone else but me.” Geralt noticed tears starting to build up in her eyes.
“Would you want some privacy?” He started to move toward the bedroom door.
“No, you can stay. I don’t want to do this alone”
Geralt watched her shakily lean forward and gently place a kiss on his forehead. They both waited with baited breath. But Jaskier didn’t awaken. Geralt couldn’t believe it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Tears were streaming down Margisia’s face now, “I thought just being his sister might be enough, but we were never that close. We’re eight years apart in age! He left when I was nine! I love him, but more as the abstract concept of an older brother. If my kiss wasn’t enough and all those lovers weren’t enough and your kiss wasn’t enough…”
“My kiss?” Geralt was taken aback.
Margisia jerked her perplexed face around to look at him, “You haven’t tried to break the curse?”
He started mumbling, “I haven’t… We don’t…,” it was slowly hitting him what Margisia was suggesting. But no. They don’t have that kind of relationship.
“Geralt listen to me. People who love each other may not kiss all the time, but you know what they do? They travel to the ends of the earth to try to save each other. Please try to save him now.”
She was right. It didn’t make any sense to not try to break it himself. Geralt must love him in some sense if he’d put in all this effort so far. Loving Jaskier felt foreign to Geralt, but Jaskier simply had to have someone that truly loves him. Otherwise the world simply didn’t make sense.
Margisia placed her hand on his arm sympathetically, “Maybe you want to be alone?”
All Geralt could do was nod, still processing this situation. She closed the door quietly behind her.
He walked over and sat on the side of the bed. He’s doing this to save Jaskier, he told himself. The kiss would wake him up and everything would go back to normal. He took deep breath and touched his lips to Jaskier’s forehead.
Nothing happened.
Waves of devastation started coursing through his veins. This couldn’t be the end of Jaskier, not after all they’d been through.
Then, in the back of his head, he heard the healer’s voice, “Once, a woman’s husband couldn’t...” His thoughts began swirling, nights joking around the campfire, traveling through forests acting annoyed at the prattle but not missing the quiet, the undying urge to protect him.
The warmth hit his gut hard, then spread throughout his body drawing his face closer to Jaskier’s. He closed his eyes and sank into the kiss.
It was as if he could feel the warmth within him shift from his lips to Jaskier’s. Then Jaskier’s mouth twitched and opened slightly. He felt Jaskier’s hand slowly trace across his stomach. All that triggered an unparalleled happiness in Geralt. He knew he should stop and explain everything that’s happened to Jaskier. But surely another second like this couldn’t do any harm.
But then he felt Jaskier’s hand start to travel further south. He gently moved Jaskier’s wrists away from him and pulled back, “Now that seems a bit much doesn’t it?” He opened his eyes and just the sight of Jaskier looking back at him filled him with a joy he could hardly explain.
“Why do you always have to play hard to get?”
“Always?” Of course Jaskier had something to say that made no sense, just like always.
“I mean I know I find vaguely repressed you very attractive. But this is a sex dream; can’t we just get down to business?”
“Sex dream? Jaskier this isn’t a sex dream.”
“Listen, I have plenty of evidence that it is. One, I feel very weird. Two, you and I, Geralt and Jaskier, were just kissing. Three, we’re currently in my parent’s bedroom.”
“Okay, you have some fair points, but please just let me explain”
“Fine, but we’ll have to cuddle while you explain; I’m getting something out of this dream.”
“I’ll agree to that,” Geralt smiled fondly.
“See you’re much too excited right now. I’ve never seen you show this much emotion before.”
They shifted position, with Geralt’s arm ending up around Jaskier. Geralt began, “The reason you feel so strange is because you were cursed.”
“Okay that’s fairly believable considering our line of work. But how does that explain my parent’s house or the…“ Suddenly Jaskier turned to look at Geralt, “Holy shit, it was true love’s…?” Jaskier’s voice trailed off as Geralt nodded.
Jaskier grinned as he went kiss Geralt again. “You love me? I never thought in a million years.”
“Yes Jaskier, I do.” Geralt said softly.
“Wait, we’re we at my parents’ house. That means… Margisia! I’m awake come in! Come meet the love of my life,” he yelled.
As happy as he was Geralt had to roll his eyes at that, “We met when she let me in.”
“Well you weren’t the love of my life yet were you?”
She rushed in holding the baby on her hip with a cup of water in her other hand.
“I knew it would work!” she handed Jaskier the cup, “Here, you must be thirsty after all that. Jaskier, I was so worried I’d lose you until this numbskull over here told me he hadn’t tried to wake you.”
“Well he can be pretty stubborn, but I guess I forgive him because he loves me.” He gently nudged Geralt. “He loves so much that it broke a curse. God! this is going to be my best song yet.”
Geralt kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “We’ll discuss the song later.”
Jaskier drank the whole glass of water, then placed it on the ground. “Now that I’m done with that, Can I see this little fellow over here?”
“Of course,” Margisia said as she sat the baby on Jaskier lap.
“So sorry I hadn’t been around to meet this charming young lad yet. I guess that’s part of the reason why you couldn’t break the curse.”
“You’ve figured that out now have you? Well you could have come to see him.”
Jaskier grinned at her, “But maybe if you tried a little harder to love me…”
Geralt was in Jaskier’s childhood home, listening to him and his sister squabble. He was lying in bed with his arm around Jaskier and Jaskier’s hair brushing his cheek. Against all odds, here he was feeling the most content he’s ever felt. He was not completely comfortable with factoring the baby in Jaskier’s lap in to that equation quite yet, but he was completely comfortable with how Jaskier fit.