The Witcher (One shots)

The Pain Love Brings.

(Geralt x Jaskier)

Jaskier is a little disoriented, when he wakes up. When he wants to run a hand across his face, he can't. He's a little disoriented and vastly uncomfortable. He can't place the banging in his head – hangover? Bar brawl? Did someone hit him over the head with a mallet? He tries to remember what happened... He sang in a tavern, the usual. He left when they kept asking for a song about the White Wolf, the usual. After that, things get a little fuzzy.

Jaskier cracks his eyes open, and ah. He's a little disoriented, vastly uncomfortable, and tied to a chair in a musty prison cell and possibly torture dungeon. That sums the situation up sufficiently, he surmises. So, that's... not quite the usual.

There's a gruff man standing in front of him behind the iron bars of his cell, possibly a noble. Off the top of his head, Jaskier can think of fourteen reasons this noble could have to be angry with him.
“Ah,” Jaskier says, “kind sir, is this your living room? It's... homely. Ever think about redecorating?”
The man grunts. Right. Jaskier can work with that. He has years of practise.
“Now, I don't mean to sound rude, but I don't remember tying myself to this chair and frankly, I don't remember wanting to ever tie myself to a chair and if I'm honest, it doesn't agree with me. But if you could just undo these binds and let me walk away, I'll be willing to accept that the ale yesterday brought out hidden depths to my personality and never speak to a soul of it.”

The stranger uncrosses his arms and fixes his gaze on Jaskier.
“I don't think so, bard,” he says with a low voice. Jaskier struggles a bit against the ropes, but they're wound too tightly around his wrists. There's no way he'll come free.

“Not that I don't feel honoured that you've gone through all the trouble of kidnapping me,” Jaskier says and flashes a smile, “I've got to say, that's a first, even for me. I'm just a humble bard. What could you possibly want from me?”
There is no way Jaskier will free himself of these binds, but the man hasn't put a gag on him yet. And Jaskier has talked himself out of worse before. Well. Not necessarily worse. It had never been quite as bad as this before. I mean, kidnapping? Really?

He feels terribly tired, suddenly. Tired at the pain. Tired at the audacity. And where the fuck is his lute?
“There's something I want,” the man drawls, “and I've heard that you've gotten awfully chummy with it in recent years.”

“You – you're not talking about...” The name hurts to say, “Geralt. Are you?”

“The Butcher of Blaviken. The witcher. My son's killer. Ring any bells?”
“Ah,” Jaskier says. It's not enough that Geralt is haunting him in every tavern he sings in and every night in his mind when he's trying to sleep. Bloody bastard. “And why, pray tell, do you think he cares about me?”

Boy, has he got the wrong idea, Jaskier thinks bitterly.
“I've heard the songs, the ballads,” the stranger says and walks a little closer. “The bard is the witcher's trusty companion.”
Jaskier closes his eyes. The roaring in his head, the binds, it all hurts immeasurably, but none of it hurts as bad as this. He's Geralt's curse. His nuisance at best. Companion not so much. Jaskier allows himself one quiet but deep sigh before he wrenches his eyes open again.

“Ah, I'm afraid those songs are... not an entirely accurate representation of reality,” he says.
Should have known that would come back to bite him one day.
“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier says and he savours the name in his mouth like the bite of something he loves to eat but is horribly allergic to. “There's nothing wrong with embellishing the truth a little. I met him. Once. Years ago. That's it. He probably won't even remember me.”
Maybe Geralt will pretend not to remember, should they ever meet again. Like they truly only met once and never saw each other again. Geralt of Rivia doesn't apologize. And he doesn't do feelings. Not where Jaskier is concerned, anyway. And Jaskier's not as young and starry-eyed and stupid as he once was. This time, he'll... take the hint. (Maybe he is still stupid, because he thinks he would take the marring to his soul if he could just see Geralt one more time, sitting there in the corner of the tavern. Just lonely in that tragic self-destructive way of his. And Jaskier would be content just to watch him, because he knows by know that nothing he does will be able to fix Geralt's loneliness.)