Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

Kaer Morhen

"We're here." Geralt grunted, gesturing up ahead, through the blizzard. The mountain rose of nowhere, grey stone of the crumbling castle barely distinguishable from the grey rock of the mountain walls, especially through the snow and in the dark. Now that they were finally here, Jaskier felt the panic rising up from his stomach like bile. Geralt's brothers, Geralt's family, Witchers... And he wasn't even meant to be here. And then there was the whole matter of their fucking, and what Geralt would tell-
"Don't worry." Geralt slapped his back a little to pal-like.  "It's just a bunch of 'crotchety and cantankerous' Witcher's." He smirked and Jaskier recognised his own words.
"You think you're fucking hilarious." He grumbled, turning his collar up against the cold and trudging ahead knowing that his Witcher would catch up.
"Goodnight Roach." Geralt sighed, patting the horses neck gently as he tucked her up in the stables. Jaskier wished he were as gentle with him sometimes. The great wooden doors to the dining hall creaked open under Geralt's shove and the two of them skirted inside, shutting them tight behind. The cold had not penetrated this room yet, there was a huge fire at the far side of the room, in front of a winding tree that poked up through the flagstones, and lining the walls there were other such fires. Candles were lit on the tables too, but some had gone out when the wind had gushed through with the opening of the door. The space was, shockingly, empty. 
"Hello? Witcher, Witcher in the hall, come out, come out wherever you are." Jaskier shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. It echoed around the space eerily. Geralt smacked him none to lightly in the arm and while the Bard rubbed at it a figure stepped out from the shadows. He looked a little like Geralt in the way that his hair was white and his eyes a similar yellow-gold, but the resemblance stopped there as he was considerably shorter and stockier. There was however, the typical Geralt-style scowl on his brow.
"Vesemir" Geralt smiled, strange to see him smile without hesitation, Jaskier thought. So this was the father then. The two shared a brief but real embrace and then Vesemir's gaze flicked over to Jaskier and the scowl was back.
"Geralt." He said through gritted teeth. "Who is the grinning twit? And what possessed you to bring him here, do you not remember what happened-" He stopped himself short of presumably revealing something 'secret' and dropped his voice. "Explain yourself."
"I uh-" Jaskier had never seen Geralt look so flustered, but even then it was mostly hidden behind a schooled expression. "This is my- " He stopped himself and Jaskier wondered what he was going to say, just to hear 'my' had his heart racing. "This is Jaskier. My Bard."
"Yours huh? Have you asked how he feels about being owned?" Vesemir smirked, slightly lighter than before but still wary by the looks of it.
"Well he hasn't complained so far." Geralt said with an underlying tone that Jaskier couldn't quite understand, although his hand did flutter to his neck and graze over the red marks there as he thought of the last time he and Geralt had given over to each other completely. Geralt was right, he hadn't minded being owned, he still didn't. If Vesemir saw this unconscious gesture, he didn't comment on it. "He can be trusted Vesemir. You know I would not endanger us or this place."
Something went unspoken between them. Vesemir relaxed visibly, but he had the same bristly tone as Geralt even when not annoyed. It must run in the family. I can't wait to meet the others, Jaskier thought sardonically.
"The others are sleeping, try not to wake them." Was all the older Witcher replied, not offering a proper greeting to the Bard; it was to be expected, Jaksier would get that blessing though, he would work at it every day he was here. Vesemir didn't ask about setting up another bed, so Jaskier had the feeling he knew they were... well, what were they? Lovers? Companions?
"Geralt talks very highly of you." Jaskier said as his Witcher began to walk off. "Well, more grumbles highly of you, but i'm sure you know-"
"He's not much of a talker." Vesemir nodded. "But it seems you've got him opening up. Whatever you are to him, you should know he will never be what you're looking for." 
"He already is. He doesn't need to laugh or open up or god forbid start treating my like some damsel with gentle words and kind deeds. I'll have him just as he is. A miserable bastard with a death wish." Jaskier said rather defensively. Whatever reaction he'd been expecting, he didn't get it; Vesemir let out a hearty laugh and grinned at Geralt who had turned to see what the fuss was about. It had been some sort of test. And Jaskier knew now, he had passed.