Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

The Passage of Time

It was 6 winters before Jaskier plucked up the courage. 6 years of Summers at the coast, Springs and Autums on the road hunting and singing and fucking, and Winters spent with the raggedy bunch of Witcher's in the cold but welcoming Kaer Morhen. It wasn't perfect, far from it, in fact more than once he and Geralt had argued about their lifestyle, but it was his life and he wouldn't swap it for any other. 
"Hey Grump, are we ever going to talk about that child surprise of yours?" Jaskier asked one night after a particularly exhaustive round with his Witcher, his head laying on his companion's firm chest. Geralt was pliant when worn out and tired, Jaskier had learned after all these years.
"What is there to talk about?"
"If you're ever going to claim them. Or even meet them..."
"Jas, this is no life for a chid. You know that."
"Like you wouldn't keep them safe?" Jaskier laughed, nuzzling further into Geralt's fuzzy chest and smiling when an arm came around him. "And-"
"No, Jaskier." Geralt said, and though his tone was gentle, it was firm, and he'd taken to only using the Bard's full name on occasions such as these. 
"But-"
"I said no." This time his tone was sharper, Jaskier knew if he pushed any further this would turn into a fight, and though they sometimes ended up fucking passionately, he was too comfy right now to want to move. So he sighed and let it go.

It became a tradition of sorts, for Jaskier, or a challenge. Every year, just once he would ask. Pulling out all the stops, puppy eyes, seduction, threats. None worked.
Year 7 it was 'No, now drop it before I have to shut you up by force.'
Year 8 it was 'I'm trying to sleep. Stop fretting and come here.'
Year 9 it was 'I'd like to see you try Bard. That training you've been getting from Lambert that you think i don't know about has made you cocky. I shall have to teach you a lesson."
Year 10 he'd simply thrown Jaskier's lute out the window.

"Geralt-" 
"No."Geralt sighed, putting his book down (something on alchemy from the looks of it) and rose an eyebrow at his companion. 
"You don't even know what i'm going to say." Jaskier pouted, crawling up the bed to seat himself in Geralt's lap, hands on his shoulders.
"You know you do it the same day every year right? It's getting easy to predict." Geralt sighed again, though this one came out more like a soft laugh, and looped his arms around Jaskier, hands clasping in the small of his back.
"No, Geralt, I think you should really think about it this time. Nilfgaard has had it's sights set on Cintra for a while now, and there have been whisperings, they intend to take the city. I know you think the child is safer out of your grasp, but if war comes, then the safest place is by your side, surely?" Geralt gave it long thought and then nodded. 
"I'll send a message to Moussack. Just to meet the child, and offer my protection you understand. Not permanent, not a promise, and i'm not taking it by force."
It was of course a long time before he did, as Jaskier had expected. Summer came around and finally he sent a missive, hoping to meet the mage on an 'urgent matter' and a location set. He begged Jaskier to stay back at the inn, his exact words being 'for fuck sake Jaskier, keep yourself safe for once', but the Bard was having none of it. 
"I go where you go. You know that." He stroked his smooth, lute playing fingers across the Witcher's scarred cheek and smiled softly
"It'll get you killed one day."
"Only if they get to you first, in which case i won't put up a fight." That had forced Geralt into silence. He had stared at Jaskier for what felt like forever, wondering whether to be angry, worried or pleased. He decided on all three. 
"Don't you ever. You hear me. You are worth too much to waste your life on mine. If something ever happens to me, you have to move on. Sing your songs and find a new love."
"Sorry sweetie but I can't promise that." Jaskier had smiled and pressed a tender and chaste kiss on Geralt's lips. The Witcher had closed his eyes and breathed in the smell and feel of his Bard, knowing somewhere in his heart that he wouldn't have been able to make same promise either.