Try, Please Try For Me

The Wedding

It's less than half an hour to the wedding and Geralt is once again pacing.

Servants came to their room early that morning to drop off Geralt's suit-- thank Melitele Lambert isn't here to see it because he would be cackling. Instead Geralt gets Eskel, who politely waits until he's actually wearing the suit to laugh at him. It's a deep blue-- not some horrible bright colour like he'd dreaded--but far too ornate for Geralt to feel anything but ridiculous wearing it. And it's one of those itchy expensive fabrics that's too much on his sensitive skin, making him want to tear it off every time he moves.

It'll be fine though, he just has to get through today and in the morning he and Jaskier can get the hell out of this place. Geralt can stomach one more day of stiff smalltalk and being gawked at like a raunchy art piece.

"How do you feel?" Eskel asks him, from his spot on the floor. He's in their meditative position, trying to brace himself for being around so many people.

"Nervous. Kind of like I'm going to throw up." He tugs at the ruffled fabric of his collar. "And ridiculous."

Eskel huffs, keeping his eyes closed, but still smirking slightly. "You look ridiculous dressed up like that. But then again, you always look ridiculous to me." His brother opens one eye just in time for Geralt to smack him on the back of the head, and he chuckles. "You'll be okay. You've fought half a kikimore nest with a stab wound in your stomach. How bad can getting through a wedding be?"

"Worse."

Eskel hums in agreement. They had both attended enough banquets over the years to know that people at formal events rarely had fun. And the more status you held the less enjoyable things were. Everything was for show.

"I just hope Jaskier is alright," Geralt says, wringing his hands together. He'd tried to find the man that morning, but the servants kept shooing him away, saying Jaskier was busy getting ready. Geralt wishes he could talk to him one last time before the wedding. Maybe that would somehow make him feel better.

"He'll be fine, he's got you looking out for him."

He does, Geralt thinks. The bard has somehow wormed his way into the witcher's heart after just two days of knowing him and now for some reason all Geralt wants to do is keep him safe. It's like his protective instincts saw Jaskier and decided to latch on.

Plus, he's...fond of him.

A knock at the door has both witchers turn their heads. Eskel quickly rises from his keeling position, and being the closest, opens it.

The Earl is standing on the other side, a small black box in his hands. "I require a moment with my son's betrothed, he says, stepping past Eskel as if he's no more than a piece of furniture.

Eskel just nods to Geralt probably wanting to get the fuck out of the room as soon as possible and says, "I'll see you out there, wolf," giving them a sideways glance as he exits into the hall.

Geralt crosses his arms over his chest, and leers at the Earl. "What is it?" he asks. He's long past trying to be respectful at this point.

"Just thought I'd wish you well before the wedding," the man says, simply.

Geralt raises an eyebrow. "And?"

"Give you this," he says, offering Geralt the box. "It's a courting gift, from my family to you. For after the wedding."

Geralt takes the box and gives him a somewhat painful "thank you." Then the Earl offers him a nod before turning back out the door and saying, "I'll see you at the reception, enjoy yourself."

Now alone in the room, Geralt stares at the box. It's extremely light, made from wood, and no bigger than the palm of his hand. It's probably jewelry or something else that he doesn't care for or need.