See Me Differently, I Beg You(Alpha!Geralt x Omega!Jaskier)

-Old Tricks-

"Now, bear with me, it's been quite a while since I've last used my magic." Jaskier cleared his throat. It was early in the morning, fog still hanging heavy over their camp. Dew clinging to the grass. Yennefer had brewed him a simple tea to help settle his stomach, as that morning's sickness had just about wrecked him. Geralt asked her for the recipe later on. When Jaskier was out of earshot.

"You're stalling, lark." Geralt grunted, saddle bags all packed up and ready for their journey.

Jaskier huffed. He absolutely was not stalling. Just didn't want to get either of their expectations up. He spotted Yennefer lightly smacking Geralt's arm, likely telling him to be patient. Now, Jaskier wasn't going to lie, he still felt a smidge jealous seeing her around the Witcher. But, as it were, Geralt had two hands....

He cleared his throat, leaning back against the log behind him. The magic used to come so easy to him, back when he was a lad. Back when he couldn't handle himself in a scrap. Couldn't hold his own. Now he didn't need to. He had his wits, his charm. His Witcher. His knife. He could skin a man if he so needed-of course he'd rather not, especially considering his state.

Back then it was as easy as plucking petals from a flower. But this was now. And he was growing steadily frustrated.

"Don't stress yourself with it." Yennefer told him gently, "You'll only frustrate yourself."

Jaskier groaned, laying his head back against the wood. "I used to be able to grow giant flowers with just a thought, you know. Should have seen it. Buttercups the size of my head!" Maybe he had grown too comfortable as of late. He admits he hasn't had a need for his powers ever since Geralt came along. And that was, what, decades ago? He was out of practice is all. "I just need to keep trying."

He looked up at the trees, pout on his lips. A songbird sat among the branches. The bright plumage caught his eye.

"Oh." Jaskier's face lit up, "There's one thing I can definitely show you." Jaskier pulled himself up, seating himself on the log instead of against. He made himself nice and comfortable, rolling his shoulders. Which wasn't necessary, but nonetheless.

Geralt quirked a brow before glancing to Yennefer who, unsurprisingly, looked genuinely curious.

And then came the birds. About a dozen or so. Blue and singing. All of them now gathering around the positively giddy bard. "Oh! Oh it still works!" He was thrilled, holding out his arms for the small song birds to take perch. "My little lovelies, aren't you precious?" He shared with them a whistle, which they each sang back.

Jaskier giggled, "I have my own little entourage." A grunt from the Witcher made him look away from his birds, just quick enough to catch that glint of a smile. His cheeks turned pink, the birds ruffling their feathers at his state.

"Suppose if you had antlers like a full leshen they'd all perch on them." Yennefer chuckled, "That'd be a sight." And it was such an innocent phrase. Nothing meant by it. She couldn't possibly know. And yet the memories dragged themselves up regardless. Jaskier's eyes turned glossy, distant. The smile on his lips losing all feeling and now nothing more than mechanical. Geralt could see it in his eyes.

Jaskier used to have such a gorgeous set of antlers back in the day. When he was just a boy. And where were they now? Mounted above the Earl's mantle like a trophy. Taken from him. Leaving long since faded scars where they once resided. And he had to walk by that damned mantle every day until he was shoved out. From his mother's letters he learned that they had actually grown over the years, and sprouted beautiful flowers from time to time. She always wrote to him when that happened. He wondered what else they sprouted. What she decided was better left unsaid.