middaeg | ( SEMI-OPEN ) march catch-all

[ Why? Wasn't it obvious? Geralt stares at Jaskier. The truth is, his mind is not haunted all the time. There have been moments of calm. Here, especially, with Yennefer and Jaskier both by his side and...for awhile, it was calm.

But after what happened—he can't focus on the best of days. Which bodes poorly for any peace in the night. ]

Aren't you? You should be.

[ Jaskier has been getting better. Geralt has no desire to interfere with that by forcing him to witness what the boys of Kaer Morhen went through. It's too close. Too close to home.

He knows Jaskier doesn't understand. That's the way it should be. Because when Jaskier finally does understand, that will mean it's been too late. ]

[It was obvious, but it wasn't. Geralt wasn't forthright about his past, after all; Jaskier had pieced it together over years.

He falters for a moment where he previously wouldn't.]

I am. I am, actually, but if you think I'd rather you have to hide away for fear of scaring me -- [He pauses, frowning.] Well, you're bloody wrong. I'll go sleep somewhere else if I have to. Geralt, it's more your home than it is mine.

[ Surprise crosses his face. Jaskier has been a fixture in his life for a long time. Inviting him into the house had been almost thoughtless, in the same way he'd thoughtlessly wandered into Jaskier's cottage without knocking. Borrowed his coin without asking, drank his beer.

He frowns, but leaves that comment unaddressed in the end. For now, at least. Besides, proximity isn't the issue. It's timing—and that's the reason he catches his rest during the day, when they're awake, and wanders when they're asleep. ]

You know I don't consider much a home. [ A place to sleep. That's all it is. It's not about the house or where he belongs. He's never belonged anywhere, except perhaps the mountains with the other Witchers. It's about who's in it, and that he knows is...Yennefer has made her feelings clear. So has Jaskier.

He looks away at the afternoon sun, low in the sky over the water. There's a long silence, before what's on the tip of his tongue finally bursts free. ]

Ever since you were—I fucking dream about it. [ It. He doesn't think to name it, the Trials. Fuck, he's probably said too much. ] I don't want you reliving the shit that happened to you from a trip through my head.

[The answer is disappointing. Not that he expected anything much, yet... he doesn't like it, that the Witcher simply accepts not having a home. And he certainly did, with Yennefer. The most either of them would allow themselves to have, apparently.

Burza was so quiet he grew suspicious. As Jaskier avoided Geralt's gaze, he peeks into the basket to check on her. Nothing wrong, actually. All that yelling must have exhausted her. Now she is curled up at the bottom of the basket, her paws tucked close.

Jaskier closes the lid again and leaves her be, trying not to swing the basket too much so she gets her rest.

And finally, Geralt says it. He gets to the heart of the matter.] So you're afraid for me. That's it? [It was hard to say. Whether simply that, or that he would viciously guard his past as well.] I hate to tell you I already relive it through mine. [That wasn't what he was getting at, though. He didn't know what it was he thought. That it didn't matter? It did. It would terrify him, he suspects.] I appreciate you trying to... save me from it. I do. But it won't change what I went through.

[ It's certainly both. Geralt has never been one to allow much of his past out. Those who know were those who had been there with him. That's all.

He's accepted, from the start, that Jaskier and Yennefer can both feel what he does, more intimately than anyone else. That's a choice he made when he agreed to bond. But there are a thousand shards of glass that make up his past and much of it, even Geralt hasn't really sorted through.

Though he won't admit that. If he even realizes it, consciously.

Still. Jaskier is the second person to pull him aside. To tell him that he's wanted at the house. It's difficult to say how that makes him feel, being told he's...missed. In a sense. ]

I'll be there tonight. [ He won't promise more than that. But at least he'll be nearby. ] This damn cat will keep us all up as it is.

[He is missed. Not only by him, as the bond has confirmed. Both of them look for Geralt in the night, knowing he's gone off somewhere. Though normally Jaskier is no stranger to waking up to find his friends have all fucked off to go after dragons without him, this is. Different.

It's because of him, which is odd. Irregular. Geralt being so careful around him doesn't suit.

In the end he's smiling, throwing it back at Geralt as he tucks the wrapped fish under his arm.] As you should be, you onerous ox. [It's a start. And if it does not work out, Jaskier can go elsewhere.] You say that with such a tone, but I suspect you're quite deeply in love with her. [He raises the basket a little.] Listen how quiet she is now. She may not be quiet long, but she's easy to tire out, I suspect.

[ A frown deepens at the claim that he loves her. ] Let's not go that far.

[ Despite his grumbling, he's poked a finger through the holes in the basket to scratch her on one small ear. She must be tired. Not even a stir. Hm. Maybe she was all right. (As if he hadn't especially gone into that shop to look for a cat and picked her out, paid for her, and put up with that man's suspicious interrogation over animal care.)

He thinks Jaskier has smiled more than today than he has in a week. So it's been worth the trouble.

They make their way back, Geralt quiet as they walk. He finds himself lingering on Jaskier's implication that the home is more his home than Jaskier's -- and it bothers him in a way he can't put into words. He mulls on it for awhile before revealing something he hadn't intended on. ]

At the new house, we found the conservatory. With all the instruments. The first thing Yen said was that you'd like it.

[ What he means to say, if not explicitly, is that Jaskier wasn't an afterthought. Not for either of them. ]

[Jaskier laughs. Of course he denies it. But who could not love her immediately with that face? And her one uneven ear. Her stormy coloring. Jaskier is completely enamored already. And how strange, for he's never sincerely fancied taking any cat under his wing.

It's the timing. The giver. And how badly a distraction he needs.

Jaskier is quiet, too, but at the very least he hums, fussing with the basket when he hears Burza begin to move around again. She's only rolling on her other side, and squints up at him with bright blue eyes, then gives a wide yawn and goes back to sleep.

Truly. How could one not love her? She's as lovable as Jaskier himself.

He tears his eyes from her when Geralt speaks again. At first, he sounds as if the subject comes up out of the blue. The conservatory? He --

Jaskier swallows. It's terrible, how volatile he is. His eyes prick with heat.] That absolutely cannot be the first thing she said.

[ Jaskier has many emotions. He feels each of them clearly; Geralt knows this long before they ever bonded, because it's not as if the bard has made it a secret. But feeling the surge of it now, he's not prepared—and it makes him look away. He's uncomfortable with his own emotions as it is, never mind feeling those from his friend as if it were his own. ]

Don't tell her. I prefer my head attached.

[ And Yennefer has an image she wishes to maintain. Still, he knows she's...warmed to the bard, in a way Geralt would've never guessed and yet isn't surprised by. Jaskier did grow on him, too, after all. Against all odds.

Now here he is. Giving the man a fucking kitten. Sharing a roof with him and Yennefer. A Witcher playing house, practically. He tries not to linger on that thought for too long. It leaves an uneasiness in his stomach—a sense that he's building something he's always been told, has always known, he's not meant to have. Some part of him will always be waiting for it to vanish sooner or later. ]

Edited 2021-03-31 02:56 (UTC)

[He barks a laugh, surprised and overwhelmed all at once. They had not exactly hated each other before Aefenglom, but there had been no love lost between them. Now he could not imagine not having at least a passing familiarity with the sorceress; the sort he holds with Geralt, meeting up with him throughout their years.

And he cannot forget what he owes her. How many lives he's almost lost, and only saved with her intervention.]

I wouldn't dream of it.

[As sure as Geralt can feel what goes through his head, he can feel the dip in Geralt's. Jaskier elbows him, pushing him towards the way home.] Speaking of the devil, let's head back and show her this terrible creature you've unleashed upon me. I may as well show her our home.

( SEMI-OPEN ) march catch-all

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