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somethingqueerisgoingonhere · 5 months

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A snippet from a very long wip im working on, hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure this will work?” Geralt says nervously.

“Of course not,” Yen drawls, “if he rejects you, he rejects you.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” he growls as they step through the portal Yen had made and into a strange room filled with obscurities.

The room is filled with every color imaginable, shining and blinding in every corner.

“What is this place?” He asks Yen.

“You’ll see,” Yennerfer says, coming up to the front desk and ringing a bell that had been sitting unassuming on the counter.

Immediately a small man, about up to Geralt’s hips, comes walking in, so you can only see the top of his balding head, and hikes himself up into the chair, “what can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for a dagger,” Yennerfer says, “handmade.”

“That will take sometime,”

“As quick as you can, we’ll pay,”

“What kind of dagger?”

Yennerfer looks at Geralt expectantly, “broad, short, practical.”

“How romantic.” Yennerfer says snarkily, she turns to the man, “the hilt will need to be decorated quite lavishly with carvings and stones.” she turns back to Geralt, “have you picked a stone?”

Geralt remembers the small book Yen had passed him and the many worn pages of their significance and meanings, it felt overwhelming. He’d looked endlessly through the blue stones, wanting one the particular shade of Jaskier’s eyes but also with the right intent. There was one that made him think of nothing but Jaskier’s dancing eyes.

“Hotez,” Geralt says firmly.

“For his eyes, really?” Yen drawls.

The mans hums thoughtfully, “quite a meaningful gem, many cultures use it for love or honesty and I believe the elven meaning is ‘I can’t live without you’ or rather ‘our love is eternal’.”

Geralt can feel his face warming at Yennefer’s intense stare. “Well,” she says, “I’m glad you at least gave it some thought rather than picking a random one.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he growls.

“Wouldn’t you?”

The man cuts in, “Along the hilt? Would you like engravings as well?”

“Yes,” Geralt answers sure of himself, the engravings were the part he knew exactly what he wanted, “A wolf and a…” he looks at Yennerfer who arches an eyebrow at him, “a lark,” he finishes lamely.

She actually laughs, “Oh Geralt you’re simple but you’re sweet.”

“Is that supposed to be a complement?”

“That’s as close as you’ll get with me I’m afraid.”

Yennerfer pulls Geralt to the side while Jaskier and Ciri enter the dining hall.

“What?” he hisses.

She gives him a look that says don’t ever take that tone with me again and he listens, his tone is much more subdued when he asks “what’s the matter?”

“The dagger, it’s arrived, you can do this after all. Tonight. Come with me.”

“Yen,” Geralt calls after her figure leaving down the hall, “Yen!” He has no choice but to follow.

She brings him to her room and balks at the interior, “really? You used magic here? To make your room nicer?"

"What they had just wasn’t cutting it," she says shrugging.

"You know the point of the simplicity is to be humbled."

"Well I’m not exactly the humbled type."

He she tosses a paper wrapped package at him that he manages to catch, he frowns at her.

“Don’t look at me like that, go on, look at it, do you know what I had to pay to have this specially ordered and on a deadline and you just had to have one of the rarest stones-”

“Okay i get it,” Geralt says annoyed, “I’ll pay you back.”

“Please, like I need your money, besides I’ve seen what your salary looks like, I’d be dead before you could ever pay me back."

“Yen,” he says annoyed."

“Consider it a gift, for good will towards your love,” she waves him off but he feels a warmth pooling in his stomach.

He carefully unwraps the dagger, the paper rustling, as he reveals the blade of it, it’s broad like he’d asked and smooth. It shines brilliantly in the candle light, flashing as he turns it this way and that.

“The hilt,” Yen says, telling him to hurry up.

He unwraps the hit, met immediately with that striking blue that drew him in and he feels embarrassment crawl up his neck as he thinks of the stone’s meaning. “Do you think he’ll know what it means?”

“Someone as romantic and poetic as Jaskier? He’ll know what it means.”

Geralt runs a hand over the bumps of the crystal blue stones, shaped so their sides flash brilliantly and that’s when he turns it over and sees it, the carving of a wolf arched towards a bird, a lark.

“Well?” Yennerfer says.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Really what has he gone and done to you, you’re never this courteous."

“I really mean it Yen, for helping me with this, even if he says no, I know how much you and Ciri have put into this, it means a lot.”

“My gods he’s good for you, don’t you ever let him go if he says yes.”

“Don’t plan on it.”

“I’m serious."

“So am I,” he doesn’t buckle under her piercing gaze and when she’s satisfied she turns her attention back to the matter at hand.

Do you need to practice what you’re going to say? He makes a face at the thought of telling Yen what he’s been repeating in his head for days, “No.”

“Very well she says, and you remember what to do?”

He nods.

“Okay then here’s the last piece,” she waves a hand at her bed where there’s something draped on it, as he draws closer he can see it’s fine clothing, clothing that makes him want to die on his own sword to be seen in but finely made clothing of high grade silk and carefully embroidered, something Jaskier would love. “you weren’t really planning on going in your usual clothes?”

“Isn’t this a bit too dressed up for such a place?”

“You think he won’t be dressed up?" She’s right, gods he’s been saying that too often these days. “Besides Ciri and I will be dressed up also so you won’t feel alone."

Geralt feels the dagger burn against his skin through the pocket of his pants. Jaskier has just finished a set and walks over to him.

“Jaskier,” he draws Jaskier’s attention, those blue eyes turning to burn into his. He’s a little sweaty from all the movement but it’s not unpleasant, his hair a little mussed.

“Well aren’t you well dressed,” Jaskier says, an easy smile gracing his lips, “you must absolutely hate it,” he laughs, eyes creasing with his delight.

Geralt feels mirth rumbling up from his chest. This is Jaskier, he steadies Geralt even without meaning to do so.

“I bet Yen had to hold you down while she squeezed you into that. It must have been quite the sight,” there’s teasing to his voice and a glint in his eyes that holds Geralt captive.

Geralt’s voice is quiet to even his own ears, “Jaskier.”

“Yes?” Jaskier says, smile faltering.

“These two weeks have been amazing,” Jaskier stares at him with pure confusion, “I feel that I’ve grown to know you better than I ever have. And the more I’ve grown to know you, the more I’ve grown to appreciate your friendship.”

“You’re awfully talkative tonight,” Jaskier says, trying for another laugh to break the serious tone.

Geralt stares at him with a determination that rivals anything he’s ever felt in his life, “I have thought long and hard about my intentions towards you. There’s nothing that frightens me more than losing your friendship or your respect.”

“Geralt?” Jaskier looks scared now.

Geralt brings his fingers to his side, he watches how his fingers tremble as he unsheathes the silver dagger, the stone encrusted hilt flashes in the low candle light.

He draws it out before turning it in his hand, grasping the delicate blade and pointing the hilt towards Jaskier. He finally brings himself to look at Jaskier who’s staring down at the hilt offered up to him, eyes wide and glassy, mouth opened in shock. Geralt knows he’s completely caught him off guard.

The seconds stretch by painfully, drawing them both apart with each moment that passes. And then there’s blessed movement as Jaskier brings a hand up to grasp the hilt, and Geralt moves without thinking, pressing his palm into the sharp edge of the blade and pulling back quickly. The sting of blade biting into flesh barely phases him, only knows he’s done it because he can smell the copper in the air.

Jaskier’s eyes flick up to him, swimming with fear and trepidation, he looks so lost. Geralt wants nothing more than to rush forward, to embrace him. Geralt grits his teeth not because of the lowly stinging of his palm. He opens his fingers revealing the two slice marks welling with scarlet blood, it represents the seriousness of his proposition. Jaskier’s eyes drink in the cuts eagerly like he’s starving for the sight of it.

Geralt takes this as a good sign and drops his hand back to his side. It’s now time for Jaskier to make a decision. He must place the dagger back into the sheath on Geralt’s side and either leave it there in rejection and Geralt must not approach him again or unbuckle the sheath from his side and wear it himself. A sign that he’s being courted and not to be approached by any other suitors.

Geralt can feel the blood slicking his fingers and imagines it must’ve begun dripping to the floor.

Jaskier’s movements are stuttered as he brings the dagger to Geralt’s side, his hand grasped determinedly around the hilt. Feeling, Geralt imagines, the stones and their intent digging into his palm.

Geralt closes his eyes for a moment, listening painedly to the whispering of the blade against leather as it slides into the sheath. He opens them, staring into those cornflower blue eyes. The most beautiful color Geralt’s ever seen. He watches as Jaskier’s hand moves and prepares for him to draw it back to his side, for him to step back away. He hears it, not sees it, when Jaskier’s fingers pull at the buckle, metal tinkling in the air and the rushing of leather pulling free as it whisks through the buckle. And like that the firm pressure of the band around him slides away, held firmly in Jaskier’s delicate hands as he pulls it back to himself into Geralt’s eyeline. Geralt feels like it can’t be real, watches in a daze as Jaskier pulls the band around his hips, the sheath coming to rest against his side and shaky fingers bringing the buckle to meet the notched band before sliding it through and firmly buckling it. Geralt can see his fingers shaking, but Geralt can do nothing but stare as the downcast eyes flick up to his own, watching, waiting.

Jaskier gives him a hesitant smile, “did you really think I’d reject you? I don’t think there’s a world where that happens.”

And like that Geralt crumbles apart at Jaskier’s feet, leaping forwards to grab Jaskier around the waist and hoist him up into the air, spinning him. Jaskier’s laugh is pure delight. He stops, dropping Jaskier against himself, arms crushing him in a hug. Jaskier returns it, laugh sweet in his ear.

Then there’s Ciri’s shout, “he accepted!” And just like that they’re surrounded. The women of Alietza cooing over Jaskier, bustling him away from Geralt as they make him pull out the dagger so they may admire the jewels and intricate designs in the hilt, it’s then that Jaskier seems to notice the engravings, he runs his fingers over it admiringly just as Geralt had done hours earlier.

“Hotezes,” they gasp. “We hope your courting will prove fruitful.”

He feels like his legs are going to give out from under him from the way the adrenaline racing through him leaves him in a rush. And yet he feels more content than he’s ever felt in his life.

“Congratulations,” comes a sly voice behind him, he turns to meet assessing lilac eyes, “you managed not to fuck it up.”

“Yen,” he says with a smile on his lips.

“You’re both going to be disgustingly romantic aren’t you?” Yen asks, a look of disgust on her face and Geralt’s laughing. He’s laughing so freely that Yen’s face morphs into one of shock.

He’s suddenly blindsided by an armful of Ciri, she hugs him tightly, her arms around his neck, her hair tickling his nose. She pulls back, flushed and delighted, “Congratulations!”

“He’s only accepted my request to court him,” Geralt tells her seriously.

She punches his arm, not lightly, “yeah but this was the hardest part! Now you get to shower him with affection.”

“For Geralt that is the hardest part,” Yen says into her glass of wine.

“I’m not worried,” Ciri says, and her eyes are filled with something loving and kind that shines in the candlelight and Geralt feels his heart ache with the love he feels for Ciri.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier #geralt jaskier

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