doesntsing | open post

It's hardly imposing when this is exactly what the family needs - Yennefer and Geralt just happen to suck at asking for help. So when Midge offers to come by, she's doing them a big favor. Yennfer asks her to come in the morning, that way she can watch over Jaskier after Geralt and Ciri are gone and Yen can concentrate on developing the potion.

When Midge makes it to the address Yennefer gives her, she'll find a typical Manhattan house. Realistically, newbies like them shouldn't have been able to acquire such a house so quickly. But the place was haunted and barely standing when they arrived; the owner was desperate to get rid of it. So they got it for cheap by throwing an exorcism for free.

It went from 'barely standing' to 'gorgeous' thanks to Yennefer's magic, and the previous owner hates them for it. Inside, Midge will find a very nicely decorated house that shouldn't surprise anyone who has seen how Jaskier and Yennefer dress. They keep the 'average' looking exterior not to get more attention.

Yennefer gives Midge the quick rundown: kitchen on the first floor, a bathroom on each floor, bedrooms upstairs - Jaskier's the third one on the left. The room at the back of the first floor is the magic/potion room, so Midge should stay away from it unless she needs something, and then she should just knock and quickly step back for her own safety. The herbs and the flowers in the garden should be watched at a safe distance, too, unless she has a guide.

When Midge knocks on Jaskier's room, she'll hear a grunted 'yeah' as an answer. Inside, she'll find a mound of blankets on the bed, hiding an annoyed bard.

The inside of the house is impressive and Midge tells Yennefer so. Perhaps it’s sexist to presume that she’s responsible for the interior design. Jaskier might have had a hand in it as well.

Before she goes upstairs, Midge asks for a pot so that she can reheat the soup on the stove. It can simmer for a bit before she takes some to Jaskier. That done, Midge is lead to the sick bard’s room. She smiles at his response. Apparently he didn’t know she was coming over.

Midge opens the door a crack. “It’s Midge. May I come in?”

"Midge?" It takes his feverish head a second to process the information. He moves the blankets just enough to take a peek, revealing his hair to be a mess. She's a sight for sore eyes, yet he can't find the right words to express how happy he is to see her. Ugh, he hates being sick.

"I want to see you," he manages to say. The words are a bit slurred. "But don't want you to see this. Too nasty." He frowns. "Dunno how to do both." Definitely a bit delirious over the fever, just like Yen said.

She’s never seen his hair look this disheveled. He must be really sick.

“You could cut a hole in the sheet,” Midge offers, trying not to laugh. She steps into the room but doesn’t move any closer to the bed yet. “I promise I won’t judge you on how you look.”

"Everyone judges me on how I look," he instantly replies, definitely not calculating his words very much today. If he was rational, he'd tell her he could pass the cold to her and therefore to her kids. But he isn't. He desperately wants her to hold him. "Come onnnnnn, sit down."

A hand peeks out to point at the reading chair that Geralt left next to the bed last night.

Midge sits down on the chair, looking at the lump under the sheet and trying to keep her distance. She’d prefer that neither she nor her kids get sick.

“You’re really going to stay under there the whole time?” she asks skeptically. “How are you supposed to eat soup like that?”

"I'm not hungry," he replies with slurred words. However his body reacts to her tone, so he lowers the blankets down to his neck to at least show his face. He's very pale, with bags under his eyes and a runny nose. He offers a little smile at her, because that's the effect she has on him. "Hey, pretty thing. You're making me feel uglier than I already do."

“I made you some matzo ball soup, but you can eat it later.”

He looks bad, of course, but he’s sick. Midge has dealt with sick kids and a sick husband before. She feels a pang of sympathy and smiles back.

“Apparently this is more than just a typical cold?” she asks.

"...I do want to try your food." He pouts. Today is full of contradictions.

Jaskier waits for a gesture of disgust, but she doesn't even wrinkle her nose. Usually, he'd know her better, but the current dizzy state of his brain means he's having funny thoughts, like wondering if she bottled up her real reaction.

"Yeah. Fucker stung me. And now Geralt is doing that thing where he lets guilt make him look like a kicked dog. If he could pout, he would."

“He feels guilty?” Midge grins. “I guess he really does care about you.”

She has a look around Jaskier’s room, noticing that his lute has a prime place of honor. “I told Yennefer that your house is very nice.”

He nods. "Now he just needs to get better at showing it."

Jaskier's room is as nicely decorated as the rest of the house. Art hangs on the walls, he has a very large mirror, his own radio and record player, and a walk-in closet. His desk is cluttered with a bunch of piles of paper, plus a combination of both pens and quills.

He should thank her for the compliment, share a story about getting the house and all, but his brain is being dumb today. Jaskier frowns. "...did she drag you here?"

Of course he has a huge mirror. That’s the least surprising feature of the room.

Midge furrows her brow at his question. “No… we spoke last week to set up plans to get together and she told me that you probably hadn’t texted me back because of bad service on the monster hunt.” Was it desperate of her to even ask why he hadn’t texted her back? Jaskier technically didn’t owe her a response. “Then the next day she told me that you were sick and I asked her if it was alright to come see you.” A beat. “Maybe I should have asked you.”

Maybe he doesn’t want her here.

"Oh." Well, he feels silly now. When she says she should've asked, he immediately shakes his head, which doesn't help with his headache. "Nonono! I want you here. Seeing you makes me happy." Not even right now, just... in general. "I was worried they dragged you to be my nanny. Although you're much better than my old nanny. Gods, I hated that bitch." So much random rambling. Then his eyes widen. "Or maybe they're pranking me." He suddenly giggles. "I brought a girl to my room. I broke the rules."

Yes, he's implying she's the first lover in this world who has seen his house.

“Your nanny wasn’t some poor old granny?” Midge asks, smiling again. She’s glad that he wants her here.

“You did. Unfortunately for you, it’s not going to be a conjugal visit.”

Jaskier definitely seems loopy and out of it. Maybe it’s the fever.

"I wish. I could've outrun a poor old granny." He rubs his eyes as he thinks about the old days, the fever completely messing with his boundaries. "She wasn't even a nanny. I called her that to piss her off. And governess was harder to pronounce."

He laughs at her joke, although it quickly transforms into lots of coughing. "Would you believe me if I say I'm not in the mood? My whole body is sore. Even my pinky."

Midge raises an eyebrow when he says the word governess. “So she was more like a tutor?” Perhaps it’s wrong to try to get information about how he grew up out of him while he’s sick, but Midge doesn’t think she’s pressing too hard.

“I’m actually shocked,” she replies. “You must be on death’s door.”

"Mmm-mmh. Always with a ruler ready to smack." He winces at the memory. "Father liked how strict she was. I still wonder if he ever fucked her."

The same thing happens then: laughing ends up in a coughing fit. "Does that make you the angel that came for my soul?"

Despite not knowing his father or the governess, Midge doesn’t really want to picture that. “Was he unfaithful to your mother?” she asks.

Reaching out, she puts her hand to Jaskier’s head. He’s warm. “You’re not dead yet, are you?”

"He fucked as many maids as she fucked stable boys." He doesn't even sound sad or mad. It was expected - they had been an arranged marriage for power. Their only responsibility was to keep up the smiles in public.

Jaskier instantly melts under her touch, and a little happy sigh escapes his lips. Her question goes unheard. "Pet my head?"

“I see…”

No wonder he has such problems with commitment; neither of his parents were committed to each other. “What was your childhood like?”

The request is sweet and she can’t deny it. Gently, her hand moves back, smoothing down his hair. It’s sweaty and unkempt but still soft.

"Stuffy. Restrictive." He wants to think of more adjectives, but he continues to melt under her petting. As usual, her nails make his whole body shiver. Although that may be the fever.

Unfortunately, another coughing fit comes, and this one is so bad that Jaskier needs to sit up. As the blankets fall, Midge will notice he's wearing pajama pants and a tanktop a little too big for his body - clearly Geralt's. There's a reason for such a choice in clothing: there's a bandage around his shoulder and part of his chest. The most upsetting part is the veins around that area, which look green.

Midge is getting the inkling that Jaskier’s childhood wasn’t just stuffy and restrictive, but rich. For some aspects of his personality, that actually makes a lot of sense.

She feels like a shrink asking about his childhood, though she doesn’t think hair stroking is part of psychotherapy. When he sits up, he moves away from her hand. That wound looks nasty and otherworldly, like nothing she’s ever seen before. This is why she doesn’t visit swamps.

Once the coughing fit passes, Midge moves to perch on the edge of his bed, then continues stroking his hair. She feels like his mother. Freud would be pleased.

“That looks painful.”

To be fair, his mother was never this caring, so at least there won't be any Freudian slips from him.

Jaskier's surprised to see her come this close, considering his current state, so he's truly touched. He barely blinks at her before he's resting his head on her shoulder. His body may be shivering, but he's craving human contact more, so he's happy to stay there and sigh again.

"It isn't so bad now that Yennefer sedated it. You should've seen it when it happened; I was a walking emerald." Meaning, the green veins were all over his body. "But at first? Yeah, hurt like fucking hell. My insides were burning."

Freudian or not, her mom instincts are kicking in. All men turn into little boys when they’re sick. Midge wouldn’t be here if she didn’t mind having him get close to her.

“You know, some people say green is the worst color, but I disagree. I’m sure you looked fantastic in green.”

That makes him smile. "I look fantastic in everything. Maybe we should both put on some green for our plans in the bushes." Just because he isn't in the mood to fuck now, it doesn't mean he can't think about it.

At that moment, Yennefer comes in without even knocking. Her hair is up in a bun, which wouldn't be a big deal for anyone else. But letting a visitor see her like this? Speaks volumes about how hard she's working to get Jaskier better.

"I could hear your lungs leaving your body from downstairs," she says before Jaskier sticks his tongue out at her. Very mature. His head doesn't leave Midge's shoulder until Yennefer touches his forehead... with her free hand. The other one has a glass with a black and gray potion. "This should help you breathe, at least." Jaskier reaches for it, but Yennefer moves it away. "Not with an empty stomach." She turns to Midge. "Would you mind bringing him some food?" She knows Midge brought something, just not what.

When Midge comes back, Jaskier is sitting against a pile of pillows and Yennefer's glowing hand is on his shoulder, making the green slip back under the bandage. "Thank you," she tells Midge with a nod. The potion is left on the night table, which is covered with used tissues and an empty tea mug. "Don't get any funny ideas," she warns Jaskier before leaving the room.

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