doesntsing | open post

"You miss your boytoy," he says with a giggle. Indeed, fucking would be a bad idea and he isn't about to try anything, but it's fun to tease.

It makes her a swan - beautiful, elegant, romantic, but also an unexpected serrated mouth.

He nods against her shoulder. "Yeah, I think getting her own money will be the main appeal. But I'll still buy her dresses." He likes pampering her, sue him.

“I do miss my boytoy,” Midge confirms. “Hopefully he’ll be better soon so that he can get back to fucking me.”

A swan is perfect for her. They can be elegant birds together.

“Next time I see Moishe, I’ll ask him about buying some dresses for Ciri. Maybe he’ll be in a generous mood and give them to me for free.” Unlikely.

"I guess chatting with me isn't as fun, huh?" He's trying to joke a bit more, but without the boundaries, he sounds a bit worried as well.

"Moishe is... your in-law?" He frowns. "Don't ask them anything for me. I don't want you to owe them anything."

“Jaskier, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t enjoy chatting with you,” she replies. Midge didn’t come here expecting sex. She was worried about him and wanted to make sure that he’s okay.

“My father-in-law, yes.” Midge waves a hand. “I won’t owe him anything because I’ll pay him for them. He lets me buy at cost rather than with the retail markup.”

"...true." He falls silent for a second, realizing it's the same thing he's been telling Geralt for years. What a hypocrite he's being. "Sorry. I feel weird now. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad the green didn't scare you off."

Suddenly, he walks off the bed. His body is shaking and his legs are wobbly, but he's still determined to reach his desk. From a small box on the first drawer, he takes out a very pretty, sparkly scale, which he gives to Midge with a little smile.

“I’m a mom. Nothing scares me off.” It’s true. After you’ve pushed out children, then wiped their noses and asses, there aren’t many bodily issues that bother you.

Midge is surprised when Jaskier gets up. She offers him a hand, but he seems okay. She’s even more surprised when he returns with a jewelry sized box.

“Oh!” she says upon opening it and gazing at the sparkly object within. “What is it?”

When she says things like that, Jaskier is tempted to share some of the nastiest things he's seen during his travels, part of him curious to know if she'd stay like he did. It's rare to find a soul so much like his own. But he knows better than putting a friend through pointless tests, or kill the mood by describing what Geralt's instentines felt like in his hands.

"Sea serpent scale," he explains as he puts it in Midge's hand. "Keep it. Mayhaps you can turn it into a necklace charm or a brooch for your hats."

“Oh…” she breathes, touching it gently with her finger. “I will. Did you find it here or is it from home?”

Midge looks up at him and smiles. “Thank you.”

It’s a small gift. Maybe it isn’t worth anything or doesn’t mean anything, but Midge is glad to receive it from him.

"Geralt killed it here. Lake on the north, next to the other country?" He means Lake Ontario. "We arrived with only the things on our backs. I'll have to rewrite all my books from scratch."

He tries to get comfortable on her shoulder again, but he keeps fidgeting. After lots of hesitation, he gets up again and brings his lute case. The fact he's showing her the secret pocket inside proves how important she's becoming to him.

From that little pocket, he takes out two things. "This is from the day I met Geralt," he explains while showing her an old, foreign coin.

The next item is a signet. He thinks the family crest on it requires no explanation. "Never could get rid of it," he admits.

She is a little surprised that he’s showing her all of these things, but she’s pleased as well. Midge has felt herself growing closer to Jaskier as the days have gone by. There’s no way for her to tell what he does or says or gives to his other lovers. Maybe she can subtly ask Yennefer or Geralt.

“Why the coin?” She asks. She takes the ring and runs her thumb over the raised bumps of the crest. “I’m sorry that your family didn’t see the lovely person that you are.”

That happens too often, especially in wealthy families.

"Thank you, darling," he replies as he finally rest his head on her shoulder again. His body is shivering, so he brings the blanket up too. "I'm sorry that your husband didn't see how amazing your are."

The coin question makes him chuckle. "He left it on the table in the smelly tavern I found him at. I thought it was for my performance, but later I learned it was for his drink." Oopsie, someone accidentally stole. "The first song I wrote for him is Toss a coin to your witcher, in which I ask people to pay him what he deserves. But, you know, indirectly and with a catchy tune."

“He made a huge mistake,” Midge replies, “and he knows it.” Unfortunately, actions have consequences, and the consequences of his cheating were permanent.

She smiles. “You should ask for a cut of his payments, since you’re the one making sure that he’s getting paid in the first place.”

"If you ever want to shake him up a little, let me know and I'll send Yennefer his way." The witch would love to curse a man that has a hurt a woman, he's sure.

"How do you think I've been buying clothes and makeup?" He sighs. "My music isn't making much money, if at all. Do not take me wrong, I love helping my family, I always did. We used to share the coin with Geralt while we traveled. But we both earned equally back then. Now... I don't know what I would be doing if I hadn't arrived with them."

Busking, probably. It bothers him a little.

Midge gives a short laugh. “Joel would probably piss his pants if Yennefer came his way. I’ll let you know if he ever really pisses me off.” It would have to be something hugely offensive. Midge has mostly forgiven him for cheating on her, for the sake of her kids. Plus it’s clear that he really does regret it, even if he’s never apologized.

“It must be hard, having made it back home and now trying to make it here. It’s not easy to make it here.” Ask her how she knows. “And while I think you have a lot of talent, bard music isn’t exactly what the radio is playing these days.” That can’t be helping either.

"Technically, he's already really pissed you off," he points out quite cheekily. Joel is lucky Jaskier hasn't met him yet; otherwise, he could already be sending a curse his way.

"I know. At least, not the catchy songs. My ballads do work, I think. I've been trying to learn..." He points at the guitar in the corner of the room. "It's not very different from the lute. But I've been dying for a piano. Percussion and strings at the same time? I would've never guessed. It sounds so pretty, too."

“Yes…” she replies with a sigh, “though I’ve forgiven him as much as I can for the sake of our children. Doesn’t mean I won’t make jokes about him though.” The hurt will always be there.

“If I hear about anyone selling a piano, I’ll let you know,” she continues. “There seems to be a rise in acoustic folk music lately. That’s similar to what you do.”

"Oooh, burning the witch on the stage. I like it." He's giggling. "And to think you didn't believe me when I said you're an artist. Making entertainment out of your suffering is art, darling."

He repeats 'acoustic folk' under his breath while he crawls on the bed to reach his night table. Thankfully, he always leaves pen and paper there, so he doesn't have to stand up again. However, all this movement is taking its toll on his sick body, so when he returns, he lies down and drops his head on Midge's lap before handing her the pen and paper.

"Write it down for me, please? Also your book recommendations, I haven't forgotten about those." They were fucking at the time, though, so recalling the names themselves is harder. "I think a person's favorite art says a lot about them."

“Is it? I thought it was a form of expression.” Expression of her suffering, apparently. She’s been using humor to deal with things all her life.

Midge glances down at his head in her lap and shakes her head fondly before writing down some of the book and music recommendations that she had given him earlier.

"Isn't art a form of expression as well?"

The sound of pencil on paper is soothing, and Jaskier soon falls asleep on her lap. He's comfy and warm, although the warmth is probably his own body. Even if his mind is working slowly right now, part of him is aware of a presence that he finds comforting.

Around half an hour later, Midge will hear the front door opening and closing, and lots of heavy things being dropped around the house. In just a few minutes, the door to Jaskier's room opens and Geralt appears with wide eyes, not expecting to see her there. There's a reason for that: he smells like absolute dogshit, and that is blocking his nose. His shirt is clean because he took off the real offender (his armor) and he's barefoot, so no mud left behind. But there are some weird stains on his pants and hair.

"...hello," he says as intense yellow eyes take in the scene in front of him. Soon, the kicked dog face that Jaskier described earlier takes over his expression. The guilt is strong. "Did he trap you here?"

“That’s what I meant. I thought art was a form of expression.”

When she finishes writing down her recommendations, Midge glances down and is surprised to see that Jaskier has fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake him to move him, Midge settles in against the headboard of the bed and gently strokes his hair before dozing off herself.

The bangs in the house wake her. She can smell Geralt before she can see him, and tries not to make a face at the stench when he appears at the door.

“Not on purpose,” she replies quietly. “I didn’t want to wake him.”

"Mmh." He wants to say she should've asked Yennefer for help, but if she's in the lab, then she wouldn't have heard her anyway. And yelling would've woken up Jaskier. In other contexts, waking Jaskier up is the right answer, but right now Geralt can't deny that he appreciates Midge's gesture.

He enters the room and gently picks Jaskier up to free her. It's clear he's done this thousands of times before: he knows exactly how the bard fits in his arms and how to drop his head on his shoulder. Jaskier's body unconsciously recognizes Geralt, too, and cuddles closer. He weighs nothing to a witcher.

"Move those things so we can--" tuck him in, he means to say, but Geralt cuts himself short when he notices that next to the paper and the snake scale, the coin and -most importantly- the signet are there too. He growls. "Where did you get that?"

Midge is trying very hard not to gag on whatever that stench is. Monster guts? It’s really sweet how Geralt picks Jaskier up and the bard cuddles closer. Maybe it’s just familiarity, but Midge files that information away for later.

She gathers up the items on the bed, trying not to take Geralt’s tone as accusatory. This is how he always talks. “The ring and the coin he got from his lute case to show to me. He’s given the scale to me as a gift.”

Ironically, this time it was indeed accusatory. Jaskier doesn't show those to anyone, after all. ...or apparently he does?

"He did?"

Huh. Geralt stares intensely at Midge, realizing she isn't lying but still struggling to believe it. He then looks down at Jaskier as if seeing him for the first time. This is confusing, to say the least, which is new. Geralt usually doesn't have trouble understanding Jaskier, not since the early days when he wondered why the fuck he was following a witcher.

As confusion takes over the guilt on his expression, Geralt tucks Jaskier in. His movements show what a gentle giant he can be, and he even brushes Jaskier's hair off his face before touching his forehead. It seems he's still warm, but at least it isn't burning fever anymore.

He then turns to Midge and stares at her again for a second. "I have to take a shower. You should eat something. Grab whatever you want from the kitchen."

“Yes…” Midge has gathered that Jaskier doesn’t talk about his former life much, so maybe that’s where Geralt’s surprise is coming from. “He was telling me a little bit about his life before becoming a bard. He doesn’t usually talk about that, does he?” She glances down at him. “Maybe it’s the fever?”

Geralt is very tender with him and Midge can see the fondness there.

“I should probably go, actually,” Midge replies, gathering her purse and the scale. “I brought some soup over which is for everyone, not just him. Will you let me know if there’s anything else I can do?”

Jaskier’s resting, so she’s content to leave him to it. Hopefully he’ll message her when he’s feeling better.

"He does not," Geralt confirms as the confusion rises. The mention of the fever gets another mmmh from him. It does explain it, but only to a certain extent. Not even the drunkest Jaskier has shared so much.

He nods at her question. "Thank you. For taking care of him." When he fixes the blanket, he glances at Jaskier's bandage and wonders if Midge saw the poison. "For staying."

It isn't until 3am that night that Midge's communicator gets a message from Jaskier.

Thank you, darling.

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