“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.
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.
Fuck, I didn't mean to wake you up. I sent it now because I wanted it to be the first thing you saw in the morning. Sorry.
I'm much better now - Yennefer finished the potion, and the venom is out of my system. My body is still a little weak, but it's good old "recovering from a cold". I slept most of the day and drank the potion after dinner, which is why I can't sleep now.
She watches the dots, wondering what he’s trying to put into words. Sometimes simple and direct is the best course, as evidenced by what she ultimately receives.
You did. Geralt seemed surprised.
I hope you don’t regret it. I liked learning about your past, even if it wasn’t a great time in your life.
Jaskier's face falls on his pillow - of course Geralt was surprised, fuck. He made a few comments while he was changing Jaskier's bandage, but didn't push too much. Probably because he's still recovering, but Jaskier can guess there's a big talk coming.
The answer takes a few minutes to arrive. He rereads her text over and over, taking in what's happened. She says she liked it, and she was understanding through the whole deal, if he remembers correctly. As nervous as he is, he can't stop smiling at his phone, knowing exactly why his heart is skipping a beat. Even if the fever and poison lowered his boundaries, there's no denying why that part of his life came out and not something else. He has a crush on her, one that may grow into something else if they keep going like this.
Geralt will tell him to end it before it gets worse, he knows. Jaskier bites his lower lip, thinking about all the good points his best friend will have. And then he ignores them.
I'll be honest, I panicked a little when the potion cleared my mind and I remembered everything. I won't pretend that the fever didn't have anything to do with it, because it did. It's something I keep under wraps.
But you were nice. Understanding. Supportive. Somehow, I was... comfortable, in a way.
Midge sees it as them getting closer, because it’s clear that he doesn’t tell these sort of things to everyone. She might even be daring to hope that he’ll develop feelings for her that go beyond sex. Maybe he’ll want to be with her exclusively.
She’s getting way ahead of herself. She’s not even sure if this is what she wants, even as she can feel herself starting to fall for him.
I’m happy that I make you comfortable. I think I just have one of those faces, you know? People want to tell me things. One time, a guy in an elevator told me all about his prostate problems.
I'm going to take a guess and say they weren't the sexy kind of problems related to the prostate.
As much as I love your beautiful face, however, you must give yourself more credit. People wouldn't open up to you if your spirit wasn't so welcoming and judgment-free.
Is there something you want to tell me or ask? About today?
While he doesn't have any regrets, writing that question is harder than he looks, but he'd better get used to the idea.
Writing it all down takes some minutes - it's hard, but also kinda therapeutic.
Father paid for Oxenfurt University so I could learn Administration & Finances. As soon as I got there, I changed to the Liberal Arts. He didn't find out until the second year when I went home for my break. As you can imagine, he didn't take it well.
That's definitely it. I can barely believe it myself.
It was a shouting match, so I'm not sure what was first: me announcing I was leaving or him disowning me. Probably happened at the same time. I took some gold from his office before leaving, but once I settled down in Oxenfurt, I started to work. I had a noble education so my skills were valuable. My penmanship is exquisite, so I mostly worked as a scribe. Lots of university documents, but there was also a hidden book shop with taboo texts that printers wouldn't take, I copied those too. The city's theatre troupe taught me how to sew and a bit of embroidery so I could take care of my clothes.
I was not, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard as fuck - so thank you, darling.
It flatters me that you see it that way. I like to think so, too, but I can't deny that my education and that initial gold gave me a hefty advantage. At the same time, however, it's a bit funny that the skill I used the most on the road was sewing, just to keep my witcher in one piece.
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“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.”
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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."
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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.
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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?"
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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.”
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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?"
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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.”
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"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."
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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.
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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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Of course. How are you feeling?
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I'm much better now - Yennefer finished the potion, and the venom is out of my system. My body is still a little weak, but it's good old "recovering from a cold". I slept most of the day and drank the potion after dinner, which is why I can't sleep now.
Everyone loved your soup, by the way.
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I’m glad you’ve improved, and I’m glad they all liked my soup. That’s my bubbe’s recipe and it always made me feel better when I was sick as a kid.
Bubbe is a Yiddish word for grandma.
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Midge will see the three dots constantly appearing and disappearing as Jaskier tries to find the best way to tackle certain subject.
I said a lot today.
Nailed it.
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You did. Geralt seemed surprised.
I hope you don’t regret it. I liked learning about your past, even if it wasn’t a great time in your life.
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The answer takes a few minutes to arrive. He rereads her text over and over, taking in what's happened. She says she liked it, and she was understanding through the whole deal, if he remembers correctly. As nervous as he is, he can't stop smiling at his phone, knowing exactly why his heart is skipping a beat. Even if the fever and poison lowered his boundaries, there's no denying why that part of his life came out and not something else. He has a crush on her, one that may grow into something else if they keep going like this.
Geralt will tell him to end it before it gets worse, he knows. Jaskier bites his lower lip, thinking about all the good points his best friend will have. And then he ignores them.
I'll be honest, I panicked a little when the potion cleared my mind and I remembered everything. I won't pretend that the fever didn't have anything to do with it, because it did. It's something I keep under wraps.
But you were nice. Understanding. Supportive. Somehow, I was... comfortable, in a way.
So no, darling. No regrets.
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She’s getting way ahead of herself. She’s not even sure if this is what she wants, even as she can feel herself starting to fall for him.
I’m happy that I make you comfortable. I think I just have one of those faces, you know? People want to tell me things. One time, a guy in an elevator told me all about his prostate problems.
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As much as I love your beautiful face, however, you must give yourself more credit. People wouldn't open up to you if your spirit wasn't so welcoming and judgment-free.
Is there something you want to tell me or ask? About today?
While he doesn't have any regrets, writing that question is harder than he looks, but he'd better get used to the idea.
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I try to accept people as they are, as long as they aren’t assholes.
His question is an open door and Midge wonders just how eagerly she should go through it.
I want to know what made you finally decide to leave your family, but I can understand if you don’t want to talk about that right now.
Geralt seemed surprised that you gave me the scale.
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Writing it all down takes some minutes - it's hard, but also kinda therapeutic.
Father paid for Oxenfurt University so I could learn Administration & Finances. As soon as I got there, I changed to the Liberal Arts. He didn't find out until the second year when I went home for my break. As you can imagine, he didn't take it well.
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Administration and Finances sounds incredibly boring, so I don’t blame you. Did he cut you off?
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It was a shouting match, so I'm not sure what was first: me announcing I was leaving or him disowning me. Probably happened at the same time. I took some gold from his office before leaving, but once I settled down in Oxenfurt, I started to work. I had a noble education so my skills were valuable. My penmanship is exquisite, so I mostly worked as a scribe. Lots of university documents, but there was also a hidden book shop with taboo texts that printers wouldn't take, I copied those too. The city's theatre troupe taught me how to sew and a bit of embroidery so I could take care of my clothes.
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You’re a self-man man.
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It flatters me that you see it that way. I like to think so, too, but I can't deny that my education and that initial gold gave me a hefty advantage. At the same time, however, it's a bit funny that the skill I used the most on the road was sewing, just to keep my witcher in one piece.
Sorry to disappear but I felt ill so I slept
Could you have lead the lifestyle that you do and still have been the viscount?
oh no! don't apologize, I hope you get better soon!
I feel better, just exhaustion I think
makes sense. have a good rest!
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maybe the one that gets the cold is Joel lol
yessss
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lmk if the timeskip prompt doesn't work and I'll change it
all good!
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it's a few years off for the pill but fuck the timeline
we do what we want
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