“I thought he cared about me,” she says, looking at Jaskier’s passed out form. Midge has never seen him get that drunk. Is it possible that he’s struggling as much as she is?
Nobody knows Jaskier as well as Geralt does.
“He said he loved me too,” Midge admits. “Or, at least, he didn’t deny it. Why is he so scared to only be with me?”
“I do see him for more than that,” Midge says, getting annoyed now. “I love him. If it was just about sex we wouldn’t have spent as much time together not having sex as we did.”
She sighs, knowing what Geralt is saying is right. Jaskier warned her.
“I can’t sleep with him anymore then. He doesn’t want emotions and I’m emotionally involved now.” Midge hangs her head. It’s killing her, but she can’t be what he wants. She can’t keep it casual anymore.
Geralt smirks. "So you do know he didn't only want you for sex." Which is, you know, what she just said, and why it had annoyed him. Good to know she isn't fully blind at least.
(But even if it had only been about sex, well, Jaskier always warns his lovers. Geralt saw him learn that lesson when he was still a young brat. People are stupid for not listening to him.)
"Did he say he doesn't want emotions?" Geralt asks, clearly skeptical. "You still don't understand him. How he separates love, sex, and commitment. And that's fine - call him an idiot if you will, and I'll agree. But don't doubt his love. I'm not carrying him because he's tired."
“I don’t know how he does that,” Midge says. So, no, she doesn’t quite understand that bit. “He’s an idiot. I guess I am too.”
Midge takes a ragged breath as her taxi pulls up to the curb.
“I hope he feels better.”
She’s not quite sure what else to say. Perhaps she and Jaskier need to have a conversation when he’s conscious again. Before getting into the cab, she turns back to Geralt.
“Tell him… he can text me. If he wants to. When he’s ready.”
"Yes, you both are." Listen, he just calls it as he sees it. He snorts at her hopes for his feeling better. "I told him to break it up before it came to this several times. He didn't listen. He'll have the headache he deserves." When Midge mentions texting, Geralt just nods and leaves as well.
At home, he wakes Jaskier up long enough merely for Yen to check on him, then he lets him sleep. Only fair. But when Jaskier wakes up for good, Geralt shares every single bit of the conversation, not caring about the stupid hangover headache just like he promised.
Jaskier is pretty annoyed by hearing that Midge accused him of only wanting sex, which he's pretty sure is what makes him throw up faster. It does sound like she took it back, thought? Maybe? He doesn't know what to think.
But as days pass without any amounts of alcohol or fucking being enough to silence his heart, he knows what he must do. He's just terrified of it.
He stares at his device as if it was a monster waiting to eat him.
Midge struggles on miserably as the week goes by. Maybe Jaskier won’t text her. Maybe he’s decided that she’s not worth his time anymore.
(Yes, she could text him, but she also doesn’t want to push it. Midge feels like she’s in high school again, dealing with this breakup. She doesn’t know how to handle it.)
Seeing his name come through on her device makes her heart leap, although dread quickly follows. For once in her life, she doesn’t know what to say.
Yes.
Are you okay?
Do you want to talk? We should talk. I want to talk to you.
Just… putting every scenario out there, she guesses.
There’s a pause as she debates if she ought to send this last message. Fortunately, it’s easier to ‘say’ over text than it would be to his face.
There’s a diner that I go to sometimes. I’ll send you the address.
Midge is nervous and excited to meet him. She’s cautiously optimistic. Even if he says he misses her, they still might not be able to give each other what they want.
More staring at the screen. He can feel his heart constricting again. He's dramatic, he knows. And usually, he loves being dramatic for a crowd. But this... even if it doesn't work out, he doesn't want to make it worse.
Apparently he didn’t want to do this right now, but then changed his mind. That’s good. She’s ready to talk now.
I’ll see you soon.
It’s a long ride out to Coney Island, which gives Midge some time to think. She finds Jaskier at the railing by the sea, the Wonder Wheel rising up in the distance behind him.
“Hey,” she says quietly, giving him a little smile. He’s dressed way down, for him. Midge is perfectly coordinated as always. If she got one thing from Rose, it’s that she will always look fabulous, even if she’s dying inside.
“You wanna sit?” Midge inclines her head towards a nearby bench that faces the ocean.
She looks as beautiful as she always does, and Jaskier can't help but to stare at her for a second while his heart cries out for her. He puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket, hoping that will stop them from doing something stupid.
"Hey." He returns the little smile. "I actually mentioned this place because I thought we could go for a walk on the beach? I find the coast soothing."
This is the most subdued that she’s ever seen him before. Midge is afraid that his somber mood means that he’s going to tell her he never wants to see her again after today. Maybe that’s what she deserves.
“In these shoes?” she teases. It’s not really a joke, nor a funny one, but she’s off kilter. Going to the aforementioned bench, Midge sits and removes her heels. Now barefoot, she and Jaskier pick their way down the boardwalk that leads over the dunes, then over the soft white sand to the packed wet sand by the shoreline.
Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m sorry,” she tells him.
He chuckles, so it works well enough. His boots are good enough for the beach, but he takes them off anyway. He wants to feel the sand on his toes - it works. The beach is always a balm for his soul.
The apology is unexpected and it throws Jaskier for a second. Fuck, how can she always be so sweet? He takes a deep breath.
"Never apologize for loving," he replies as he asks his heart to calm down. "I'm sorry I made you cry." There's a pause before he bursts out, "You told Geralt I wanted you for sex."
She nods, because there’s no point in denying it. They need to be honest with each other right now.
“I was angry and feeling bitter,” she replies. “He pointed out all of the time we spent together not having sex, the things that we shared with each other. I know it wasn’t just sex, and I’m sorry that I said that.”
"Thank you," he responds, followed by a snort. "You know we've stepped into hell when we're getting relationship counceling from him of all people."
He hasn't forgotten that he had to put up with his and Yennefer's bullshit for years.
Silence follows them for a moment. Jaskier looks at the sea - not because he refuses to look at her (how could he?) but because he knows that if he does, he'll surrender to her sad eyes.
Also, he may be scared.
Just a little.
Okay, a lot.
"I missed you. Terribly," he finally says with a broken voice. "This week apart made me realize how much I need you in my life."
He takes another deep breath.
"I'm willing to try. A relationship, I mean. Exclusivity. But it wouldn't be what you know. It wouldn't be traditional. I am not a husband. So there's a lot to discuss. To reach... compromise."
Midge is completely floored by what she hears. Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t this.
She’s dumbfounded for a moment, the sound of waves crashing and seagulls calling taking over. “You… really? You don’t have to marry me, Jaskier. I wasn’t expecting a proposal.”
Midge moves closer to him, standing in the surf as the cold water rushes over her feet. She lets out a little yelp, then a laugh at the temperature of it. “That’s cold! Sorry. Momentary distraction. Tell me what you want.”
There goes the p-word again. Jaskier sighs - this is precisely why they need to talk. Before he can say anything, though, Midge is yelping. And what else can he do but laugh?
It is a good distraction, at least. It gets rid of some of the tension.
Jaskier loathes the cold, but being a beach boy and having camped outside during chilly Autumns mean his tolerance has grown since he was a brat napping by the hearth. He offers his arm to Midge, because he can't take it anymore. "You are not being smooth, you know. You just had to ask." He's teasing to cover his need.
For the next few steps, he just enjoys having her close again.
Welp. Here goes nothing.
"You said the same thing in the club. Marriage, proposal. That's what worried me - you're missing the point. It's not about the ring and the paperwork. It's about the man's role. It's about being the provider and changing diapers." He kicks a shell in the sand. "Actually, that's a good place to start. I don't want kids. That one is not negotiable."
He isn't sure if this relationship will even make it that far, but better put it all out now.
Midge grips his arm gratefully. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to…” she says by way of explanation. She would have been heartbroken if she’d asked to take his arm and he had rebuffed her.
No kids is an easy agreement for her. “I have enough kids,” Midge agrees, “and they have a father.” Meaning that she doesn’t expect him to be one to them. “In time though, I’d hope that you would like to meet them. Maybe you can be an adult figure for them like you are for Ciri. Slowly. If you want to.” She’s not going to push him regarding her kids right now.
"Meeting them is fine. I'll help you throw birthday parties, hold your hand if one of them has a fever. Just... small doses." Ha pauses as he thinks about it. "I can't promise I'll be an adult figure, but-- it may happen. Being an uncle is something I can grow into."
Another pause. There's so much to say, and everything connects to everything, it's hard to just name them as if it was a shopping list. And to think he's supposed to have a way with words. He doesn't want to overwhelm her.
"I told you my career and my family are my priorities. That will continue to be true. It doesn't mean you don't mean the world to me." He still thinks this may not work. But he'd rather try and find out, that's how he's always lived. "I want it to be your priorities too. I want you on stage. I want you to watch your kids grow - I can have you on your free days. Let Joel be the babysitter of our sex." Just kidding. Maybe. "If you get a good gig, you better fucking cancel our date if necessary."
His next request is more surprising. Not that he intends to place emphasis on his career, but that he expects her to emphasize her own as well. It’s so much the opposite of what most people in her life would say.
As for his family, she hopes that one day he might consider her a part of his family too.
“Alright,” she replies, smiling when Jaskier calls Joel the babysitter of their sex. “You have a deal with that.”
Well, she's smiling at least. Jaskier is a little worried she may say yes to everything just to get through this faster. But okay, she was wordy about her kids. Maybe it was just this one thing that needed a mere 'alright'. Gotta give her a chance.
"I understand what Joel has put you through. But if there's one quality in me that you can trust, it's loyalty. You can ask Geralt if it'll make you feel better, gods know he fucked up many a time." A little huff. Fucking bastard, he swears. "That said, I am... naturally flirty. It doesn't mean anything; it's just for fun. It won't go all the way. But that is how I speak, how I charm people. It's not something I can change."
So she'll have to learn to put up with it, he's saying. This is probably the big one, the one that will decide how the rest of the conversation will go.
"And I'm perfectly fine with you doing the same, if it pleases you. I'm not a jealous person. You can keep eye-fucking Lenny if you want," the tone in that last one is teasing. "This is what I meant by not traditional, not a husband. If we go to a party, I don't expect you to stay seated and wait to dance with me. We will dance, because I love dancing with you and showing you off, because I'll be the lucky bastard with the prettiest girl in the room. I want you to mingle and dance and laugh with friends. Dance with Perdita. Dance with Molly, she thinks you're cute. Dance with both twins at the same time. Dance with Dick-- no, actually, don't dance with Dick, he's an awful dancer."
The more emotional the talk gets, the more he needs affection to support him through it. Before he can stop himself, he takes the hand on his arm to his face to kiss her hand.
"I'm not a husband, and I'm not looking for a wife. I like my freedom, and I want you to be free too. We shall be independent together, as ironic as it sounds."
Midge smiles as he goes on, though she rolls her eyes when Jaskier mentions eye-fucking Lenny. The smile turns to a grin when he kisses her hand.
“I don’t mind flirting or dancing. That’s who you are, and I wouldn’t want to change that.” Her smile fades a little bit. “The only thing I ask is that you don’t sleep with anyone else… and I know that’s a big ask, but with what happened with Joel…”
Jaskier cheating on her would be a huge blow, one that she probably wouldn’t be able to forgive him for.
“If you want to be with someone else, I would rather that you break up with me.”
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“I thought he cared about me,” she says, looking at Jaskier’s passed out form. Midge has never seen him get that drunk. Is it possible that he’s struggling as much as she is?
Nobody knows Jaskier as well as Geralt does.
“He said he loved me too,” Midge admits. “Or, at least, he didn’t deny it. Why is he so scared to only be with me?”
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Geralt sighs. How did he end up stuck in this conversation? If Midge would only call Jaskier an idiot, he could simply agree and leave.
"He didn't lie to you. He's a good debaucher, but not a good boyfriend. Cages kill free birds."
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She sighs, knowing what Geralt is saying is right. Jaskier warned her.
“I can’t sleep with him anymore then. He doesn’t want emotions and I’m emotionally involved now.” Midge hangs her head. It’s killing her, but she can’t be what he wants. She can’t keep it casual anymore.
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(But even if it had only been about sex, well, Jaskier always warns his lovers. Geralt saw him learn that lesson when he was still a young brat. People are stupid for not listening to him.)
"Did he say he doesn't want emotions?" Geralt asks, clearly skeptical. "You still don't understand him. How he separates love, sex, and commitment. And that's fine - call him an idiot if you will, and I'll agree. But don't doubt his love. I'm not carrying him because he's tired."
He's carrying a broken heart.
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Midge takes a ragged breath as her taxi pulls up to the curb.
“I hope he feels better.”
She’s not quite sure what else to say. Perhaps she and Jaskier need to have a conversation when he’s conscious again. Before getting into the cab, she turns back to Geralt.
“Tell him… he can text me. If he wants to. When he’s ready.”
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At home, he wakes Jaskier up long enough merely for Yen to check on him, then he lets him sleep. Only fair. But when Jaskier wakes up for good, Geralt shares every single bit of the conversation, not caring about the stupid hangover headache just like he promised.
Jaskier is pretty annoyed by hearing that Midge accused him of only wanting sex, which he's pretty sure is what makes him throw up faster. It does sound like she took it back, thought? Maybe? He doesn't know what to think.
But as days pass without any amounts of alcohol or fucking being enough to silence his heart, he knows what he must do. He's just terrified of it.
He stares at his device as if it was a monster waiting to eat him.
You said I could text you?
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(Yes, she could text him, but she also doesn’t want to push it. Midge feels like she’s in high school again, dealing with this breakup. She doesn’t know how to handle it.)
Seeing his name come through on her device makes her heart leap, although dread quickly follows. For once in her life, she doesn’t know what to say.
Yes.
Are you okay?
Do you want to talk? We should talk. I want to talk to you.
Just… putting every scenario out there, she guesses.
There’s a pause as she debates if she ought to send this last message. Fortunately, it’s easier to ‘say’ over text than it would be to his face.
I miss you.
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It's that last text that finally breaks him.
I miss you too.
We should talk. But not on the device.
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There’s a diner that I go to sometimes. I’ll send you the address.
Midge is nervous and excited to meet him. She’s cautiously optimistic. Even if he says he misses her, they still might not be able to give each other what they want.
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Are you too busy?
I was thinking Coney Island.
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Alright. Should I leave now?
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fuck
i thought
i said somewhere far and thought you'd need
The three dots appear and disappear for a few seconds.
Yes. Now. See you soon.
Jaskier is already there when Midge arrives, resting on a railing while watching the sea. The coast has always been a lullaby for his heart.
There's no bag or lute, no makeup or jewelry except for the elven ring. Just the gray vest and his long read coat. Simple. Just Jaskier.
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Apparently he didn’t want to do this right now, but then changed his mind. That’s good. She’s ready to talk now.
I’ll see you soon.
It’s a long ride out to Coney Island, which gives Midge some time to think. She finds Jaskier at the railing by the sea, the Wonder Wheel rising up in the distance behind him.
“Hey,” she says quietly, giving him a little smile. He’s dressed way down, for him. Midge is perfectly coordinated as always. If she got one thing from Rose, it’s that she will always look fabulous, even if she’s dying inside.
“You wanna sit?” Midge inclines her head towards a nearby bench that faces the ocean.
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"Hey." He returns the little smile. "I actually mentioned this place because I thought we could go for a walk on the beach? I find the coast soothing."
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“In these shoes?” she teases. It’s not really a joke, nor a funny one, but she’s off kilter. Going to the aforementioned bench, Midge sits and removes her heels. Now barefoot, she and Jaskier pick their way down the boardwalk that leads over the dunes, then over the soft white sand to the packed wet sand by the shoreline.
Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m sorry,” she tells him.
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The apology is unexpected and it throws Jaskier for a second. Fuck, how can she always be so sweet? He takes a deep breath.
"Never apologize for loving," he replies as he asks his heart to calm down. "I'm sorry I made you cry." There's a pause before he bursts out, "You told Geralt I wanted you for sex."
Well. He did warn her he was a bitch.
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“I was angry and feeling bitter,” she replies. “He pointed out all of the time we spent together not having sex, the things that we shared with each other. I know it wasn’t just sex, and I’m sorry that I said that.”
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He hasn't forgotten that he had to put up with his and Yennefer's bullshit for years.
Silence follows them for a moment. Jaskier looks at the sea - not because he refuses to look at her (how could he?) but because he knows that if he does, he'll surrender to her sad eyes.
Also, he may be scared.
Just a little.
Okay, a lot.
"I missed you. Terribly," he finally says with a broken voice. "This week apart made me realize how much I need you in my life."
He takes another deep breath.
"I'm willing to try. A relationship, I mean. Exclusivity. But it wouldn't be what you know. It wouldn't be traditional. I am not a husband. So there's a lot to discuss. To reach... compromise."
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She’s dumbfounded for a moment, the sound of waves crashing and seagulls calling taking over. “You… really? You don’t have to marry me, Jaskier. I wasn’t expecting a proposal.”
Midge moves closer to him, standing in the surf as the cold water rushes over her feet. She lets out a little yelp, then a laugh at the temperature of it. “That’s cold! Sorry. Momentary distraction. Tell me what you want.”
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It is a good distraction, at least. It gets rid of some of the tension.
Jaskier loathes the cold, but being a beach boy and having camped outside during chilly Autumns mean his tolerance has grown since he was a brat napping by the hearth. He offers his arm to Midge, because he can't take it anymore. "You are not being smooth, you know. You just had to ask." He's teasing to cover his need.
For the next few steps, he just enjoys having her close again.
Welp. Here goes nothing.
"You said the same thing in the club. Marriage, proposal. That's what worried me - you're missing the point. It's not about the ring and the paperwork. It's about the man's role. It's about being the provider and changing diapers." He kicks a shell in the sand. "Actually, that's a good place to start. I don't want kids. That one is not negotiable."
He isn't sure if this relationship will even make it that far, but better put it all out now.
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No kids is an easy agreement for her. “I have enough kids,” Midge agrees, “and they have a father.” Meaning that she doesn’t expect him to be one to them. “In time though, I’d hope that you would like to meet them. Maybe you can be an adult figure for them like you are for Ciri. Slowly. If you want to.” She’s not going to push him regarding her kids right now.
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Another pause. There's so much to say, and everything connects to everything, it's hard to just name them as if it was a shopping list. And to think he's supposed to have a way with words. He doesn't want to overwhelm her.
"I told you my career and my family are my priorities. That will continue to be true. It doesn't mean you don't mean the world to me." He still thinks this may not work. But he'd rather try and find out, that's how he's always lived. "I want it to be your priorities too. I want you on stage. I want you to watch your kids grow - I can have you on your free days. Let Joel be the babysitter of our sex." Just kidding. Maybe. "If you get a good gig, you better fucking cancel our date if necessary."
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His next request is more surprising. Not that he intends to place emphasis on his career, but that he expects her to emphasize her own as well. It’s so much the opposite of what most people in her life would say.
As for his family, she hopes that one day he might consider her a part of his family too.
“Alright,” she replies, smiling when Jaskier calls Joel the babysitter of their sex. “You have a deal with that.”
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"I understand what Joel has put you through. But if there's one quality in me that you can trust, it's loyalty. You can ask Geralt if it'll make you feel better, gods know he fucked up many a time." A little huff. Fucking bastard, he swears. "That said, I am... naturally flirty. It doesn't mean anything; it's just for fun. It won't go all the way. But that is how I speak, how I charm people. It's not something I can change."
So she'll have to learn to put up with it, he's saying. This is probably the big one, the one that will decide how the rest of the conversation will go.
"And I'm perfectly fine with you doing the same, if it pleases you. I'm not a jealous person. You can keep eye-fucking Lenny if you want," the tone in that last one is teasing. "This is what I meant by not traditional, not a husband. If we go to a party, I don't expect you to stay seated and wait to dance with me. We will dance, because I love dancing with you and showing you off, because I'll be the lucky bastard with the prettiest girl in the room. I want you to mingle and dance and laugh with friends. Dance with Perdita. Dance with Molly, she thinks you're cute. Dance with both twins at the same time. Dance with Dick-- no, actually, don't dance with Dick, he's an awful dancer."
The more emotional the talk gets, the more he needs affection to support him through it. Before he can stop himself, he takes the hand on his arm to his face to kiss her hand.
"I'm not a husband, and I'm not looking for a wife. I like my freedom, and I want you to be free too. We shall be independent together, as ironic as it sounds."
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“I don’t mind flirting or dancing. That’s who you are, and I wouldn’t want to change that.” Her smile fades a little bit. “The only thing I ask is that you don’t sleep with anyone else… and I know that’s a big ask, but with what happened with Joel…”
Jaskier cheating on her would be a huge blow, one that she probably wouldn’t be able to forgive him for.
“If you want to be with someone else, I would rather that you break up with me.”
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