Chapter Text
When the day on which Geralt is supposed to catch up with them rolls around, Ciri’s bleeding has wrapped up for good and both aprons and potlid have found a new home in Ciri’s pack.
“I can keep those with the rest of our things”, Jaskier had pointed out when Ciri had shoved them down towards the bottom of her bag the day before, “you don’t have to carry them yourself, baby”
“No, I’d rather…, I’d rather just have them with my stuff”, Ciri tells him, not unkindly, “that way I don’t have to bother you or go through your things next time”
“Asking for something you need isn’t a bother, Ciri”, Jaskier points out, more out of habit than anything else after decades at another pale-haired someone’s side, “but we’ll do whatever makes you feel most comfortable. I’m sure Geralt will be delighted with all the additional space I now got for sweets”
He winks at her, and his grin only widens when his daughter rolls her eyes.
“Did you”, Ciri starts once the majority of her belongings has returned to her bag and flicks a stray strand of ash grey hair out of her eyes, “I mean, are those apron things the ones you used to use?”
“O no, love, I burnt mine”, Jaskier tells her, voice so matter of fact that it takes Ciri a moment to parse the meaning of his words and look up from her bulging pack, “that was before Geralt and I even knew we’d have a child surprise one day, never mind a daughter. Truth be told I was just so relieved that I wouldn’t have to bother with the whole thing anymore that I might have gone a bit overboard”
“No, I get that”, Ciri says after a beat of silence, and Jaskier shoots her a sympathetic glance before she has even finished the second half of her reply, “I’d rather not have to use them again either”
“Well, you’re definitely not the only one who’d rather cut that bit of reoccurring nastiness short”, he tells her, reaching down to offer her a hand up from her crouch and pulls her to her feet as soon as she has accepted his hand, “no, but I got yours when I bought all of the things I thought we should have with us before we went to Cintra to pick you up”
“But that was years ago”
“Of course it was”, Jaskier says with a shrug, “I wasn’t going to risk not having them when you needed them, especially if it happened when we were on the road or something. And it’s not like these would go bad over time or something- hey!”, he half exclaims, half laughs when Ciri slings her arms around his neck, stretching onto the very tips of her toes and nearly toppling the both of them over in the process.
“Thanks”, she whispers into the fabric of Jaskier’s shirt and doesn’t let go when he stoops down and returns the embrace.
“Oh, it’s nothing, baby. There’s no need to thank me”, he promises, but doesn’t make any move to let go before Ciri does, “how about we go down, get ourselves some overpriced pastries and wait for Geralt at the noticeboard? I’m pretty sure I saw a couple of benches near it when we got here. We can go to the market afterwards too if you want, I’m sure he’ll want a bit of a liedown when he gets here anyway – and we get to waste our coin on whatever we want”
“We do that anyway”, Ciri points out when they finally do pull apart, but she’s grinning and Jaskier pulls her into his side and links their arms before he stirs her towards the door.
“True”
The door closes behind them with a soft click and their key vanishes in one of Jaskier’s countless hidden pockets.
“But I want to get a few things for Geralt, and I want to get him nice things, not the cheapest of the cheap or the subpar stuff he’ll get offered and will accept despite knowing better – I swear I’ve been working on him for years, but he’s stubborn as a mule”
“And you aren’t”
Geralt’s voice is as low and soft as ever as he crosses over to them, but Jaskier starts as if someone had upended a bucket of cold water over his head before he cries out his husband’s name and throws his free arm around him, effectively pulling their daughter along into the hug, “I thought you said you’d be here around noon”
“It is noon, you two just slept in as usual”, but the words have no sting to them, and Geralt kisses first Jaskier, then Ciri’s forehead as he holds them close in the middle of the hallway, “gods, but I missed you”
“We missed you too”, Jaskier whispers, and Ciri echoes him a second later, both still pressing close, “we missed you too, my love”
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“Husband of mine”, Jaskier says that night, leant back against the headboard of the bed and cradling their daughter close to his side by the light of the hearth fire, after Geralt has obliged and given them a rundown of the contracts that had kept him away for the last week, “pray tell, just what would you do if someone came to you and demanded Ciri’s hand in marriage?”
“I’d tell ‘em to fuck off and get out of my sight”, Geralt hums over the gentle rustle of pages, then looks up from his bestiary and mug of ale, raising an eyebrow as he asks, “why, is there someone who needs me to knock some sense into them?”
“Nah”, Jaskier tells him, gently squeezing Ciri’s hand between his fingers and turning his head to kiss the top of her head before he goes on, “just making sure we’re all on the same page here”