Chapter Text
“Well, well, It looks like one of my spells hit after all.”
It was the mage, brooding and cloaked, who walked into the clearing. Jaskier would know him anywhere. His grin was too proud, arrogance radiating off of him, and Jaskier took a step back, hair standing on end. Next to him, Geralt growled, baring his teeth.
“Don’t you dare take a step further,” Jaskier raised his sword, pointing it at the mage.
The mage laughed, a fireball forming in his hand. “As if that would stop me.”
The rage in Jaskier grew and he held his stance, daring the mage to come closer. He wanted nothing more than to slash the mage where he stood, but distance was the mage’s advantage.
“I’ve come to finish a job, witcher. Shame about you though,” the mage acknowledged Jaskier. “Would’ve preferred just the witcher’s blood on my hands.”
“You won’t be getting either,” Jaskier growled.
The mage shot off a fireball and Jaskier narrowly avoided it, ducking behind some trees for cover. Blast after blast came, setting bark alight as Jaskier tried to find an opening. He couldn’t see Geralt and he only hoped the wolf was safely away. The fireballs had ceased then, but glowing orbs continued to shoot near Jaskier, the ground quaking and throwing him off-balance.
“Geralt!” he called out, running frantically through the brush.
Through the leaves, he saw Geralt leap at the mage from behind, managing to knock him over as he bit down on his shoulder. Running out to help, Jaskier was then flung backwards and he landed on his back, the wind leaving him. He tried to get to his feet, but he could only grab at the ground, wincing in pain. When at last his strength returned, Jasker pushed himself up with his sword to see Geralt and the mage caught in a physical fight.
Geralt had managed to injure one of the mage’s hands, blood covering his skin and coating Geralt’s fur as he shoved him away, sending Geralt flying with another spell. Jaskier ran forward, catching the mage off-guard and striking him in the stomach. Black liquid spluttered from the mage’s mouth, but he grabbed hold of Jaskier’s forearm, his grip iron strong as Jaskier tried to pull away. From the sickening crack to the pain coursing through his body, Jaskier saw white and crumpled to the ground with a strangled yell.
Through blurry eyes, Jaskier watched as Geralt pounced upon the mage, jaw wide as his teeth sank into the mage’s neck. Relief washed over Jaskier as shock took over, but then Geralt was gone with a sharp yelp and the mage had fallen to the ground, eyes open in fear. As the light faded from the mage’s eyes, Jaskier could feel his bones realigning, his strength coming back and he got onto his hands and knees, a cough tinged with blood leaving him. The mage’s body became nothing more than a pile of clothes and dust, Jaskier giving it a good kick when he got to his feet.
With the mage slain, Jaskier wanted to cry, though out of relief or frustration, he did not know. Geralt had been hit and he rushed over to where Geralt had been thrown, his heart in his throat. A small gasp let him as on the ground lay Geralt, no longer a wolf. However, a gash had ripped his chest open and he was soaked in blood.
“Geralt,” Jaskier fell to his knees, hands hovering over the wound. “Tell me what to do.”
Geralt’s breathing was labored, an unusual paleness rising to his cheeks. “There’s nothing. Not this time, Jaskier.” A cough of blood followed, but Geralt didn’t bother to wipe it away.
“Don’t you dare say that,” Jaskier bit.
Tearing off his doublet, he pressed it to Geralt’s chest to stop the bleeding. In moments, the doublet had turned dark and muddy, the blood beginning to paint the outline of Jaskier’s hands.
“Geralt, come on,” Jaskier’s voice cracked, just on the verge of begging. “Don’t be stubborn, you always have something.”
Jaskier could see Geralt straining to breath now, the blood pooling around them. His gaze was far away, yet focused on Jaskier’s very soul, as he grimaced.
“Never thought I’d be the one to go first.”
“Shut up!” Jaskier shouted, angry tears spilling out of his eyes. “You’re not dying, not if I have anything to say about it. We’re going to go to the coast, you’ll heal up nicely there.”
Geralt lifted a hand, cupping Jaskier’s face with it. “You and your dreams about the coast.”
Jaskier choked back a sob, pressing into the fading warmth on his face. Words seemed useless now and Jaskier’s breath stuttered as Geralt wiped tears away with his thumb. The two stared at each other, a silent exchange of memories as Geralt accepted his fate. Jaskier grabbed onto Geralt’s other hand, holding onto it with reverence, memorizing every crease and scar.
As Geralt took a breath, Jaskier held his own, a plea for a miracle. If he could turn back time, trade places, he’d do it all, if only for one more minute with Geralt. There was still so much unsaid and now Jaskier had to fight with the gutting realization that he would never get his chance.
“Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, struggling to find his voice.
When amber eyes stared, Jaskier couldn’t speak. His mouth moved but the words wouldn’t come. It was then Geralt gave him a small smile, bittersweet.
“It’s all right, Julian.”
Jaskier choked back a sob, cradling Geralt’s hands in his own. He shook his head, trying to stop fate as Geralt’s strength began to leave him.
“No, no,” Jaskier gasped. “Please don’t.”
The hands in his grasp slackened and Jaskier’s heart shattered as Geralt closed his eyes. Laying Geralt’s hands down, Jaskier grabbed his shoulders, shaking them to keep Geralt awake. When Geralt lay still, a scream tore itself from Jaskier’s throat. His cries echoed through the forest, denial thrown at the sky as he pulled at his hair in agony. Jaskier could feel the very wound Geralt had suffered from, but it was life’s cruel joke that he should still remain alive.
Jaskier swore at Geralt, calling him awful names amongst pleading whispers. He pulled Geralt up roughly and held him close as he rocked back and forth. Pressing his forehead to Geralt’s, his tears dropped on Geralt’s cheeks almost as if he was crying too.
“I love you, Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shook with conviction. He traced a hand down Geralt’s face, a heavy sigh leaving him as he settled into quiet tears.
As Jaskier cried, he didn’t notice the mist surrounding him, the way Geralt was slowly being lifted from his arms. When at last he realized his grip on Geralt was loosening, Jaskier gasped, grabbing for him. Instead he was left to watch through tear-filled eyes as Geralt floated in the air, the mist and golden air surrounding him. It twisted around him, enveloping him whole before a bright light filled the area. Jaskier lifted a hand to shield his eyes, confusion swarming in him as he could only wait anxiously. As the light began to fade, Geralt’s body came back to rest on the ground, as if nothing had happened at all.
“Geralt?”
Jaskier swallowed, hesitantly getting to his feet before he took a step towards Geralt’s body. The color had come back to his face and loose, black clothes hung off his frame. The wound in his chest was gone, replaced by the medallion Geralt always had on him resting atop his chest. With a heaving breath, Geralt’s eyes snapped open and Jaskier yelped.
“Jaskier?”
Hearing Geralt’s voice, Jaskier was overcome with emotion and he rushed over, pulling Geralt into a tight hug when the man got to his feet. Jaskier’s sobs wracked his body as Geralt returned the embrace, almost certain that he would wake up and find this all a dream. Geralt traced a hand down Jaskier’s face before lifting it by his chin so they could properly look at each other.
“Is it over?” Jaskier breathed. “Is the spell broken?”
Geralt glanced around, noting the sun just starting to rise in the distance. “Well, you’re not a bird.”
Jaskier let out a strangled laugh, his joy finally overcoming as he held onto Geralt’s shoulders. “We’re back, Geralt. You’re back.”
It was then that Geralt leaned in, face inches from Jaskier’s. Their breaths mingled together before Geralt pulled him into a tender kiss, a surprised noise leaving Jaskier in that moment. Finally, his eyes fluttered shut and the two embraced for what felt like eternity. Neither wanted the kiss to end, but as it broke, they both began to smile, finally able to show what had been hidden for so long.
“I love you too, Julian,” Geralt spoke just above a whisper.
It was then a small laugh bubbled up and Jaskier couldn’t help himself as Geralt raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry, it’s just...this is what it took. A spell, you dying, years and years of doubt, even I couldn’t make a better song.”
A smile, genuine and beautiful, split across Geralt’s face. Jaskier almost didn’t believe it and found himself lifted into Geralt’s arms and spun around.
“Geralt,” he laughed, above the clouds to have Geralt so loving and close.
Setting Jaskier back down on the ground, Geralt took Jaskier’s hand into his own and tugged the amber ring from Jaskier’s middle finger. Sliding it onto the ring finger proved a much better fit, the two men resting their foreheads together.
“A proposal?” Jaskier breathed, half-joking. “So soon, white wolf?”
“Not soon enough, my lark.”
The two embraced again, never quite satisfying the need for the other. Even as they went back to their camp, they went so hand in hand with smiles and soft kisses to help them along.
There was much more to be said and done, but the two couldn’t be bothered as they laid down on their bedrolls with tangled limbs. For now, they would sleep and greet the next adventure with a new fervor.
In their dreams, Geralt and Jaskier would watch as a wolf and a lark raced together in the forest, their hearts light and safe with the comfort that at last they had found each other.