Chapter Text
This was definitely the last name Geralt had expected to hear at this moment. His head whipped toward the door, eyebrows shot high in surprise, as indeed a very familiar blue silk doublet bowed deeply.
"Most Gracious Lady!" Did he greet with an obvious fondness in his voice.
The Vampire had jumped from her seat, crossed the room in a few strides, and thrown her arms around Jaskier's neck.
"Oh Jaskier! My love! Most precious Childe!" She exclaimed between resonating kisses all over his face. "Oh, how I've missed you!" *smooch* "My dearest heart!" *smooch* "Most beloved comfort of my unlife!" *smooch* "How perfect that you are here tonight!" *smooch smooch*
The bard was holding her in his arms, receiving her embrace patiently and rubbing soothing circles on her back. But his eyes had landed on Geralt, and he was holding the Witchers surprised look with an apologetic one. Suddenly, Geralt heard the bard's voice distinctly in his head, though his lips never moved.
Don't say a word, please, I'll explain.
When the Vampire finally let go of the young man, Jaskier turned his looks and all of his attention to her, as if Geralt had not even been in the room. The Witcher wasn't really sure why he was finding that upsetting. But he felt like following the advice given might be as good a plan as another right now. At least someone had something to offer, even if that someone was surprisingly Jaskier.
"Most beloved Sire," he declared, "had I known sooner you were in this dire praxis I would have come earlier to bath in your unfaltering beauty and wisdom! But your most dear presence has only been just brought to my knowledge, and so you must forgive this undeserving childe of yours for only now deposing his respects at your feet!"
The Vampire smiled fondly, and Geralt fought not to roll his eyes.
"You are most forgiven, warmth of my heart. And you are most certainly god sent at this hour, for you will never believe what those insufferable pompous asses of Gangrels have done this time!" She waved a hand at Geralt, who instinctively rose up from his seat. "Lo and behold, dear Childe, Geralt of Rivia, Witcher of his state!" She declared dramatically. Jaskier gave him a little bow, his face betraying no recognition. Whatever game he was playing, Geralt felt like he'd better play along, and answered his greeting the same way. When Jaskier talked, it still wasn't to the Witcher.
"Most adored Sire, I'm afraid I don't understand how a Witcher of all people, your most gracious self and the Gangrels connect...
- Well, can you imagine dear Childe that these primitive idiots have had the grand idea of gifting me a Witcher?"
Jaskier blinked, twice. Geralt considered the gesture, that he had seen earlier, the exact same gesture, with the exact same air, on the Vampire's face.
"I am sorry... what?
- The Gangrels have taken it upon themselves to capture a Witcher, bring it into the Elysium, and serve it to me almost on a silver platter!
- Most darling lady!” Jaskier sounded shocked. “I cannot believe Elder Horan could have lacked that much judgment--
- No. Paddy Horan is many things but an idiot is not one of them. I do not think he had a hand in this. But the problem remains the same. What am I to do?” she asked anxiously.
Jaskier took the time to lead the Vampire back to her armchair before answering. He sat down himself by her side, on another comfortable velvety seat, never letting go of her hand, that he stroked gently. Geralt had resumed his own seat, and was quietly witnessing the interaction. He was surprised to admit, it seemed like _Jaskier_ had a plan.
“My beloved Sire, it is indeed quite a worrying situation we are finding ourselves into. But I may have an idea to offer.”
The Vampire looked at him expectantly.
“I am, as you know, a traveling bard, chanting songs of epic from kingdom to kingdom. My lifestyle is very much suited to that of a wandering monster hunter, don’t you think? And my youth makes me well acquainted with the ways of the mortal world, too.” He paused, as if to let simmer what he was preparing to say. “You could release the Witcher in my care. I could make sure nothing unfortunate happens, be it for him or for us, and no one would suspect a thing. The Masquerade would be well guarded, I’d give it my word.”
Something uncomfortable settled in Geralt’s stomach, as well a hint of relief. He tried his best to ignore those feelings for the moment, tensing as his fate was being decided in front of him, without him having any say in the matter.
The Vampire looked relieved all of a sudden.
“Oh, dearest comfort of my unlife! You are putting such a salve to my poor mishandled heart! Of course this would be the perfect solution! But it would also be such a burden… Well, you would get the rightful retribution for your troubles, don’t you doubt it. From me, first, and from Paddy and His Highness. I’ll make sure of it. We will immediately meet with the Harpyes, everything will be set. You are saving us all, I won’t accept less than a major favor from each on your behalf! No, Jaskier,” she insisted when the bard started to protest, “I insist! It is the least they could do with the way you are going to save this boorish court’s face, and protect the Masquerade.
- My Lady, I’d suggest, though, what we’d wait tomorrow to let our request be known. We wouldn’t want them to think the matter had been sorted so easily.
- You are, happiness of my heart. Let them simmer a bit, and rather tell me all about what happened since the last time we met.”
Jaskier glanced uncomfortably at the still silent Witcher. Did he know what Geralt was thinking?
Do not worry, please. I’ll explain, and everything will be alright. Please do trust me.
He once again heard in his head. As much as he was annoyed, there was here a glimmer of a solution that was much less uncomfortable than the alternative given earlier, to either die or serve as a glorified pet for an immortal bloodsucking creature.
“My darling Lady, wouldn’t we be more comfortable only the two of us? I am sure the Witcher would appreciate some rest as well.” And the way he looked at the woman in front of him made something very unpleasant stir inside Geralt. He might have had no clue of what was going on, but the perspective of Jaskier spending the night in the company of that insanely beautiful woman made him surprisingly unhappy. He said nothing though, when she looked at him, almost as if she only remembered now that he was in the room as well.
“You are right once more, most beloved Childe. Go and fetch Suzette. We’ll have him settled for the night, and then,” she said with a seductive smile, “we can talk.”