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Someone knocked the door.
It wasn’t that late, you hadn’t eaten your supper yet, but it was certainly too late for visits. For any visit that entailed a friendly meeting - that is. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen and tried to hear anything besides the sound of the rain.
Someone knocked the door again. This time, a male voice called your name out loud.
“Open the door!” There was a familiar ring to it; after all he did know your name. “It’s me! I need your help!”
You knew that voice too well, you were sure it was him. So, you run to the door without letting your weapon go. When you opened it, the sight to meet your eyes felt like a memory. It was Jaskier, just as handsome and troublesome as ever, a little older, but so were you, and he was aging as well as wine. Behind him, there was a man, bigger than him. He had white hair, but you couldn’t see him well enough due to the darkness and the heavy rain.
“I owe you an explanation, but I need you to sew him up as soon as possible.”
“Go to that room and lay him in bed.” You nodded towards the interior of the house as he was walking in with the unknown man leaning on his shoulder. “And you owe me more than one explanation.”
The bard did as instructed. You quickly gathered your bone needle, the thread and a mysterious potion made by herbs.
“Make him drink this. It’ll ease the pain.”
The man drank it without hesitation, lying back on your bed. You guessed he was a witcher, and not a common one. You had recently heard of Jaskier after all those years- and yes, you had heard the infamous song about Geralt of Rivia too.
“What was it?” You asked while preparing your tools.
“It was big and ugly.” Jaskier answered. Not quite useful.
“Werewolf.” Said the witcher dryly. Then he fell asleep.
You were working in silence, stitching his neck and part of his arm. It was an ugly cut, deep and irregular. You had to clean it first, and you thanked Melitele, for the blood was so stuck to his skin it must had been torture had he been awake. You lost count of the stitches and lost track of time, surely past midnight.
You nodded towards the bard to go out of the room and closed the door behind you to let Geralt rest.
Jaskier nailed his clear, blue eyes upon yours. Neither of you moved. Both of you were thinking how to start a to talk. Should you start with a light-hearted conversation or spill all the venom you had been keeping in your heart for years? You hadn’t seen each other in over a lustrum. Maybe more. He opened his mouth, about to pronounce a word, but he bit his lip instead. A rare sight it was, regarding words came easy to him, he used them as he wanted.
“We can sit by the fire.” You simply said.
Once you were on the chairs in front of the fireplace you looked at him. He didn’t look back. The first change you noticed was his shoulders. They were broader than before. Then his jaw, and his eyes, they were sharper. You wondered if he had seen the same things you did when you entered the real world- right after he left.
“So, you didn’t marry the alderman’s son.” Jaskier said, more an affirmation to himself than to you. His tone, you couldn’t decipher, but it was dark and deep.
“You could at least look at my face when you are talking to me.”
“I never liked when you got angry at me.” He sighed. “And I bet you are making that face right now.”
“We are not children anymore, Jaskier.” You tried to suppress the smirk that was creeping to your lips, remembering all those times you frowned at something Jaskier had done. “You are a man and I am a woman. We can talk, I’m not going to scold you. Or punch you. I wanted to the first few years I hadn’t a single piece of news about your existence…” You added the last part with a bitter tinge. “But the anger faded away.”
“I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me.” He looked at your eyes, his lit with hope. You couldn’t resist the smile this time. Even if it was a sad one. How could you ever deny him of anything? That he acknowledged his fault made you felt understood. There was a knot in your stomach indicating you it was time to ask the question you’ve waited way too long for.
“I want to know why you left so abruptly.”
He blinked. Silence. He gulped. Silence. Yet his pupils didn’t hide. He breathed deeply before answering.
“It was for the best.”
“Oh, was it?” He sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself of his decision instead of you. “Are you sure it was not an affair gone wrong? I’ve heard lately you had a good number of them.”. It was what you always thought had happened. He had to run away. What other reason could there be for his sudden disappearance?
“You heard of them?” He exclaimed surprised.
“I tried to look for you. When your best friend since childhood vanishes from your life, it’s the least you can do. But I failed. And when I finally found something… Well, so much time had passed, I thought you wouldn’t’ even care if you saw me ever again.”
“So it was you.” Jaskier murmured absorbed in his own thoughts.
“Who?”
“On the way to Cintra.” The bard gestured towards you. He looked more like himself now, without the mask of remorse, focused on something else. “I thought it was you, but you turned your head and… It was your hair, it was the way you walked. But I honestly thought fate would never let me meet you again.”
“If that’s so, tell me why you are here then.”
“Geralt was hurt and by chance-”
“I live in the middle of the woods.” You interrupted him. “By chance. I hardly believe that. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Fine. I heard you were here.” You nodded. “Heard your name, some anecdotes, that you sometimes healed people, put two and two together. I was about to come here a couple of times, but I didn’t have the courage. Then all of this happened, and I knew your house was closer than the town...”
“So you were going to go away.” You said absently. You were disappointed, it was obvious. And it was too late to feign this was a light-hearted conversation. You wouldn’t conceal your feelings.
“Do you think it was fate what has brought me here?” He wondered out loud.
“If that’s the case, then fate has a twisted way of making things happen. Why now?”
“Why not now?” He sounded hurt.
“Why not before?”
“I… I want to apologize. I’m sorry I broke our promise...” You can recall the distant moment. He said he’d bring you wherever he’d go, if he ever left home. And he left. Without you. He continued, as he saw you weren’t going to ask further. “I honestly thought you wouldn’t want to accompany me.”
“What made you think that?”
“As I said, I though you married the alderman’s son. I thought you were in love with him. He was constantly giving you flowers and gifts.” You huffed.
“So, you left me because you thought I was going to marry that pig of a man and then proceeded to avoid any contact with me? How could you have been such a fool? Or maybe I was the fool, thinking that we were friends…”
“You were my best friend. Since we were born.” Jaskier firmly confirmed.
“Did I hurt you? There must be other reason.” Your voice was now soft. Trying to seek understanding. “I know you, Jaskier, and you would have said goodbye. I know you and you never shut up, you would have said goodbye and a lengthy monologue stating your motifs and objectives.”
“I was a fool, that’s all.”
“That’s all…” He nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
“I’ll leave as soon as Geralt can walk. I’m sorry for all the inconveniences.”
“You’ll leave again. I hope you at least say goodbye.”
Jaskier crossed his arms and watched the fire crackling. Your heart felt heavy. The muted hope of a closure of your story with the bard was melting away. You felt your soul sank in your chest, lower and lower. There was a lump in your throat. There was no explanation, then. It was worse than rejection. Sadness, anger, you knew those emotions, and knew that time clamed them. But what can you do when there’s nothing but emptiness?
“Are you crying?”
“It’s not your business.” You sobbed, ignoring his worry. “And here I thought the moment we met, it’d be like the old times. Laughs and games, ale and songs. You said you were a fool, but I am the fool who hasn’t got over it after an eternity.”
“You don’t understand.”
“That’s what hurts. Not understanding what’s happening. I thought you were kidnapped, dead, lost. Then I learn you were just fine.” Your tears were now on your cheeks. Your voice high-pitched. “Then I blamed myself, I must have provoked it. I made you leave. But I’m wrong again. You just left and didn’t look back. Is that how it happened?”
“No! For fuck’s sake!” He stood up and kneeled before you. His face was painted with an ongoing conflict. He didn’t want you to be sad. He wanted you to keep going on without him. But why? “I thought you’d forget me soon after that!”
“How was I to forget my… you?”
“Does it really matter so much to you?” He took your hands in his.
“Yes.”
“I was in love with you.” Jaskier squeezed your hands but broke the contact of your eyes. “I just was heartbroken because I thought you had something with the alderman’s son. I can’t even remember his name. But you danced with him and he said he was going to court you and… I just wanted to leave and find something worth to live for because I had lost my reason to wake up every day.” He lowered his head and hid it on your lap.
“I didn’t know… I danced with you too on that fair.”
“Well, we always did.” His voice was muffled. “But you had never danced with anyone else before.”
“I stayed three years waiting for you. Then I learned a few things from a Melitele sanctuary, came back to no news from you, and left again. After a few villages and towns, I chose to settle here…”
“Why did you wait so long?” He rose his head slowly. His eyes were red too.
“What do you think?”
“I was a fool.”
“Indeed. But so was I.”
“I hope you would forgive me.” The bard said as he shook his head.
“What are we going to do now, Jaskier? Are we going to part ways?”
“I… I don’t know. I could… visit sometime… if you want me to, of course.” He babbled. “Did you really love me? And you still do?”
“My feelings haven’t changed. I still love you.” His gaze showed his amazement. And his adoration. “Have you heard me?”
“Are you serious?”
You stood up and made him go up with you. You grabbed his face by the sides and pulled him closer.
“Yes.” It was a mere whisper.
“Aren’t you resentful?”
“Are you?”
“No, but I-”
“Listen, Jaskier, I lived my life with you and without you. And my heart has known no greater joy than when you smile, or talk, or just are next to me.”
“Are you a poetess now?” He smiled, that sweet gesture that made you lose your reason every time.
“Don’t mock me. At least I’m clear about my feelings and my intentions. Now it’s your turn.”
“I love you.” The words spilt like a waterfall; he was thrilled to finally be able to speak them. “I have no doubts. The moment you opened the door, I couldn’t tame the butterflies in my stomach. I don’t care what happens in the future. We will figure it out. But I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You won’t. And I will track you down if you disappear again. I learnt a trick or two.” Jaskier moved his face closer to yours, his lips gracing yours.
“What is a love confession without a kiss?” His arms surrounded your waist.
“Do you think you deserve a kiss?”
“No, but I’m greedy enough to ask just in case I get it.”
You closed the distance. His kiss was soft, sweet, like the warm breeze in summer. You pressed your body against him. It was an indescribable feeling. His smell, his heat, his flavour, they dulled the world around you, and there was only Jaskier. You kissed him again.
“When will Geralt wake up?” He asked and you giggled.
“Not until morning.”
“Then we have time to catch up.”
…
“Was it fate?”
“What do you mean, Jaskier?”
“Us meeting again. Was it fate?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“You were always so romantic…”
“Shut up and kiss me again. And don’t you dare write a song about this.”