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Jaskier wasn’t magical, he’s known that all his life. And he’s ok with it. He’s much more talented at other things, having become famous around the continent for his songs about Geralt, the White Wolf.
Little did he know that Geralt could actually turn into a white wolf.
Like, no, that’s not fair. How come he gets cool witchery powers as well as shapeshifter abilities , but Jaskier only sings well. He wasn’t jealous, no, he was happy with his musical talent.
(Ok, maybe he was a little bit jealous)
But it’s fine, he can deal with it, Geralt is already special, it’s fine. But then Yennefer comes along. And he discovers that there are whole communities of shapeshifters.
And oh man does he want to shapeshift so bad.
But he’s not magical, so he’s out of luck. And you know, maybe not being a shapeshifter isn’t so bad. Yen and Geralt are treated so poorly, people are terrified of them. Jaskier is able to go where he pleases with absolutely no trouble.
He wants to change this though, the shapeshifters he’s met have been absolutely lovely and it’s no fair that they are met with such hostility. He starts putting phrases and mentions of them into his songs, trying to rebuild people’s opinions of shapeshifters. He changed Geralt’s reputation, would it really be so hard to do it again? He totally could.
He starts composing full songs about shapeshifters, everything he’s seen has started him on a song cycle, which he’s slowly building and introducing to the world. And little by little, some people’s opinions are being changed, they aren’t being met with as much hostility and fear. He knows that Yen and Geralt notice, and a few of the other shapeshifters he’s met have thanked him for his efforts. It’s not much, but there are now some towns where they can spend their winters, or lay low for a couple of months to recover. People don’t shy away as much when they see them.
One day, Geralt, Yennefer, and Jaskier had set up camp while they were travelling. The sorceress and the Witcher had something to take care of, so they’ve left Jaskier behind. He doesn’t mind, it gives him a chance to work on his composing. He’s humming to himself as he takes notes, trying out melodies on his lute, so it catches him off guard when he hears footsteps coming up behind him before a gentle hand is placed on his shoulder.
He doesn’t shriek, thank you very much , but he drops his lute and whirls around to see one of the most beautiful women he’s ever met standing on the edge of the clearing. She’s gorgeous , draped with expensive silks and jewels. Her robe is a deep purple, flowing down to her ankles, stopping just above her bare feet. Her arms are bare of cloth, but covered in bracelets, each one highlighted with a different engraving. When he looks closer, the bard can see various animals adorning the gold. Her hair is piled on top of her, an intricate knot threaded through with gems of different colours.
When she smiles, it feels like the world stops, like the sun has set its gaze on Jaskier and he is going to burn under its radiance. There is nothing left in the world except for him and this woman. Just as he thinks he’s going to pass out, the woman speaks.
“Bard Jaskier, I have come to give you thanks. I have seen what you have done for my children, using your songs and your words to make their path in this world a little bit easier. Don’t think that your efforts have gone unnoticed, my siblings and I have seen you.” She stepped closer, a package appearing in her hand. “I have a gift for you as thanks. Unbreakable lute strings. Never shall you have to re-tune your instrument or to re-string it.”
Jaskier’s jaw dropped as she reveals her gift, a set of silver strings glistening in the paper which she sets on a rock next to her. Halting himself as he went to reach for the package, he dropped into a deep bow as he remembered his manners.
“I can’t even begin to thank you for this gift, my lady. It is such an honour to have been given this, but I don’t understand. What have I done?” Jaskier looked up as he asked his question, but only received a brilliant smile in return. He glanced down to the strings, admiring the shine in the light of the sun before looking back up, intending to ask for her name so that he might compose a song to her in thanks. He doubletakes when he sees that the woman has disappeared, she is nowhere to be found. He scans the clearing quickly before shrugging, it was a small clearing, she might have just been fast.
Slowly walking over, Jaskier reverently lifts the strings, awestruck at the quality. He’s never had anything of this value, he’s only heard of enchanted strings before, never seen them. He settles against the rock as he gets to work on restringing his lute, getting lost in his work.
Yennefer and Geralt return from their task, freezing at the edge of the clearing as they register the scent that sits over the clearing. It’s the smell that proclaims a shapeshifter, but different. There is more of a magical undercurrent and the scent is strong, stronger than they’ve ever come across before. Scanning the clearing, they don’t see anything out of place, the bard is still here.
“Jaskier, did anyone come by while we were gone?” Yennefer’s clear voice rings across the clearing, distracting the man from his task. He frowns at them slightly, clearly not having heard them approach. His fingers continued fidgeting, tightening the last string on his instrument.
“Yeah, there was a really pretty lady who wanted to thank me for singing about her children. Not sure who she was talking about, I sing about lots of people, but I got enchanted lute strings!” He emphasizes this last sentence by raising his lute, showing his new find. As he does this, Geralt’s medallion starts to vibrate against his chest, the hair on Yennefer’s arms rising as power thrummed through the clearing.
“Jaskier, no-” Geralt starts, but is cut off by the bard strumming his instrument, a clear note ringing through the clearing. Yennefer and Geralt are tense, Jaskier staring at them in confusion. When nothing happens, they start to relax, before the note ends, a rush of wind whistling through their camp bringing a cloud of fog that envelopes the man standing across from them. Geralt rushes forward only to come staggering back, repelled by an invisible force in the fog. He comes to stand by Yennefer, both tense with panic as the fog disperses.
As the space clears, they freeze in bewilderment. Standing in the same place as the bard had been was a… honey badger?
Yennefer inhales, Jaskier’s scent is still in the air, but has changed. It’s the same as theirs. She takes a step forward, a question falling from her lips as a whisper.
“Jaskier?” She is met with a panicked squeak as the badger scrambles towards her, wrapping itself around her ankles. Geralt has moved towards the rock where the bard sat, picking up a small piece of paper that had fallen to the ground. He pales as he reads it, lifting his shocked gaze to meet Yennefer’s inquisitive one. At her silent question, Geralt reads the note aloud.
Thank you for being so kind to my children, Jaskier. In return for your generosity and sincerity, I gift you the same abilities.
Both shapeshifters turn to look at the honey badger at the mage’s feet, their gazes a mixture of awe and confusion.
“Jaskier,” Yennefer manages to get out. “You just met our goddess.”