Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first year of his travels went by without something remotely interesting happening. Jaskier returned home in time for Pugsley’s Mamushka. He had never been prouder of his little brother, the boy had learned the entire dance, sword swallowing and all. Jaskier was able to perform it with him, which only seemed to heighten everyone’s spirits. According to his mother, he always seemed different when performing, more powerful. After the celebration was over, he decided to stay for the rest of the week before returning to his travels. Spending time with Greg definitely helped him create new songs. Once the week was over; however, he insisted on continuing his travels. Jaskier had yet to meet the mystery man from his dreams, and he longed to see the coast in person.

Two months after Pugsley’s Mamushka Jaskier received an invitation addressed to his cover name from the Lioness herself. It held the promise of money, women and wine, why wouldn’t he accept? Not to mention, it’s been years since an Addams attended one of the Lioness’s feasts. Judging by the whispering rumors throughout Cintra, Princess Pavetta was a force more fierce than her mother.

Jaskier whistled a mindless tune as he traveled through the city towards the castle. The marketplace was open and people were going about their daily tasks. Farmers selling fruits and vegetables, stacks of sample items were at the entrances of most booths. “Bard!” A voice called out, “it’s a pleasure to meet you again.” Jaskier knew that voice. His ancestors hissed in the shadows, but he kept them at bay and turned around with a false smile plastered across his face.

“Valdo, why are you here?” He asked the ignorant man. They briefly met in a Lord’s home a week after Jaskier left. The man was pompous and rude, not caring in the slightest for anything but riches and fame in courts. In response Valdo held up an invintation to the same banquet Jaskier was invited to.

“It seems Calanthe wishes to see who’s the best,” Valdo said with a sneer as he rolled up the parchment and tucked it into his belt. Jaskier darkened his expression,

“It’s Queen Calanthe Marx, treat the woman with the respect she has earned.” Valdo only laughed, a sound forever ingrained in Jaskier’s ears.

“What do you know of respect, bastard?” Valdo asked, a wicked look in his eyes. It took all of Jaskier’s self control to not attack the man right in the middle of the market. His family ring burned against his finger as he anxiously twisted it around in his hands.

“Take care to never insult my family again,” Jaskier said, warning the man. “I would be a very, very dangerous enemy for you.” Valdo only rolled his eyes then turned and walked into one of Cintra’s many, many taverns. Jaskier steeled himself and faced the castle standing tall and proud overlooking the city. It was almost five times the size of the Addams’ estate, and as he walked up the steps to the main doors the building only seemed to get bigger. He approached the guard at the door, producing his invitation.

“Ah, one of the bards for tonight. We’ve been expecting you Sir Jaskier, go on inside.” The guard said, waving him through the doors. Jaskier nodded then gripped his lute strap a little bit tighter.

Upon entering the main hall he could easily pick Princess Pavetta out of the bustling servants setting the room up for the banquet. “Hi,” Jaskier said stopping one of the maids, “I’m the bard for the party. Is there anything I can do to help?” The middle-aged woman shook her head,

“No dear, everything is planned. You just get the music started when the queen commands it and you’ll do fine.” Jaskier nodded then settled in a spot against the wall facing the door so he could tell who was coming and going. Princess Pavetta walked up to him and he bowed.

“Princess, it’s a pleasure,” Jaskier said as she curtsied back at him.

“The pleasure is mine bard. The party must be important tonight for mother to invite two bards instead of one.” Jaskier nodded then gave her a sly smile,

“Aye, but I’m the one with an invitation to stay the night at the castle.” The princess’s cheeks flushed. She reached forward and they shook hands, she frowned when she saw the Addams crest on his black ring.

“That’s an interesting crest,” she said looking at it. “I’ve seen something similar in my studies with my teachers.” Jaskier dropped his hand then picked up his lute, which was leaning against the wall beside him.

“Would her highness care for a song before the night begins?” Jaskier asked her, her eyes lit up and she nodded. Jaskier grinned then began playing Grey Leaves , a song inspired by one of his  many walks in the family graveyard. Harmonies sung by the shadows weaved between the lute’s strings as the princess became entranced by the song. “I had not seen grey leaves before that walk…” Jaskier sang, his voice captured the attention of nearby servants as well. “I passed them by, and did not pause. As might I had myself, had I crossed paths with me. What time I had to rest is now long gone.” The song wrapped around the room, the air growing heavy and dense. “And though I may remember moonlit halls, the earth suits me better now. As does the sun.” He paused slightly to look up and see the queen had entered the room.

“Well bard? Continue on.” Queen Calanthe said, waving for him to continue.

“For night, it seems, can offer sleep, not rest.” Jaskier sang, voice just above a whisper. “And must be used to dream of those grey leaves. Of those grey leaves between my homes.” He strummed the final chords and let the music die as he sang, “between my homes… between my homes…” The spell broke and the servants returned to setting up the room as Queen Calanthe reached forward to shake Jaskier’s hand.

“An interesting talent you’ve got there,” the queen said. Jaskier nodded then tucked his lute back into it’s case. “I hope you’ve got jigs in your line up for tonight, otherwise I fear my party will die of boredom!” Jaskier nodded,

“I’ve got a few things up my sleeve.” He said thinking of the Mamushka and some other songs he’d composed over the past year. “If I can ask…” he wondered, stealing a glance at the princess to ensure she was out of earshot. “Does the princess know of her chaos?” The queen’s eyes widened, then she seemed to realize something.

“You’re an Addams.” She stated leaving no room for questioning. Jaskier nodded, then bowed.

“Jaskier Addams, the eldest.” The queen was speechless, stuttering over her words. “I do not seek to cause Cintra harm good queen.” He said assuring her he meant no harm. “I wish to entertain the masses with my song, that is all.” She looked unsure, but in the end she nodded,

“Very well. Tomorrow I wish to draw up a peace treaty between your family and Cintra. With the Addamses by our side no one would dare cross us. You may call me Calanthe,” she said. Jaskier nodded,

“I would expect nothing less from the lioness.” Calanthe seemed satisfied with the knowledge her city won’t be destroyed come nightfall. She bid him farewell until the banquet, then left the hall to attend a court session. Jaskier sighed as he watched the hustling servants put the finishing touches on the room’s decorations. He ran a finger over his family ring, wondering if Pavetta knew of her chaos, or if the queen was keeping it a secret from her.

Chapter Text

The night’s events began to unfold just as Jaskier and Calanthe were settling on an alliance. “Should you ever find yourself in need, an Addams will be of assistance. We are not whores or soldiers for you to order about Calanthe.” Jaskier warned as he sealed the treaty with a final swirl of the quill. “And if one of us decides a situation is not a given threat to your throne or country we will not partake in unsavory activities… unless my family member wishes to do so. Also, I would appreciate it if you did not unveil my identity until I see fit.” Calanthe steeled her gaze then reached out a hand,

“Cintra agrees with your terms, Jaskier. I’ve got a feeling we’re in for an interesting decade. Tell me, what is it about your clan that prevents you from aging?” She asked as Jaskier shook her hand. He shrugged,

“Hell if I know. Mother hasn’t said anything and I’m pretty sure Grandmama hasn’t found the cure for true human immortality in those concoctions of hers.” At Calanthe’s questioning expression he murmured, “batty old woman brews potions in our basement.” Calanthe nodded, satisfied with his answer. Turning to face the door of the library she shouted behind her,

“I do believe you’ve got a man of cowardice to put in his place Jaskier!” Shaking his head the bard followed the queen to the banquet hall.

Within the few hours he was away, it seemed the servants had transformed the whole hall. Decorations covered the pillars and tables, Cintra’s colors were wrapped around every surface from the floor to ceiling. There was a small temporary performing area built against the south wall, with the queen’s table positioned in the north. Cutting through the center of the room until the halfway point was a table piled high with more food than what his family ate at his Mamushka. Jaskier’s mouth watered as he stared  at the fine cuisine. 

To his immense displeasure Valdo Marx’s music was screeching through the sound enhancement set up. Jaskier cringed as Marx strummed a rather off-tune chord to finish one of his many stolen songs. The audience applauded, but not in appreciation of the music. Just out of pure joy the ear-bleeding catastrophe was over for now. Out of the corner of his eye Jaskier saw Pavetta playing tag with a few other royal children. Calanthe snuck into the room through a side door and slid into her seat, all entertainment stopped upon her arrival. “This is a party!” She exclaimed, thrusting her large mug of ale outward, “play Jaskier!” The queen took a swig out of her mug that would’ve made tavern drunks jealous. Jaskier grinned wickedly as he shoved Marx off the stage and readied his lute.

“Any requests?” He called out, the crowd responded with an overwhelming demand for the song No Worries. Jaskier wrote the original draft during his first few months on the road. Seeing the mistreatment in the world seemed to spark something inside him. He wrote No Worries with a friend of his, who gave Jaskier permission to travel with it. He shot Valdo Marx one of his deluxe I’ll-kill-you-later stares before launching into the song.

Music moved through the halls and the people moved with it. Joyus to have real entertainment to dance to the party guests swung themselves about on the dance floor leaving their troubles behind them. Watching the crowd come alive would probably be one of Jaskier’s favorite things about performing. Having the ability to connect with that many people while singing songs about sex and suffering? The only other things he got the same high from was sex and murdering someone.

He got five songs into the night before Calanthe called him up to her table. “What do you have to say about the other bard Jaskier?” Eist asked from Calanthe’s side. The queen had been denying the king’s hand in marriage, but the man didn’t know when to stop. Jaskier crossed his arms and leaned against the table, watching Valdo Marx’s taboo performance. He shrugged,

“Adequete at best. Atrocious since I know the man’s a right bastard .” Jaskier grabbed a spare mug and took a sip. It wasn’t as strong as the stuff they brewed at home, but he could suffer for a night. Pavetta gasped from her seat,

“Grandmother he said a grown up word!” Jaskier grinned then leaned forward,

“Do you want to know a secret?” He asked the princess, she leaned with her elbows in her plate of mashed potatoes. “I am a grown up!” Jaskier exclaimed, she giggled then wiped her elbows on the table cloth. Jaskier winced then shot Calanthe an apologetic look.

“It’s fine bard. Since my daughter seems to be enjoying your presence, consider yourself invited to all of our future parties.” Jaskier nodded then cringed as Valdo’s falsetto cut through the air. He watched as Valdo snaked his way through the crowd, approaching Calanthe’s table.

“Surely my queen would prefer a finer company at her table than squalor,” Valdo said, giving Jaskier a once over. Oh the audacity of the man. Jaskier was wearing his best black doublet and Marx knew it.

“I’ll show you finer company,” Jaskier hissed, darkening his expression. “Tell me, do the guests still have all their senses, or have your destroyed their hearing?” A grin cracked across Valdo’s face.

“Tell me Jaskier, does your mother know you’re a part-time whore? Does she know she bore a bastard out of wedlock?”

Jaskier’s vision turned red with fury.

He reached forward and launched Marx into a side room adjacent to the main hall. Flipping the man over Jaskier pinned Marx onto the floor. He slipped his knife down his sleeve and caught the handle. Pressing the blade against Marx’s throat Jaskier thrived off the terrified look glistening in Marx’s eyes. The door swung shut behind them, so Jaskier had free reign to do as he pleased with the bastard in front of him. Pressing a little bit harder Jaskier drew a thin line of blood from Valdo, staining the tablecloths copper. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t -” Valdo gulped as Jaskier traced his knife down his shirt, slicing it open.

“You didn’t what ?” Jaskier hissed lowering his head so his voice crept into the crevices of Valdo’s mind. He traced the shape of a heart over the place Valdo’s should be.

In theory.

It was obvious Valdo Marx didn’t have a heart.

Jaskier was pretty sure the man didn’t have balls either.

Valdo sobbed under his touch and oh how Jaskier missed the feeling of torturing someone. A real honest torture, nothing like the glares or snide comments they’d exchange crossing paths. Jaskier relished the feeling as he began to move further down Marx’s body. He stopped at the man’s waistband, sliding the blade into his pants. “I was just having fun,” Marx sobbed as Jaskier poked his rather mediocre sized dick, unsatisfied.

“Do you normally get your rocks off from insulting someone’s mother Valdo? Seems to me your friend here is rather… well… flat .” Jaskier pushed the blade against Marx’s pants zipper then turned pulled another concealed knife out with his left hand and pressed it back against his neck.

“You’re insane!” Valdo shouted. He tried to wriggle out from Jaskier’s grasp but by this point his hold was too strong. Jaskier twisted the knife against Valdo’s dick, pulling the skin with it.

“I think dying by a stab wound is too simple for a man like you. Mother would be so disappointed if I missed the poetic murder you’ve cooked up for me.” Jaskier released Valdo knowing full well the man was too smart to try to run. He looked around the storage room he shoved them into and found what he needed shoved into a box on the back of a shelf.

“Wh - what are you going to do to me?” Valdo cowered in the corner and Jaskier left him in. Kneeling at the man’s side he traced the slice across his neck with his finger. 

“Like I said,” Jaskier answered with a grin of blood stained teeth, “poetic justice.”

“What kind of a monster are you?” Valdo asked, far too weak to even try to fight back anymore. Jaskier tipped the man’s chin up so he could see his eyes.

“I’m no monster Valdo.” He narrowed his eyes and let ever single dark thought he ever had seep into them. “I’m an Addams .” A newfound fear reflected in the depths of Valdo’s eyes.

“You’re a myth,” he said dumbly. Deciding they’d done enough talking Jaskier tied the lute strings around Valdo’s neck. Hanging the man would be too easy, he had to send a message to anyone talking shit about his family. Pulling tighter against the strings Jaskier saw the knife cut reopen, and blood began to spill down Valdo’s shirt. Just as Jaskier was about to kill the man who insulted his family the door swung open.

“Enough!” Calanthe shouted at the doorway. Jaskier dropped Valdo on the floor and stood to face the queen.

“This failure of a man insulted my mother. Don’t interrupt an Addams when he’s doing his work.” Jaskier made to shut the door, but Calanthe threw her arm out stopping it.

“You don’t want people to find out who you are right?” She asked him, nudging Valdo with her foot to ensure he was still breathing. Jaskier leaned against a stack of shelves with his arms crossed. “If you kill this coward you’ll reveal everything. I’ll take him as a prisoner, make him serve a life sentence. Half the continent is terrified of your family, and the other half believe your myths. If word gets out about it people won’t believe him.” Jaskier hesitated, his heart itching to finish the kill. Logic said Calanthe was right though. If Jaskier killed Marx in the name of his family he’d ruin any chances future generations would have. He picked up Valdo’s shirt and wiped the blood off his face before throwing it back down on top of the man.

“As much as it pains me to say this… you’re right,” Jaskier said. He peeked past Calanthe and saw the party was still going on. He cringed, “I suppose I should’ve waited ‘till later.” Calanthe just stared at him, obviously done with his bullshit for one night. “Right, I’m assuming we’ll lock him in here until the end of the party. The I can help move him to the cells.” He bent low and picked up his lute by it’s neck. He played a few chords and sure enough, his instrument was still in perfect tune.

“My guests need music to dance to bard,” Calanthe said leaving him in the storage room with Valdo Marx to keep him company.

“Best to not keep them waiting.” Jaskier said stepping over Valdo’s legs, “no hard feelings right?” He asked just as he was about to shut the door. Valdo answered him with a weak thumbs-up and Jaskier grinned, “awesome! If you don’t mind, I’m going to go play real music for the people.” It seemed Valdo tried to nod, but instead his head rolled too far forward and he ended up smelling his knees. Stealing one last look at his handiwork Jaskier blew out the candle and let the door shut behind him with a click. 

Like Calanthe said, he had a crowd to please.