Work Text:
Valdo wakes up with his arm slung around Jaskier’s waist. “Good morning, J,” Valdo murmurs into his neck.
Jaskier groans, sitting up and letting the sheet of Valdo’s bed pool around his waist. He tips his head back and Valdo knows Jaskier’s letting the memories of the previous night filter through his hangover: his return to Oxenfurt, heading to the Holly and Berry for a room and to drink himself under the table, running into Valdo, pouring his heart out about Geralt and the mountain, and them stumbling back to Valdo’s place.
"We can't keep doing this," Jaskier says as Valdo sits up to press kisses to his bare shoulder.
"Oh, this is fast for us," Valdo says, referring to their frequent breakups.
Jaskier scoffs. "This isn't that. I mean for good this time. I just got my heart broken. I know this always ends ugly between us and I don’t want to get my heart broken again and I don't want to break yours. We're not good together. I just lost a 20-year friendship, I don't want to lose you, too."
"Well," Valdo says, "that's a surprisingly mature and sensible end for us." He presses his forehead against Jaskier. "Do you want one more round before we're done for good?"
"Best not. I think it feels right to have last night be our last night." He presses a kiss to Valdo's mouth before standing and beginning to dress. “While I head to Oxenfurt to beg for a job, why don’t you tell everyone to meet for dinner at the tavern to welcome me back?”
With a final ruffle of Valdo’s hair, Jaskier is out the door. And just like that, a relationship lasting a quarter of a century has ended.
-----
"So you're really done?" Priscilla looks at them with a raised eyebrow. ‘The Bards of Oxenfurt,’ as they call their friend group, have gathered to welcome Jaskier back from his travels.
“Hand on my heart,” Jaskier says with a showman’s smile. He’s told them about his dismissal by Geralt and subsequent breakup with Valdo. He’s putting on a brave smile, but everyone at the table can see right through it.
“So, to clarify, you are officially done with both the witcher and Valdo?” asks Piotr, who has always been a bit short on tact, in Valdo’s opinion.
“Officially done,” Jaskier confirms.
“Shit.” Piotr retrieves his coin purse and passes a not-insignificant amount to Marcel, who takes them smugly.
“What was that?” Jaskier asks and Valdo cringes at the coming explanation.
“We, uhm, well, we kind of had a bet going,” Priss explains as everyone else at the table also hands a few coins to Marcel.
“I truly hope it was unrelated to the previous topic!” Jaskier says, offense bleeding into his voice.
There’s an awkward moment at the table until Essi says, “Sorry, Jaskier. It’s been years. You’ve been bouncing between Valdo and your witcher for a long time. It was the most exciting topic for a few years.”
“You all bet on my love life? I can’t believe Valdo is my only true friend!” Jaskier proclaims, which makes it very awkward when Valdo also passes a few coins to Marcel.
“You bet that I would end up alone?” he finally asks Marcel.
“Not…. necessarily. I just bet that you wouldn’t end up with either the witcher or Valdo.” When Jaskier starts gearing up for a lecture, Marcel defends himself. “Essi bet you would die on your travels!”
Jaskier whirls on Essi in offense. She puts her hands up defensively.
“I didn’t hope you would, or anything. It just seemed the most likely outcome. Let’s face it, Jask. You aren’t great at self-preservation. And anyways, at least I didn’t besmirch your character. Not like Piotr who bet your relationship with Valdo would end with you killing him.”
“You fucking snake!” Jaskier snaps at Piotr, completely disregarding the story he had once confessed to Valdo about wishing for a djinn to do just that.
“Priss bet that Valdo would kill you! ” Piotr points.
Priscilla looks entirely unrepentant. “Yep!” she says popping the P. “And double if your witcher came to avenge you. I thought it would be an appropriately dramatic ending to this whole tragic tale.”
“And Valdo would have of course bet that I would end up with him. So we have circled back to him being my only decent friend.” Jaskier concludes but sees Essi and Priscilla exchange a look. “What?” He turns to Valdo. “What could your wager have possibly been other than that?”
Valdo can’t meet his eyes, so Essi answers for him. “He bet that you would end up with Geralt.”
“You bet against yourself?” Jaskier’s voice is soft. All his rage seems gone at this revelation. He always could change moods with the winds, but always felt so strongly. It was one of the things Valdo loved about him.
“You always loved him more than you loved me. Who in their right mind would let all that love slip away? It just seemed like he was sure to come around one of these days. I didn’t count on him being such a fool.”
Jaskier scoffs a harsh laugh. “No, neither did I.” He looks around the table. “Well, I would just like to say, from the bottom of my heart, fuck all of you. I will now excuse myself to go to bed.”
Valdo watches him leave. Valdo always watches him leave.
“Hey,” Essi asks him, “are you okay?”
“You know what? I think I am.”
-----
Marcel’s lover has a still and makes them a spiced hard cider every year, but only if they bring the apples themselves. So as winter comes to a close, they head once more to buy a selection of apples for another batch of cider.
Valdo is just biting into an apple, sharp and crisp, when he hears a shout from Priscilla. Everyone runs to where she is standing, staring at the skull laying surrounded by apples fallen from her dropped basket.
Jaskier takes her in his arms and turns her away from the bones. He instructs Piotr to take her back to the farmhouse. When everyone is gone but him and Valdo, Jaskier begins to explore, creeping out of the orchard and into the woods where they find another corpse, clearly killed by something inhuman.
“Fuck,” Jaskier says. “We need a witcher.”
-----
The contract is posted and Jaskier vows to them he doesn’t care, but like always, Valdo can tell when he lies. But to his relief, the witcher that arrives has hair that’s red, not white, and Jaskier relaxes enough to be coaxed out of hiding in his house to join him in the Pike and Carp.
Valdo is regaling him with the story of sabotage at a concert when the door opens and in walks a witcher, red-haired and scowling. He stomps to the counter, buys a drink, then asks the barkeeper for information. “I’m looking for a bard. Goes by Jaskier, wrote “Toss a Coin.” The barkeep, curse him, nods to the table where Jaskier and Valdo are sitting.
The Witcher makes his way to the table and seats himself without asking. Jaskier won’t make eye contact, but Valdo glares freely at the intruder.
“You the bard?” The witcher asks.
“Yes, I’m a bard,” Valdo answers, deliberately misleading him.
The witcher looks him up and down and nods. “Look alive to me,” he says with a nod, then rises.
“Care to clarify that assessment?” Valdo asks, dumbfounded. “And also who the fuck are you?”
The witcher sits back down. “Lambert,” he introduces himself. “Geralt is my brother. Came home this winter moping worse than usual. Wouldn’t say a word about you, left the room if we tried to ask. So we had to guess what had happened. Eskel thought you had probably died. I said that you had come to your senses and finally kicked him to the curb. You look alive, so Eskel’s wrong, and now he owes me a new hunting knife.”
“Did it occur to you that you could both be wrong?” Jaskier speaks for the first time since the witcher walked in. “And furthermore, where do you get off making bets about me when you’ve never even met me?”
Lambert looks between Jaskier and Valdo, before asking “ You’re the bard?”
“Yes, I’m Jaskier, the only fool in the Continent foolish enough to waste 20 years on your brother. Who, by the way, has no right to act sad or upset. Next time you see him, you should remind him that once again, his problems are of his own making.”
Lambert thinks through Jaskier’s words. “You didn’t leave him,” he concludes from the outburst.
“Clearly I did,” Jaskier snaps.
“Not by your choice.” He nods again, as if he has solved a great mystery. Valdo hates him already. “Well, Jaskier, if you ever find yourself wanting to travel with a witcher again, my reputation could use a boost as well. Plenty of songs to be sung about the Scarlet Wolf.”
“Unfortunately,” Jaskier answers through gritted teeth, “my days of traveling with and singing about witchers are behind me. Next time I travel, it will be alone.”
“Your choice,” Lambert says with a shrug. “The offer stands. Or find Eskel. I bet he’d love to argue poetry with you.” He finishes his drink and stands. “Any messages for Geralt before I go?”
Jaskier shrugs. “There’s nothing I care to tell him. There’s nothing he’d care to hear. Save yourself the trouble.”
Lambert nods one more time and leaves.
-----
When Jaskier decides he wants to travel again, no one can stop him. He’s always had itchy feet, never content to stay in one place long. Selfishly, Valdo had hoped that ending things with Geralt would inspire Jaskier to settle down, but as the days warm, Jaskier begins setting his affairs in order for him to leave.
“Take care,” Essi tells him. “I would hate to win the bet after all this.”
He laughs and kisses her on the temple. “Don’t worry. Without a witcher to drag my in the path of monsters, I bet I’ll hardly be in any danger at all.”
-----
The rumors of his capture come less than three months later. Essi is inconsolable.
-----
Valdo is singing at the Pike and Carp when the door flies open and a white-haired witcher bursts in. He looks at Valdo, standing on stage and holding a lute and his face flicks through fear, relief, realization, and despair, before he pushes his way to the bar.
“Is Jaskier here? Jaskier the bard?”
“No,” the barkeeper stammers. “He’s been gone for months. Last I heard, Nilfgaard had him.”
“Fuck.”
Geralt turns to leave. Just like he had done to Jaskier for two decades, Valdo stands and watches him go.
-----
The war rages on. Oxenfurt is lucky. It’s not a significant stronghold, not known for any valuable commerce other than art and education. It’s most significant change is the influx of refugees, seeking a respite from the cruelties of war. Valdo, often joined by Essi or Priscilla, checks every arriving caravan for Jaskier. He never arrives.
One day, Essi runs to Valdo’s house, pounding the door down. He opens for her and she holds out a note, not even the size of her hand.
Safe with G
-J
They must look like lunatics to any passerbys, but Valdo grabs Essi and spins her in a joyous dance on his doorstep, laughing and crying with relief.
-----
One cold and foggy morning, Valdo receives a letter, addressed to The Bards of Oxenfurt, with a note on it in Jaskier’s hand for it to be opened with everyone gathered together. He sets out to gather everyone up. They end up in Priscilla’s home, sitting around her table.
“Priss? You want to do the honors?” He holds the letter out and she takes it and opens it. Her eyes skim over it, then she laughs and passes it to her left.
Essi reads it with Marcel reading over her shoulder. She laughs and he sighs. “Shit.”
Piotr snatches the letter, glances at it, groans, and drops it on the table.
The letter lands on the table and Valdo can read the one line written on the page.
Valdo wins.
-J