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Chapter Text

The first time, it was born of fire and desperation. Jaskier was pale, hunched over and sweating while tied to that chair. The bastard mage was playing with flames under Jaskier’s hands, threatening his livelihood and talent in one fell swoop. Yennefer didn’t know what drove her back to try and save the bard. He had never been one for sentiment and as anyone could tell you, neither was she, but there was something to the way he had distracted the guard, given her refuge, the way he treated her…the same, despite everything. So much had changed for Yennefer lately, she had seemingly lost her chaos, the one ability in her life she could tie everything to and yet the Bard still saw her the same. So yes, she went back for him and after wandering town for some time, she returned to the bar where she had met him and overheard the mage questioning Jaskier. 

“Please, I don’t know anything!” The Bard begged, blood running down his chin as he twisted away from the mage’s flames, his voice shaking. 

“No, no, no,” the fire mage taunted, “The songs in your catalog suggest otherwise.”

Then he brought the flames closer to Jaskier’s hands, and Yennefer winced as she heard the bard scream in anguish. 

“Listen to me, please!” Jaskier begged, “Please listen to me.”

When he spoke again, his voice was stuttering, hesitant but still trying to call up some of that stage confidence, “I–I am a bard,” he let out a staggered laugh, “I am brilliant. This is what I do. He grunts, and I tell stories. He mentions a witcher keep, and I turn it into a magical, mystical hideaway in the mountains. So please listen to me when I tell you this. He doesn’t share details.”

The other man let out a hum and Yennefer began to make her way further into the bar. He was letting the bard talk because he knew he would get nothing more out of the man. Yennefer could tell that the bard’s time was almost up. She would have to do something, and soon. But without her chaos…

“He does not have friends,” Jaskier continued, while Yennefer grabbed a bottle from behind the bar, “and he does not have….weaknesses!”

He brought the flame to Jaskier’s hand on the last words and Jaskier’s voice turned to a scream. Yennefer knew the time to act was now, the mage would get nothing more out of Jaskier. She slammed the bottle onto the bartop and the other man immediately looked her way, stopping the flames currently burning Jaskier’s right hand. 

Jaskier let out a laugh of relief as the fire left and Yennefer began to sway forward, putting on a drunken air. For this plan to work she’d have to be convincing. And if this mage was anything like the pigheaded mages at the Brotherhood, he was sure to underestimate a woman. It was always so strange how male mages could spend their entire lives surrounded by powerful women and still underestimate them. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” Yennefer started, slurring her words, “You lazy lout.”

She let out a hiccup as she made her way across the bar, leaning onto Jaskier’s right shoulder as if she was truely drunk, “Leaving me at home to rot!”

Luckily, Jaskier was nothing if not a quick study and he began to play off her performance immediately, saying in a very different voice than the one he was using previously, more of a caught husband than a  tortured bard, “Uh…uh…This is —this is my wife. She has nothing to do with this. Please let her go —”

The mage interrupted Jaskier, saying in an exasperated voice, “If you know what’s good for you, leave. Now.”

Yennefer turned to the mage now, looking him up and down while trying to keep her drunken stupor apparent. Jaskier turned towards her and she could practically hear his thoughts of shock and confusion. 

She truddled over to the mage and put her left hand under his chin, “Yeah,” she whispered, before saying in a stronger voice, “If you knew what’s good for you, you’d shut the fuck up.”

Yennefer let out a hiccup as the fire user looked on with a look of confusion and disgust before standing up, saying, “Have it your way,” before putting his hand to Yennefer’s throat and shoving her up against a post. He lit the index finger of his left hand aflame and held it to her face. In the background Yennefer could hear Jaskier shouting at the other mage not to hurt her. 

She felt touched in the strangest way. As if Jaskier could have done anything to help. The drunken look faded from her eyes and as Jaskier was shouting that Yennefer has done absolutely nothing, well, she took that opportunity to blow alcohol right into Rience’s face, taking his own flame along with it. Silly mage, didn’t he know fire magic was hard to control? 

While he writhed on the ground in pain, Yennefer took that opportunity to untie Jaskier and drag him away from the Tavern. They limped through the streets to Yennefer’s encouragements and Jaskier’s fucks, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the fire mage as possible. 

Finally they made it into a side street with laundry hanging from sheets and Jaskier pushed himself away from Yennefer, panting against a wooden door. 

“Who the fuck was that?” He gasped, cradling his still-burnt hand. 

Yennefer internally rolled her eyes and turned away from Jaskier, “How should I know, you’re the one he kidnapped.”

“You mages don’t all share an alma mater?” Jaskier began to ramble, his hand still curled in his lap “You didn’t catch him at an alumni event?”

She turned towards him with exhaustion in her voice, “You know, I was looking forward to a few more thank yous, perhaps some genuflection.”

“He’s after Geralt.”

Yennefer turned back towards Jaskier, “What? Why? What does he want with him?”

“You know, I assumed it was to drink tea and eat crumpets and wax nostalgic over old times. I don’t know Yennefer. So why don’t you conjure up a portal or do your mind talking and warn him? You owe him that.”

Fuck Jaskier for that. He knew exactly what he was implying. As if she was the one that owed Geralt something. As if she had been the one to trap him in a wish or a love that she had no intention of telling him about. Jaskier had been there. He had heard everything and yet Jaskier is so bold as to assume that she owes Geralt? For what? Saving her life in Rinde over a decade ago? She has saved his in return at least half a dozen times since then. What more has Geralt done for her besides given her heartbreak? 

Her eyes were shadowed as Yennefer said, “I owe him as much as he owes me. Nothing more, nothing less,” she looked around warily, expecting guards at any moment, “Anyway, I can’t. No magic remember? Fuck.”

If her hood was down Yennefer would certainly be running her hands through her hair. As it was she would have to settle for scrunched expressions and tight shoulders.  

Jaskier looked affronted, at what Yennefer quite frankly could not imagine,“You don’t get to play damsel in distress,” he started and Yennefer had to stop herself from throwing back an acidic barb. Then in a more pathetic and whining voice he continued, “That’s my job.”

If they hadn’t been interrupted by the guardsmen from last night Yennefer would have smacked the bard upside the head there and then. Unfortunately those men appeared and the head bastard started speaking to them. 

“What’s going on here?”

Jaskier, as he was prone to do, began speaking without even fully comprehending the situation, ‘Uh…uh, gentlemen, good morning. Good to see you, You’re certainly looming.”

Head bastard ignored Jaskier and looked directly at Yennefer, correctly recognizing her as the more immediate threat and she stared him down as he spoke, “Ah, are we working this morning, love?”

She didn’t give him a moment to lose and kicked him in the balls before bolting the other direction, praying Jaskier would have the common sense to follow her. She heard him shout out, “Ohh! Oh, she’s so scary,” as he began to follow her. 

Quickly enough, Jaskier separated away from her to distract some of the guards and Yennefer thanked him internally. She managed to make her way back to the whorehouse but quickly found herself in the position Jaskier had been in not too long ago. Trapped into a corner, Yennefer had the choice to either submit to the Oxenfurt guard or to use the out she had been given alongside Francesca and Fringilla. In the end, it was hardly a choice at all when she called upon Voleth Meir. 

Chapter Text

The next was after Ciri had been freed from Voleth Meir, while the few remaining Witchers were cleaning up the keep. Geralt was nowhere to be found, likely burying his brethren and Ciri was asleep, completely wiped out after overusing her magic. 

Yennfer was back in the laboratory, using her magic to clean it up from its previous state of disrepair. It was likely they would be staying here at least a few days before moving on and she wanted to see if there was anything salvageable from the wreckage. If there were herbs she could use or materials like the jasper, they could be invaluable when least expected. With her chaos returned, it would be a simple enough task to take it all with her. And she doubted the witchers would have much use of them. Not that she cared much. If the witchers could find the material before, they could find it again. 

She managed to collect some Dragon’s Blood, Maca, Burdock Root, and Cat’s Claw from the scattered benches that otherwise would have gone to waste. Those could certainly be of use in the future. Along some of the remaining shelves there were some tonics and potions. Yennefer headed over towards them and tried reading some of the labels. They were all written in Elder Runes but she was largely fluent. It was the language of magic after all.  Hmmm. There was Velys Tolv, a herbal tonic plant of the amazon, a potent antiviral against certain reptilian venoms. Ah, Hel Thempeikyn or Nettle, that would certainly come in use whenever their group was next to be injured. It was a natural anti-inflammatory and with the addition of magic, could be used to heal broken bones. 

She grabbed another bottle, trying to read it but the words seemed almost faded. That or Yennefer was more tired than she would like to admit. Why wouldn’t she be? She had spent the last few hours healing Witchers left and right, trying to save whoever was left. With a scowl, she turned to put the unknown potion on the table behind her but instead ran into a soft body. 

She looked up and before she saw the face the obvious red jacket gave him away. 

“Jaskier,” she said in a tired voice, “still looking for that hangover cure?”

The bard grabbed the potion from her hands and rolled it over, looking at the label. 

“If this is you offering I am going to have to decline,” he said, “I don’t think Pelysnym is going to help with my raging headache.”

Yennefer’s eyebrows rose and she looked at the label again. Sure enough, it was Pelsnym, a herb thought to attract love with addictive properties. 

“I didn’t know you spoke Elder.”

“Oh come on, it can’t be that much of a surprise. How else do you think I was able to communicate so readily with the Elves I smuggled out of Oxenfurt?”

“I supposed I just assumed a human wouldn’t ever bother learning the tongue of another race.”

Jaskier looked Yennefer in the eyes then, his voice softer when he said, “An artist, remember? Putting myself into another’s shoes and all.”

“Your acting could use quite a bit of work, that mage caught on almost immediately to our little ploy in the tavern,” she said while breaking eye contact and walking away. 

“My acting?” Jaskier said indignantly, “my acting was just fine thank you very much. I will have you know that I could make all the continent believe that you are my wife.”

“Truly?”

“Oh certainly, I would hold your hand while walking in the marketplace shouting all the while ‘look at my wife’ and no one would hesitate in believing my true and honest love for such a heartless wench such as yourself.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes, “The day you proclaim me your wife in public is the day I shall kiss a toad.”

Jaskier smiled, lazy and slow, “You have just given me a very dangerous opportunity that I shall eventually call upon.”

Yennefer browsed the shelves and found the potion she was looking for.

“Here,” she said, thrusting it into Jaskier’s left hand, “Grosh Tolv, it will help with your stomach and any headaches you might have.”

It was either a testament to their growing trust or the bard’s exhaustion that he drank the potion without so much as looking at it. 

“I could have poisoned that, you know.”

“I like to think you want me around a few moments longer.”

Unfortunately he was right. Yennefer felt the wave of exhaustion hit her again and she went and sat down on one of the benches, kicking her feet out in front of her and leaning back. 

“Fuck.”

Jaskier sat down beside her, seemingly pulling a bottle of ale from nowhere and taking a swig, “Yeah.”

She looked at his left hand where the scars from the mage still lingered. In Oxenfurt, she had seen that his hands had been badly burnt but without her chaos she had been unable to do anything about it. When Ciri ahd returned her and Geralt back from the plane beyond the Monolith, one of the first things Yennefer had done was go over to Jaskier and heal the burns on his hands. Sadly, a few days had passed and there were still shiny pink scars where the burns were. They would likely fade in time but for now they were an unhappy reminder of his torture. 

Jaskier saw her looking and gave a small wince, “They don’t hurt anymore,” he said, “and it wasn’t too much of a hardship the past few days either. It wasn’t as if I had my lute, it’s probably still still broken on that oxenfurt dock.”

Yennefer still looked at him, knowing he had more to say, he always did.

“You know, Geralt didn’t even notice the burns. I mean, I didn’t expect he would notice, Geralt is awful enough at seeing his own injuries. I can only imagine what sort of blindness that extends to others injuries but still. It felt. Wrong. He apologized. For what he said….well I guess you wouldn’t know but after you left that day with the dragon hunt, Geralt had some choice words for me.”

Yennefer found herself surprised that Geralt apologized. Whatever he had said, it must have been rather harsh. Geralt was not a man with spoken regrets or apologies. If he did apologize, it was often short and without much fanfare. 

She said as much to Jaskier, “I’m surprised he apologized.”

“Not as shocked as I was, I assure you. I didn’t know how to react. I still don’t know where we stand…where I fit it with all this destiny rot. Geralt has already decided he is the girl’s father and don’t think I didn’t see the look you gave her. You are already on the hunt for adoption papers. But me…where do I fit in?”

In a very Jaskier move, Yennefer’s mouth was moving before she could think, “You could come with us?”

Fuck. What compelled her to say that? What could Jaskier possibly offer to their party. He would be a liability at the first sign of a monster attacking or any of their many enemies catching up. As the bard himself had so aptly put it, he was a damsel in distress. 

Shockingly, Jaskier seemed to have the same thought process saying, “Yennefer, the likelihood of me slowing you down is a certainty and I am a walking liability.”

She winced, it was true, “I know that…I do…it’s just. Where are you going to go?”

“I’m a bard, a storyteller. I’m going to continue telling stories.”

He paused then, looking around the ruined laboratory, “Although perhaps I will leave out the tales of the Witcher for the next while. Focus on someone a little less hunted.”

Yennefer gave a small laugh, “Perhaps next time we meet it could be in less chaotic circumstances.”

Jaskier tipped his ale towards her, silently offering it up, “May we meet in less interesting circumstances indeed.”

Chapter Text

“Geralt!” Yennefer cried, throwing a spell towards one of the Redanian guards, “Left!”

Geralt spun around and with a grunt, turned down the left tunnel. Ciri was hot on his heels as they sped through the sewers of Vizima. Of course, in an ideal world Geralt would be move fucking faster but unfortunately he was carrying a rather heavy cargo over his back. An unconscious beaten and bloody Jaskier hung over Geralt’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

It had hardly been a month since Jaskier had parted ways with the three of them at the base of Kaer Morhen and she had already received news that he was being held captive by the Redanian Secret Service. Fucking Hell. 

The rescue had gone as chaotically as one would expect and now the three of them were racing through the sewers, Yennefer trying to make enough distance between them that the bastards couldn’t just track them through the nearest portal. Philippa fucking Eilhart. Of course she would be the one behind this. And while Yennefer was confident in her own abilities she didn’t exactly want to try and stack her own against one of the only few pupils Tissaia held in higher esteem than herself. 

Yennefer spun around, facing the guards chasing them and sent a wave of sewage their way, racing after Geralt and Ciri without a moment to lose. 

“Ciri, I need you to put up a wall,” she said, panting.

Ciri nodded and began chanting rapidly in Elder. A wall of thorns rose up from the ground and covered the path behind them, buying them a couple of minutes. 

Geralt looked around, judging which path they could take next. But Yennefer already knew what they had to do. She opened up half a dozen portals around them, gasping at the strain on her magic. 

“Pick one Ciri,” she said, trusting the girl’s foresight.

Ciri’s eyes flashed neon green for just a moment, a tell-tale sign of her magic use and pointed to the one on the far left, “There.”

Yennefer nodded to Geralt and they silently made their way through the portal, Ciri following behind. 

The portal led to some random inn Yennefer had stayed at decades ago in Poviss. She doubted anyone here would recognize them, if they even knew of the war at all. It was a small rural community, very insular. As long as Philippa wasn’t able to pick up the portal signature, they should be safe here for a while. There would be room for Jaskier to recover and for Ciri to train her magic. 

Geralt stripped off his armor and they set Jaskier on a bench outside while they got a room, looking like a family of weary travelers more so than anything else. Once a room was secured, Yennefer took Jaskier up and began to heal what she could.
Whatever they had been looking for this time, they were certainly going through more extreme measures to find it. Jaskier had cuts on his arms, blood running down his face from a broken nose, broken fingers and bruises on his arms where he had been tied up. It wasn’t the worst she had seen but she couldn’t imagine how much pain the bard had been in. She winced. If she had campaigned a bit harder for him to stay with them….this might not have happened. 

The wounds were quite fresh, likely done in the past day so she was able to heal them up with little fuss. The newer an injury the easier it was to heal. He was once more without a lute but if Jaskier really wanted one, she would procure one for him soon enough. 

Geralt and Ciri were eating downstairs. In truth, Geralt didn’t want Ciri looking at the aftermath of torture, the look Geralt had given her before they went to get food had said it all. 

After being healed, Jaskier’s eyes began to flutter open and he smiled when he saw her, “My wife has once more come to save me,” he said in a dreamy voice. 

Against her better judgment, Yennefer felt her cheeks heat up. His wife? Was he still on about that. Oh lord. 

Then Jaskier’s eyes began to clear up, “Yennefer….Yennefer!” He said with a shout, sitting up in bed, “How are you here? Did they capture you too? You have to be careful Philippa–”

He then looked around the room, took stock of the lack of dirt on his body and lack of injuries and then back to her, “Ah.”

Yennefer gave him a smirk, getting off the bed, “The Damsel in Distress has once again been saved.”

Jaskier swung his legs over the side of the bed, “This time I did nothing wrong. As soon as I came into Redania I was captured and brought in front of another mage. She was…much more powerful than the last mage. I shall never call you terrifying again after meeting this woman…wait,” he patted himself down, “Did you bathe me? Yennefer I have to know did you bathe me while I was sleeping?”

She rolled her eyes, “Have no fear for your chastity bard, it was a spell.”

“Somehow, this is one of the better times I have woken up in the same bed as you. My penis feels significantly safer.”

Yennefer threw some purple sparks at Jaskier, having them land near his thigh, “That can change at any moment.”

He swallowed and was about to speak when the door opened and Geralt and Ciri walked in, immediately Jaskier stood up and went over to Geralt, pointing a finger in his face, “Your witch–” he started only to be immediately corrected by Yennefer and Geralt’s simultaneous “Not his” “Not mine”

“ This witch,” Jaskier corrected, “is once more threatening my bodily person and after all this time I think I deserve some protection from her dastardly ways.”

Geralt looked Jaskier up and down, “Considering you have fewer broken bones than when I first left you in Yen’s care, I think it is safe to say her dastardly ways have done you a stroke of luck.”

Jaskier let out an indignant huff and turned around going back to Yennefer, “I have been betrayed at every corner.”

Yennefer shoved at his shoulder, “Don’t expect any support from your ‘wife’ bard. I’m going to get some food, don’t worry I will bring some back for you.”

She smirked at Geralt’s widened eyes and left the room quickly. Good. Geralt needed to be toyed with a little. Since traveling together with Ciri the two of them had been growing closer. Some of that previous connection was returning and there were times when they could sneak away to share time together but there had been little discussion of what they actually were for each other. As long as Geralt refused to have that conversation with her…well Yennefer wouldn’t mind playing with his mind a little. Let him ponder that statement. 

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Geralt joined her at the bar, sidling up next to her giving off the air of a kicked puppy. She sighed. 

“Is there something you want to say or should I just sit here silently until the bartop turns to dust?”

Geralt fidgeted a bit in his seat. Gods above he was bad at this wasn’t he? 

“It’s just. Yen. I know that a lot has changed over the past few months. And I know that you encountered Jaskier in Oxenfurt and I know that a lot can happen.”

He stopped then, saying nothing more. Yennefer waited for him to continue and then realized that was all he had to say. 

She snorted out loud, “Geralt, are you asking me if Jaskier and I are together?”

Geralt shifted in his seat again, “It’s just. You and I have been…and with everything that’s happened it wouldn’t exactly be fair to Jaskier would it?”

With that a laugh escaped her, she couldn’t help it, “So what you are asking me is if I am cheating on Jaskier. With you.”

Yennefer got up from her seat and cradled Geralt’s cheek, “My Dear Friend , whatever happens between us, I will be sure to let Jaskier know.”

With that, she got up and left. That night when it came time to sleep Ciri had her own bed, as she often did. Normally Geralt and Yennefer shared a bed when there was one or at the very least would sleep next to each other. Tonight, however, Geralt was looking at the bed with apprehension, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be there. Perhaps Yennefer had been a bit too vague. She motioned to him to come over with her eyes but he still did not move. So Yennefer went over to Jaskier who was going through some of Geralt’s bags in the corner, likely in an attempt to find something to write with and nudged him, making a clear look at Geralt and the bed. 

Jaskier caught on almost at once and got up, going over to the bed and looking at Geralt, “So do Witchers not need to sleep now?”

Geralt seemed to almost jump a little at Jaskier directly talking to him and Yennefer wondered when did Geralt get so, well she hates to use this term in reference to Geralt, but shy about this whole thing? 

Yennefer laid down in the center of the bed and with a wave of her hand it grew to a larger size, plenty of room to accommodate the three of them. 

“Come on Geralt,” she said, “I can see you falling asleep on your feet.”

Slowly, Geralt came over and laid down beside her. Yennefer could already feel sleep creeping up on her and sandwiched between Jaskier and Geralt, she had never felt more comfortable in her life.

Chapter Text

The next time Jaskier said “my wife” he had been traveling with them for two weeks now. They had just recently left Poviss and were taking a route due south. Geralt said Toussaint had recently become a neutral zone and they were looking to seek refuge there if possible. While Jaskier had protested traveling with them, Yennefer had pointed out that if he didn’t, it was likely he would be kidnapped again and they would once more have to rescue him. It took far too much time to constantly save him again and again and was really more expedient if he just stayed with them where they could keep an eye on him. 

It was almost surprising how easily Jaskier fit into their group. Of course he couldn’t exactly be relied upon in a fight but he was a wonderful distraction and he added some levity to their journey that had otherwise been lacking. At first, Ciri was quite hesitant to talk to the bard. He was loud in a way that was off-putting to her. For Ciri, loudness was associated with brawling Witchers and hearty drinking and battles. For Jaskier, loudness was for stories and raunchy jokes and filling the silence. Ciri had grown very used to silence. 

Shockingly, it was magic that made the two come together. Jaskier and Yennefer were off in a clearing, Jaskier was ranting about some minor noble he had met decades ago while she was picking berries in nearby bushes. 

He was following her around as he spoke, gesticulating with his arms in such a rapid manner Yenenfer thought he might catch air and begin to fly. Now wasn’t that a thought? A flying bard. She laughed a little at the thought. 

“Do you find my scenario comedic, Witch?”

She glanced at the man, stopping him in his tracks, “No, rather I was thinking of how funny you would look if your words and manner were so elevated that they simply carried you up into the air. A flying bard.”

“A flying bard? Is that even possible?”

“Jaskier. I can literally portal to the other side of the continent. I like to think that flight is not beyond my capabilities.”

“Well then do it.”

Yennefer paused, not quite sure she was hearing that right, “What?”

“I said do it.”

She blinked, “I’m sorry, am I to understand that you want me to lift you into the air and twirl you around like ribbons on mayday? Coming from a man who has on multiple occasions called me a she-demon that’s an awful lot of trust to place in me.”

Jaskier looked downright excited down, and clasped either side of Yennfer’s shoulders as he spoke, “Listen. Listen. I think you have been living in your mage bubble just a touch too long. What you have just described to me is quite frankly the dream of most humans. The ability to fly. To fly Yennefer. I could have died just a few short hours ago and now you are telling me there is a possibility that I could fucking fly? Just give me this, and if you want to kill me in the process just know I would have died a very happy man.”

Yennefer was more than a little confused but decided that maybe this was just another human thing she didn’t understand. Or perhaps it was a Jaskier thing. Either was possible. When she still didn’t say anything, Jaskier pouted. Honestly he was really too old to be pouting, what he was again? 30? 60? 

Jaskier said in a whining voice, “Isn’t it my wife’s job to make me happy?”

Yennefer rolled her eyes at the almost familiar joke. With a few muttered words in Elder, the bard was floating off the ground. He looked down and let out a yelp of surprise. Then he smiled and looked at her, “Higher Yennefer!”

She obliged, lifting him a bit higher into the air. He spun in a circle and twirled his arms. In all truth, it was not flying so much as mildly controlled levitating but Jaskier seemed to be enjoying it nonetheless. 

Then Ciri and Geralt broke through the underbrush and when Geralt saw Jaskier, levitating into the tree branches, he broke into a laugh. A real, genuine laugh the likes of which were rather rare from Geralt. 

“A flying bard,” Geralt said with a chuckle, “If this is another murder attempt you are getting creative Yen.”

At this, Ciri gave Geralt quite the look of surprise but when she saw Jaskier she did not laugh but rather her mouth opened in awe and she looked over to Yennefer. 

“Could I do that?” she said with stars in her eyes. 

Okay, Yennefer confirmed to herself. This was not a Jaskier thing but a human thing. Weird. 

“Any mage could,” Yennefer said before correcting herself, “with enough talent that is.”

Ciri clapped her hands and Yennefer realized that this was the first time in a long time she had actually seen Ciri act like a real teenager, “Please show me!”

So Yennefer obliged. She brought Jaskier down, the man pouting all the while, so she could focus on teaching Ciri the incantation. As was the norm with the girl, she managed to get the spell rather quickly and within a few hours, she was floating in the air. 

Jaskier came over to Ciri then and said, “My dearest Princess, would it be possible for you to oblige me another trip into the air yourself? It seems Yennefer over here has had her fill.”

Ciri nodded, “Absolutely!”

Within no time at all the two of them were bouncing comedically in the air. Yennefer rolled her eyes but she looked over at Geralt who was looking at the two of them with a fond expression in his eyes. 

Yennefer went over to Geralt’s side and leaned against his shoulder, “They look happy,” she said, starting off the conversation. 

“They do,” Geralt agreed, “It’s been…a long time since I’ve seen them this carefree. Ciri has had a burden on her shoulders since the moment I met her and Jaskier. I think ever since the dragon hunt there’s been something different about him.”

Yennefer nuzzled into Geralt's shoulder, “It’s not Jaskier that’s different. It’s you. He’s still the same idiot bard but now that you have more emotional depth than a teaspoon and are beginning to talk through your feelings more you are noticing new things about him.”

Geralt was quiet then said, “Before Ciri…was I truly that difficult to talk to?”

Yennefer shook her head, turning Geralt so they were looking into each other’s eyes, “Listen closely Geralt. I am very glad at your newly found openness but it was never how much or how little you talked. It was about how you would never let others in. You carried every burden yourself and it created a wall between you and most people you interacted with. The times we were most vulnerable with each other, the times we connected, those were the moments that you allowed me to share your burdens with you. These days, you are simply allowing that more often. And it’s making a difference.”

Geralt was looking at her with the strangest look in his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a moment before looking away from Yennefer. When he spoke again his voice sounded weaker than normal. 

“Yen. Thank you,” then he crushed her into a hug and Yennefer started at the sudden affection. Geralt was rarely one to initiate physical contact but she leaned into the hug all the same. He moved away from the hug and cupped her cheek and kissed her. 

They had been together more regularly lately but there was something different in this kiss. There was a feeling of resolution and acceptance that made Yennefer feel at peace. It was a feeling she was largely unfamiliar with but certainly one she wanted more of. 

“Yen,” Geralt said after pulling away, “I want you to help me carry my burdens, I want you in my life. I want Ciri in my life.”

Then Geralt stopped and looked up at Jaskier then looked back at Yennefer before saying, “I want Jaskier in my life too.”

Yennefer had the sudden realization at that moment that she wanted Jaskier to stay too. Together. With them.

Chapter Text

They were in a marketplace in Toussaint when Yennefer’s own words came back to haunt her. Last night, Geralt had pulled Jaskier aside and left her and Ciri to set up camp. It was unusual but Geralt had been acting unusual lately. She would often catch the man looking between her and Jaskier as if they held all the answers to the universe but in a language he couldn’t understand.
She didn’t know what either of them had done to earn Geralt’s scrutinization but the more she found him looking the more she became. Whenever they found time alone, fucking against a tree or a conjured bed (Geralt’s preference, not her own) she found he was more quiet in bed that he was before. He stated nothing was wrong and he seemed to be enjoying himself as much as ever but there was certainly something on his mind.

Then the night before he had taken Jaskier away and the two of them had been gone for hours. When they returned, the bard had looked flabbergasted and had given Yennefer a look as if he had never seen her before. Geralt had looked resigned. She had called out to Jaskier to get his lazy ass over and help with dinner and the night had continued as normal. Most nights when they made camp, they would often sleep in a row for safety and warmth and Yennefer had found herself sandwiched between Jaskier and Geralt most nights. Last night however, Jaskier had stated that he would be staying up late and she hadn’t seen him come to bed.

But now, in the marketplace, he seemed back to his old self, darting around from booth to booth, shouting about having culture again. Granted, Jaskier hadn’t exactly been allowed many of his previous luxuries on the road. 

“Is this what he’s really like in public?” Ciri whispered to Yennefer. 

Yennefer snickered and whispered back, “You should see him perform.”

“Is it even more extreme?”

“By half a league.”

Ciri looked at Jaskier in what could almost be described as fear. Understandably so, since Ciri already thought Jaskier had more energy than a human should know what to do with and imagining him with even more energy seemed a quite frankly terrifying task. 

Jaskier began to get into an argument with a florist over the price of some of his flowers, stating quite incorrectly what was and was not in bloom. Geralt rolled his eyes and walked over, ready to stop the fight before it started. The florist’s wife came over then and also began to argue with Geralt who stood there unphased. The shouting did not die down, with Jaskier and the florist growing louder and angrier. 

Ciri looked over to Yennefer, “I think you might have to step in.”

Yennefer sighed, “I know, but have you considered that the two of us ought to simply leave them to it?”

Ciri gave Yennefer the look that she so often used when she knew Yennefer was about to make a morally dubious but logically sound choice and with a huff the sorceress made her way over to the shouting. 

“Really?” Jaskier was saying, “You are going to tell me that Iris is not in bloom? I saw it growing on the outside of the fucking town as we walked in. How could it be out of season?”

“You fucking twat those are gladioli, we are months past the iris blooming season.”

Yennefer walked between them, “Men. Please. You are talking about fucking flowers. Tell me how much the difference is and I will fucking pay it.”

The florist sneered at Yennefer, “Come to collect this fuckface? Who do you think you are?”

Jaskier started to say, “This is—” then he suddenly trailed off. He looked around, taking in the crowded marketplace before looking at Yennefer, all anger draining from his face. A smile replaced it and Yennefer had the same realization Jaskier had. Oh gods, she prayed, please don’t let him —

The stupid fucking bard grabbed her hand and twirled her around much to the confusion of the florist. 

“Hello everyone!” Jaskier yelled out to the crowded marketplace, “I would like to inform you all that this woman is my lovely wife! That’s right, this is my wife and I love her!”

He turned towards her then, a smug look on his face and Yennefer scowled before grabbing his ear like a schoolchild and pulling him off to an alleyway. In the background, Ciri ran up to the now very confused florist and handed him some coin before dragging Geralt to follow the two of them. 

Jaskier was laughing despite the pain and Yennefer shoved him against the wall, “Why did you have to go and do that?” She asked. 

“Because now —” Jaskier said in-between bouts of laughter, “Now you have to go and kiss a toad.”

Yennefer smirked, and it was not a pleasant look, “Oh, alright then, I will just have to find a toad then.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened and Geralt stepped forward and Ciri looked on in horror but there was no time to do anything before the bard disappeared and in its place was a slimy, green toad. 

“Yen,” Geralt said in the most tired voice she had ever heard the man speak in, “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Please. Yen.”

“No Geralt.”

Geralt then turned and simply rested his head on a post, probably thinking about a world where Yennefer and Jaskier had never met. 

Jaskier the Toad seemed rather confused and rightfully so. He tried a pathetic hop but wasn’t able to make it far on his new froggy legs. Yennefer tutted, “Jaskier you really shouldn’t try and get away. Not only am I the only one who can turn you back but I also hear that Frog Legs are quite the delicacy in Toussaint.”

If a frog could cry it would be doing so right now. Jaskier gave her the most pitiful look a frog could summon but Yennefer was not moved. He would have to suffer this lesson. 

Ciri cleared her throat, “Yennefer. I hate to be the one to bring this up but well. Didn’t Jaskier say you have to kiss a toad?”

Yennefer lifted up her nose, “Yes he did. It was a silly statement I made forever ago without thinking that he decided to bring up.”

Ciri looked at Jaskier then looked at Yennefer, “Well it seems to me that there’s a toad right here.”

Yennefer laughed, “As if I would ever follow through on that silly bet, let alone with Jaskier the Toad.”

Ciri looked down at her feet and tried to project an air of innocence that really wasn’t fooling Yennefer, “But you told me that a mage’s word is their bond.”

“Don’t try and manipulate me.”

“But Yennefer, how can I truly learn magic when my teacher can’t even follow her own principles? Who knows what I might accidentally do if my magic begins to lose control…things might begin to break, our luck could go bad, clothes might be ruined.”

Yennefer narrowed her eyes. She heard the implied threat behind Ciri’s words. She would have to come up with a way to get Ciri back for this later. 

She looked at Jaskier who was backing up against the wall with all the ability a toad could muster, “Come here,” Yennefer said to Jasier the Toad. 

He gave a weak hop into her hands and she held him up to her face. Ciri looked on in excitement at her weak attempts at manipulation working and Geralt looked up in horror. Yennefer gave a quick, slimy kiss to the toad and then with the sound of a popped bubble, Jaskier was back on shaky legs and looking at the world as if he had never seen it before. He looked at his legs and held one up to his chest, hugging it. 

“Oh lord legs how I love you, so beautiful, so wonderful, I shall never do anything to put you in harm’s way again.”

He gave Yennefer a dirty look, “That was traumatizing. I now have a craving for flies.”

She sniffed, “You deserved it.”

“I am never betting against you again. You are the very definition of a sore loser.”

“Is that really surprising?”

Geralt came over putting his arm around Yennefer, he had an odd look on his face, stranger than he had even last night, “I think that’s more than enough excitement for today right? Please tell me that’s all.”

She shoved his arm off of her, “Yes that’s all. Do you want to find a place to stay for the night? We can talk to Anna Henreitta in the morning.”

Geralt nodded and the four of them headed towards an inn. The Duchess of Toussaint awaited them tomorrow morning.

Chapter Text

Yennefer made her way through the crowd, trying and failing to shove people out of the way. The marketplace was more crowded today than it was yesterday. Of course it fucking was. Executions were very popular to watch. Fuck. 

Needless to say, they did not end up meeting Anna Henreitta today because instead Jaskier had been arrested and subsequently readied for execution for crimes of murder and larceny. Something which people claimed they saw him do last night which made no sense whatsoever since he had spent the previous night entertaining her, Ciri, and Geralt by a fire. Of course, within hours of Jaskier’s arrest the three of them had found the doppler impersonating the bard but in the ensuing battle the doppler had died and Jaskier was already headed to the gallows. 

Yennefer had been hoping to rush to the front of the crowd and get close to Jaskier, to teleport him out, but so far she had little luck in making her way through the throngs of people. 

As a last resort, Geralt and Ciri had made their way underneath the gallows themselves and would be able to stop Jaskier from dying as he fell from the rope but that was a last minute option as they might not be fast enough to stop his neck from snapping. 

“Get out of the way!” She shouted, trying to elbow her way to the front but no one listened. 

She looked around and saw an old woman crying out, “That’s my son up there! My son!” and some empathetic villagers parted to let her through.
Fuck. 

Yennefer teared up then in preparation for her next words, “PLEASE!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, “PLEASE! My Husband! He’s up there! Please! I have to say goodbye!”

For dramatic tension, she leaned onto a nearby woman who helped her to stay standing. A lady near her looked over, “You poor dear,” she said, “a widow at such a young age.”

She began to whisper to the ladies around her and Yennefer was able to make her way through the crowd slowly but surely. All the while she was letting out cires of “my husband” and crying. 

Yennefer came close to the gallows and for a moment her heart actually did stop when she saw Jaskier standing there, rope around his neck. She swallowed tightly and shoved her way to the front. The executioner stood next to the wooden lever, ready to pull it but Yennefer needed to stall, she needed to get to Jaskier. 

“STOP!” She cried out, a desperate sound and the executioner looked to Yennefer and hesitated. 

The crowd around her grew quiet and she knew how she must have looked. Desperate, crying, close to the edge. The executioner came close to her and she said to them, “Please, that’s my husband up there, I never got the chance to say goodbye.”

There must have been some empathy to what she said or a trace of magic escaping her words because the executioner held out a hand and she was pulled onto the stage. Yennefer looked out over the bloodthirsty crowd and walked slowly over to Jaskier. She pulled him into a tight hug and whispered into his ear, “Hold on tight.”

Then in one fell swoop she cut the cord around his neck and opened a portal underneath them, taking the waiting Geralt and Ciri with them as they plunged down below. Toussaint disappeared in a swirl of blue and black magic and they landed in a lake. 

The four of them came to the air coughing and spluttering. Yennefer was helping Jaskier paddle to shore and the second they reached it he leaned into her heavily. She looked him over and patted his chest, tilted his head back and forth. 

Jaskier, for once, didn’t say a thing. He simply. Looked at her, still trying to catch his breath. There was something to the way he was looking at her…almost as if…

Then Jaskier pulled her into a kiss and Yennefer’s eyes widened. She was too shocked to pull away, to speak, to breath. She was caught up in the taste of Jaskier’s lips and the feeling of him against her. It felt…it felt…fuck. 

Yennefer got a hold of herself and pulled away. She looked over at an unsurprised Ciri and a resigned Geralt and a nervous looking Jaskier. Yennefer saw them all and she ran. She made her way through the remaining bit of water and ran past the shoreline to lean against a tree. Fuck. Fuck. What was that? And why didn’t she want it to stop? 

Isn't everything between them a game? It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. Jaskier was….he was…well he was one of the first people to not judge her at her lowest. One of the first to offer her a helping hand. He knew when to lend her advice and when to stay silent. He often seemed a better judge of her mood than even she knew and sometimes knew just the right thing to say or the wrong thing at the right time. He was funny and brilliant and his smiles filled her with a feeling she couldn’t help but relate to summer days and— shit. Yennefer wanted this didn’t she? 

A branch breaking behind her made her jump and she looked behind to see none other than Jaskier. He had a bashful look on his face and he gave her a shy smile as he held up his hands, “Promise not to turn me into a toad?”

She looked away, “I promise.”

“The other day— Geralt– well we’ve been talking.”

Yennefer couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that raced through her, “You have?”

“We have. And Yennefer. I think I love you. There. I said. I think I love the she-demon, the witcher, the women who first haunted my nightmares and then my dreams. I don’t know when I fell in love but at a certain point I realized I didn’t want to live without you and I didn’t know what to do about it. And then Geralt came and told me that he wanted me in your lives — together and fuck. I might be a storyteller but the whole point is that I tell the stories. I’m not in them and I had no fucking clue how to go about telling you—”

Yennefer held up a hand, cutting Jaskier off. 

“Jaskier. You. ugh. I have trouble with things like this. With Geralt, there wasn’t much to be defined just discovered. With you I feel like I’m a cartographer in uncharted territory. You are unexpected but predictable, strange but common. I don’t know how to categorize you and I don’t want to. I realized that I want you in my life quite a while back. But now.”

Jaskier stepped towards her, “But now?”

Yennefer moved to him, grabbing his hand, “But now I am realizing I don’t just want you in my life. I want to be a part of my life. To be with me. To be with Geralt.”

Jaskier was looking at her like she was the very sun in the sky and it felt addicting. It felt powerful. It felt like she was wanted and in that moment Yennefer leaned in, catching Jaskier’s lips with her own. 

He was not simply the teller of their stories. Jaskier was a part of their stories. And now they could continue it together.