Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Timeline wise, this is a sort of AU of season 2 where I’m ignoring all of Tissaia’s storyline after Cahir’s failed execution, and where Triss stayed at Kaer Morhen to guide Ciri to ensure that she wouldn’t end up destroying the world. Also Eskel is fine, because I said so.

To say that Jaskier’s day, which started off so well, had quickly gone to shit, was something of an understatement. It was, like many things, entirely Yennefer’s fault. (Okay, it was maybe a little bit Triss’s fault too, but Triss was an angel who could do no wrong, so … Yennefer’s fault, for sure). 

It began with Yennefer popping up in the great hall mid breakfast and announcing to the motley assembly of witchers, humans, and mages, that her former rectoress, Tissaia de Vries, would be joining them to assist in Ciri’s training. This announcement had been met with a general air of disinterest from the majority of the witchers, excitement from Ciri, and what Jaskier desperately hoped was extremely-well-disguised abject horror on her own part. 

That was 10 minutes ago, and Jaskier was now sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her pile of belongings and wondering what the fuck to do now. Part of her really wanted to stuff her meager possessions into a pack, bolt out of the keep, and steal off into the woods immediately. Knowing her absolutely terrible luck though, she’d probably only manage to trip coming down the stairs and collide head first with the very person she was trying to run from. 

Maybe if she just stayed in her room everyone else in Kaer Morhen would conveniently forget about her? She doubted it. Most of the witchers sure. But she was actually on fairly good terms with Yennefer these days, Ciri had taken a shine to her (if only because she was the only other human in keep - as far as Ciri knew anyway), and Geralt was … trying. 

So, she couldn’t run, and she couldn’t hide. And that did not exactly leave her a lot of options. Just the one, really… although actually…could she fake amnesia? Pretend she didn’t know anything? …no, dammit, the witch would see through that in a heartbeat. Fuck. Okay, so no, she really genuinely only had the one choice. Confronting her past, which she did not want to do, and had been gleefully avoiding for the better part of two centuries…

Goddamn Yennefer. This was entirely her fault. 

Right so. If the truth was all to come out - and it would, because Tissaia was on her way to Kaer Morhen and she couldn’t run and she couldn’t hide - well, anyway, if the truth was to come out, Jaskier wanted it to be on her terms. 

“May I have your attention, gentlewitchers and awful witches - not you Triss, you’re an angel,” Jaskier announced with grandeur as she strode back into the great hall, where everything was exactly as it had been ten minutes ago when she faked a coughing fit after Yennefer’s announcement and fled the room. “I have a confession I need to make.”

“You’re a shit song writer, we know,” Lambert said, not even looking up from his breakfast.

“Thank you, Lambert, you enormous asshole. I would be grievously injured by that comment on any other day than this one, but as it stands, I am working on a limited timeframe and there is an awful lot I need to say before the rectoress gets here.” 

“Tissaia?” Triss said in surprise.

“The very same.” Jaskier nodded.

“What could you possibly have to say about Tissaia?” Yennefer scoffed. “You’ve never even met her.”

“Oh, my darling purple-eyed temptress, how I desperately wish that were true,” Jaskier sighed. “Alas, I know Tissaia de Vries of Aretuza quite well. A fair bit better than even you, I’d wager. She’s my mother, after all.” 

There was a moment of quiet, then Lambert (the asshole) sneered. “Geralt, your bard has lost her mind.”  

“Shut up, Lambert.” Geralt, Yennefer, and Jaskier said as one. 

“Jaskier, what are you talking about? How can Tissaia be your mother?” Triss (the angel) asked. 

“The same way Geralt is Ciri’s father,” Jaksier said. 

“You’re trying to say you’re Tissaia’s child surprise? That’s preposterous,” Yennefer stated.

“And yet,” Jaskier sighed. “Look, do you want the long version or the short version?

“Short version!” shouted every single person in the great hall.

“...rude,” Jaskier grumbled. “Fine. Short version. 200 years ago Tissaia saved a viscount's life, the viscount was a cheap bastard and offered her the law of surprise instead of money, she accepted because she was youngish and definitely stupid, surprise surprise turns out the viscount’s wife was pregnant. With me, in case it wasn’t clear. Now, whether Tissaia would have actually taken me if it hadn’t been blatantly obvious that I had chaos brewing in me is really anyone’s guess (I’d go with no) but it was, so she did.” 

“But you don’t have magic,” Geralt said, confused. 

“He’s right,” Ciri added, “You’re like, the least magical person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m getting to that, for Melitele’s sake!” Jaskier threw her hands up, annoyed, and kind of wishing she’d tried to run after all. “Also, you haven’t even met that many people, princess. I don’t think you’re the best judge. And also also, that’s just a rude way to say that. I’m offended.” 

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugged. 

“Thought this was ‘sposed to be the short version,” Coen muttered in the background.

“The peanut gallery can, as always, shut the fuck up,” Jaskier shot back, “Not you, Ciri, you’re a peach. An occasionally very rude peach. Spend less time with Lambert, dear.” 

“Jaskier! Focus,” Yennefer said. 

“Right you are, my dear witchy friend who is, technically, entirely to blame for us having to have this conversation in the first place.” Yennefer opened her mouth to object, so Jaskier moved on quickly. “Anywho! Long version short, Tissaia claimed me, took me to Aretuza, raised me as a mage, things happened, I faked my death, changed my name, bound my chaos, wandered the continent, went to Oxenfurt, studied the seven liberal arts, became a bard, met a witcher, and you know the rest after that.” 

Jaskier flicked her wrists, as if to say, ta da!

…

“That version might have been too short, actually,” Triss finally said. 

“There is just no pleasing you people, is there?” Jaskier sighed.

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“I cannot believe that Tissaia had a child, a child! This whole time, and she never said anything!” Yennefer raged, pacing around the laboratory. Geralt, Triss, Ciri, and Jaskier watched her with varying levels of concern. 

“I mean, to be fair to Tissaia,” Jaskier said, “and may I just say that I absolutely despise the fact that the words ‘to be fair to Tissaia’ came out of my mouth, ugh. But to be fair, to her knowledge she did not, in fact, have a child at any point in which she knew you. She thinks I’m dead, remember?” 

“Still!” Yennefer shouted, dissolving into angry mutters as she continued to fume. 

“...right,” Jaskier said, edging away from the crazy sorceress. “Nice to see that mother dearest continued to inspire unresolved mommy issues well after my passing. Triss, you wanna get in on this?”

“I actually had an excellent relationship with my mother,” Triss said.

“100 points to Triss then!” Jaskier exclaimed, “She continues to be the most well adjusted person in this keep.” 

“Coen seems pretty well adjusted,” Ciri chimed in.

“He’s a witcher, darling. They’re contractually prohibited from being well adjusted,” Jaskier said.

“I feel like I should object to that,” Geralt muttered. Every woman in the room turned raised eyebrows to him. Even Yennefer stopped mumbling and pacing to fix him with a disbelieving stare. “...but I won’t.” 

“I think the word you’re looking for is can’t actually,” Jaskier said, patting him on the arm. “Unless you’d like us to start talking about your mommy issues.” 

“I don’t have - ” Back up went the eyebrows. “Nevermind.” 

Yennefer sighed. “I would offer to portal you somewhere else before Tissaia gets here, but I have no faith at all in your ability to not end up captured by our enemies.”

“Hey! … no actually, that’s fair,” Jaskier said. “It’s alright. This family reunion has been a century and a half in coming. I just – Melitele’s tits, this is going to be awkward. What exactly do you even say in this situation? Hi mummy dearest. Sorry I blew up half the experimental magic wing and made you think I’d vaporized myself. I just hated living with you in your stupid school so much I was willing to risk actually vaporizing myself to get away. ”

“Yeah… not that,” Triss said. 

“Definitely not that,” Ciri agreed. 

“I don’t know, I think it has a certain ring to it,” Yennefer joked. 

“It is certainly evocative,” said a wry voice from the doorway.

…

“You, as always, have the absolute, unquestionably worst timing of anyone I’ve ever met,” Jaskier said into the silence that had fallen after Tissaia’s entrance. 

“Hello, Julia.”

“Hello, mum.”

Chapter Text

“If I’m being honest,” Jaskier said, staring at her mother, “You seem significantly less shocked than I’d have expected.”

“Yes well, Master Vesemir was kind enough to give me some small warning about what I’d find when I got up here. I confess, I didn’t half believe him and yet…here you are.”

“Here I am,” the bard said, shrugging her shoulders.

The room was quiet for a moment.

“Well,” Ciri said. “This has the potential to become extraordinarily awkward, so I think we’re just gonna … go.” She grabbed her adoptive parents’ arms and towed them out of the room.

“Call for us if you need us,” Triss said, following the others out and closing the door behind her.

The silence that followed was heavy.

“...well, this is fun, but I think Ciri had the right id- ”

“Sit down, Julia.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jaskier was falling down into a chair before she’d even thought about it. Some reactions are hardwired into the very soul, and doing whatever Tissaia said when she used That Voice was one of them for Jaskier. That didn’t mean she was happy about it.

Tissaia starred at Jaskier. Jaskier starred a point on the wall slightly to the left of Tissaia. It was an interesting spot, that spot on the wall. A slightly different shade of grimey gray than all the other shades of grimey gray on the rest of the wall. She would compose a little ditty about that very interesting spot on the wall, if 100% of her brain power wasn’t currently focused on attempting to erase from existence the woman staring a hole through her (possibly literally?) with sheer willpower alone (most of her chaos being still locked up, after all, and therefore not useful in existence erasing).

Ciri was right. This was fucking awkward.