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“This is miserable, Val,” Jaskier whined dramatically as he pouted at his boyfriend. His lute lay forgotten in the corner of the room, and there was no way he’d be able to compete in Oxenfurt’s annual talent contest this year. His winning streak for the last two years would come to a close and Valdo would probably brag about it for the rest of the semester… at least, probably the rest of their lives.
He’d been so looking forward to being the first student to win the contest every year whilst they attended the academy, but noooo, Jaskier had to go and break his arm and ruin his chances. He couldn’t even blame his biggest rival and love of his life. So he was going to be a sulky little bitch about the whole thing instead.
“It’s your own fault, Jask,” Valdo reminded him very helpfully. “What on Melitlele’s Continent were you thinking? You could have killed yourself.”
Jaskier just sighed, this was an argument they’d had daily since the incident. “I’ve already told you, Val, the tree wasn’t that high.”
“You didn’t see you afterwards.”
A twinge of guilt ached in Jaskier’s heart. It had been Valdo that had found him under the tree, unconscious and bleeding. Jaskier knew that it had been hard on his boyfriend, but really it was just a minor concussion and head wounds always look worse than they are. The arm was the worst part. The bone had broken in two separate places, and Jaskier had needed to visit a mage to get it reset without damaging his nervous system. He’d almost lost everything. Without music he didn’t know who he was, but he’d been promised that he would make a full recovery.
“I just thought I’d find some inspiration,” he grumbled, still pouting even though he knew Valdo was right. “Wanted to be a bird… a birdy bard.”
“Idiot,” Valdo sighed, wrapping one arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, being careful not to jostle the sling. He kissed Jaskier’s temple and then rested his head against Jaskier’s shoulder. “You’re lucky I love you.”
The words never failed to warm Jaskier’s heart, but he still scoffed- it was just how they were. “You love the fact I can’t compete this year.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Valdo laughed, “but it will be an empty victory without you there. Perhaps I won’t compete either, in solidarity.”
Jaskier leaned into his boyfriend’s side, his good arm wrapping around Valdo’s back. “You don’t have to do that. No point in us both being miserable.”
“Sadly, I think that’s inevitable, darling. It simply will not be the same without you. I’d much rather spend the evening alone with you than watching second rate bardlings try and match your skill and beauty.”
With a strained laugh, Jaskier realised he had to agree. If their positions were reversed, without Valdo in the competition, it wouldn’t be a competition. It would be a massacre, and he knew he would have far more fun stuck together in their little room above the blacksmith’s shop. So with another dramatic sigh, he nodded. “Fine, dear heart, you win.”
“I have you, of course I win,” Valdo teased, and pulled Jaskier into a tender kiss.