Chapter Text
“Do you have your pajamas?”
“Yes, Miss Priscilla.”
“What about your blanket?”
“Yes, Miss Priscilla.”
“What about your–“
“He’s right here, Miss Priscilla.” Jaskier sighs, holding up his stuffed duckling, Reginald, from where he’d tucked it under his arm. He scrunches his nose and pulls away as Miss Priscilla fixes his hair again. “You’ve already asked me all of that three times!”
Miss Priscilla gives him a harried smile and sighs. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m just so excited for you, Jaskier. Your first overnight visit!”
Jaskier grins at the reminder. As though he could forget! He’s been looking forward to this for longer than he can remember, and knowing that he’ll get to spend a whole day and night with Geralt makes it even better.
The past few months have been the best Jaskier’s ever had. Just as he’d promised at his initial visit, Geralt visited the next day, then the next week, and then the week after that, and Jaskier learned a lot about him during their time in the blended room. He knows he owns a horse ranch just outside of Posada that used to be his adoptive father’s. He has a favorite mare named Roach (Jaskier had giggled when Geralt had told him her name) that he considers his closest friend (besides Jaskier, of course, he was quick to add). Geralt has a younger brother, Lambert, and his best friend, Eskel, who help work the ranch but don’t live there. He also knows that Lambert’s a Little like him and that his Caregiver’s name is Aiden. Geralt doesn’t like cats, does like cherry garcia ice cream, and is the most patient man in the world.
Jaskier also knows he has a grown daughter, a woman named Ciri he’d adopted after her parents, old friends of his, passed away. He’s never met Ciri during the few supervised outings they’ve gone on, but Geralt talks about her a lot. Well, as much as Geralt talks about anything, Jaskier supposes. Geralt had said he’d get to meet her during tonight’s visit and he can’t help but wonder what she’ll be like. Quiet and pensive like her father or the complete opposite? Geralt says that Jaskier reminds him of Ciri when she was younger, so he figures it’s the latter. Either way, he knows that she’s going to be kind and gentle if she was raised by Geralt.
It was during that same outing, eating lunch at a themed diner with his caseworker Miss Yennefer (a very scary and pretty lady), that Geralt had gifted Jaskier a stuffed duckling. Jaskier may have cried in his excitement, and may have hugged Geralt a little too tightly, but all Geralt did was smile fondly at him and hug him back. Geralt gives the best hugs.
“Oh, you’re sure that you packed your…” Miss Priscilla starts before shaking her head, lowering her voice, and muttering to herself as she steps behind him and unzips his backpack. He giggles, his chest feeling warm at her thoroughness. Miss Priscilla has always been the nicest of the caretakers, but she took him under her wing immediately after he’d arrived. Whenever he’d asked her what made him so special she’d simply wink and say, “Us musicians have to stick together, don’t we?”
A sad thought hits Jaskier as he feels her zip his bag back up. If Geralt adopts him (and he prays to the gods that will happen), he won’t get to see Miss Priscilla anymore. She was his first friend here and has been endlessly kind through every heartbreaking month he went without someone taking an interest in him. She always pushes him the best on the swings, tucks him in, and sings him the sweetest lullabies. He doesn’t want to leave her like all of the friends he’s made over the years have left him. The realization makes his eyes feel hot and he chews at his lip.
“Alright, I’m officially clearing you of any more inspections-“ Miss Priscilla grunts as Jaskier turns and hugs her tightly, burying his face in her hair.
“If I go with Geralt, will I never see you again?” Jaskier mumbles. She smells like cucumber and melon, just as she always has.
Miss Priscilla’s quiet for a moment before wrapping her arms around Jaskier, cooing. “Aw, sweetheart. I’ll miss you, too.” She holds him for a few more seconds before she pulls him away and holds him at arm’s length. Her green eyes glisten with unshed tears and guilt pools in his belly.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad!”
She chuckles, shaking her head, “I’m not sad, Jaskier, I’m happy for you. You’ve been here so long and you’ve been so good and patient. You deserve someone very nice and I think Mr. Rivia is the Caregiver for you.” She reaches up and ruffles his hair a bit, mussing up her hard work with a fond smile. “You’re going to have so much fun tonight, I just know it. And if Mr. Rivia gives you your forever home, well, I’ll always be open for visits from my favorite little musician.”
Jaskier grins at her and giggles. “You’ll have to come see me for tea parties.”
Miss Priscilla laughs loud enough to fill the whole lobby, the few people standing around them looking her way curiously. “I couldn’t possibly miss a tea party with you, Jaskier. Where else would I hear all of the gossip and goings-on?” She looks him over one last time, straightening out his shirt and shorts until he pushes at her fingers, wriggling away.
“And you packed your sweatshirt, just in case it gets cold? Maybe I should check again–“
“Miss Priscilla…” Jaskier whines, clutching his bag straps and moving out of reach of her wiggling fingers.
She laughs again and grins at him, “I’m kidding, kiddo. I think you’re ready to go.” She looks down at her watch and winks at him, nodding towards the front doors to her right. “It’s time for a certain Caregiver to come get you. Let’s go outside so we can greet him when he pulls up.”
Jaskier’s stomach squirms with excitement and nerves as he takes Miss Priscilla’s offered hand, stuffed duck clutched in his other, and allows her to lead him out of the adoption center’s doors.