Chapter Text
Jaskier hadn’t been on a boat since his surgery.
He’d been on quite a few before then, and had a good time without any fear of getting sick, but he also used to be able to take long rides in the car without getting carsick.
Since his brain surgery a few years ago, that was no longer the case. So it would follow then, that he would no longer be able to go out boats without getting seasick. If he had stopped to think about it, he probably would’ve realized this had the potential to go poorly, but Jaskier often forgot to stop and think. And the person who always reminded him to was currently napping in the other room.
There was nobody to step in when Lambert offered to take him out fishing, and Jaskier didn’t realize he meant fishing in a boat until he was already fitted in a life jacket. At that point it seemed rude to say no, and still the fear of seasickness was distant. This wasn’t the sea, it was just a lake. The canoe couldn’t hurt him.
At first it didn’t.
He and Lamb went out with their fishing poles, and spent a good while just watching their lines. Lambert was the first to get a bite, and not long after he reeled in a trout. That was when his troubles began.
The boat was rocking gently now, and Lambert got his hook out of the fish without any trouble, but the image of the dying, bleeding fish, along with the movement of the boat made his stomach turn. He reeled in his own line.
“What are you doing? You haven’t caught anything,” Lambert questioned.
“I think I’m just gonna watch you,” Jaskier replied, carefully measuring the nausea that had settled in his stomach and deciding he would probably be able to work through it. As long as he didn’t have to put his fingers down a fish throat he would be fine.
“Aww, don’t tell me you feel bad for the fish,” his brother-in-law teased.
“No,” Jaskier responded defensively, although he kind of did. “I’d just rather sit back and relax and watch the pro.”
This was enough to feed Lamb’s teenage ego, and he accepted the excuse.
“Okay, but I’m gonna take us out a little farther,” he decided. “That’s where the big ones are hiding. I can feel it.”
“Alright.”
Lambert rowed with smooth, expert movements, but it wasn’t enough to keep the boat from rocking, and Jaskier realized that the nausea wasn’t quite as manageable as he’d thought.
“Actually,” Jaskier amended. “Can you take me back to shore? I think I’m ready to be done.”
“Are you serious?” the younger boy asked, incredulous. “We just got out here. It hasn’t even been half an hour.”
“I’m ready to be done, Lambert. Please take me back to shore.” Jaskier kept his tone even and calm, hoping that would let him know he wasn’t looking for an argument. Unfortunately for him, Lambert was always looking for an argument.
“Mate, do you really feel that sad for the fish?” he asked, smirking. “Are you going to go hold a funeral for it?”
“It’s not about the fish,” Jaskier said through gritted teeth. “Take me back to shore.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Lambert’s tone was still playful. He clearly didn’t realize the jeopardy they were in.
He’d stopped rowing, and now they were drifting in a slow, lazy circle. Jaskier’s stomach was tense and rolling, and he worried he might start trembling and make the boat rock even worse.
“I’m feeling seasick.” He was annoyed he had to admit it. “There, are you happy? Take me to shore.” He would have kept arguing, if he didn’t have to shut his mouth and bite his cheek to keep from gagging.
“Seasick?” Lambert went from smirking to full on laughing. “You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly serious.” Jaskier could taste his lunch at the back of his throat. He had left his equilibrium back on the shore and now he was paying the price.
“Oh, this is too good.” Lambert put a hand on his own stomach, laughing hard. “We’re on a lake,” he pointed out. “The water is calm. How could you possibly be seasick?”
“Take me back,” Jaskier ordered. “Now.”
“Or what?”
“Or, I’m going to puke. I’m not fucking around.”
“Really?” Lambert raised an eyebrow, and then to Jaskier’s horror, began to rock the boat. “You’re really gonna puke?”
Jaskier answered with a gag, which set Lambert off laughing like a hyena, and only encouraged him to keep going.
He was really in dire straits now, genuinely afraid he was going to lose his lunch out here in this damn canoe. His eyes darted around his limited environment. There were no good options. He either threw up into the lake, or onto his own feet. The thought of puking on Lambert briefly crossed his mind, but he would never hear the end of it if that happened. He realized then, that if he threw up at all, he would never hear the end of it from Lambert. He would dangle this over his head for years, and the thought of that angered Jaskier more than anything.
Deciding to take another route entirely, refusing to give his prick of a little brother the satisfaction, and acting as impulsive as ever, Jaskier bailed off the side of the boat.
“Oh fuck!”
Jaskier heard Lambert’s exclamation as he plunged under the water, bobbing up with the aid of his life jacket and pushing forward as well as he could with his limited swimming ability. He didn’t turn around to look at Lambert, but he could hear his laughter persisting until he finally, mercifully reached the place where he could touch.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lambert shouted from the middle of the lake. “Come on. Really, Jaskier?”
Coughing and gagging, he dragged himself the rest of the way out of the lake and flopped down onto the ground, feeling not unlike the trout.
“Hey!”
Someone was approaching from behind at a run. For a moment he assumed it was Geralt, but the hand that appeared on his shoulder did not belong to his husband, but Aiden.
“Are you alright?” He knelt down next to where Jaskier sat on the wet sand.
Jaskier was unable to respond, still coughing, and out of breath, not sure the danger of vomiting had quite passed yet—the nausea certainly hadn’t. Sensing he wouldn’t get anything out of Jaskier for at least another minute or two, Aiden turned to the only other witness.
“Oi,” he shouted, his voice carrying across the lake to Lambert who still drifted in the canoe. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Lambert shouted back. “He just jumped out of the boat.”
“Bullshit,” Jaskier sputtered.
Aiden turned to him, and he took a few more ragged gasping breaths before he was put together enough to speak.
“I was feeling sick,” he explained between panting breaths. Fuck, swimming was hard. No wonder he had no desire to learn. “I asked him to bring me back to shore.”
Aiden’s eyes narrowed, glaring at his boyfriend across the lake. Jaskier pressed on.
“Instead he started to rock the boat,” he continued. “And I really didn’t want to throw up, so…” he motioned at his dripping clothes, trusting Aiden to put together the rest himself.
Before he had the chance to though, someone else appeared.