Work Text:
„Fuck!“
Lambert coughed, wiping away soot and ashes from his eyes, swearing at the stupid contraption in front of him. Another failure that had exploded into his fucking face. He hated this stupid fucking thing. Why could the powdered iron not react like it was supposed to? Why did he need griffon feathers and could not swap them out for eagle ones to achieve the color he wanted? It made no fucking sense, they could be substituted in any other concoction, so why not in this one?
And why was he even doing this fucking project? His skin tingled with the residue of his latest botched attempt and his fingertips smarted from too many small explosions too close to them. Hopefully nobody had heard the noise, if people came running, asking if he was alright, surely he would no longer be allowed to hide down here.
Lambert had been at this for almost a week now. He was trying to create an explosion that was pretty and not destructive. Something that showed that his talents lay beyond pure annihilation of anything he put his hands on.
Instead, he’d gotten a week of failures and soot, of hiding away in his laboratory instead of spending it outside in the sun. He could have been hunting, training, annoying some unsuspecting brothers - or he could have, if things had not gone downhill like they had.
If he had not ruined the one good thing in his life.
He needed this. Needed to show that he was more than a mindless warrior, a tool people pointed at the nearest danger and waited for him to destroy it. His hands could create more than blood and carnage.
He needed to show this to everyone.
But most of all he needed to show it to Jaskier.
The bard who trusted him so easily, who looked at him like he was worth something. Who called him handsome despite his crooked nose and receding hairline. Who had seen him and not stepped back but instead reached out a hand. Not that Lambert had not snarled and refused to take said hand at first. But Jaskier had not relented, had kept his mind and heart open, and now Lambert could barely imagine his life without the foppish bard by his side, without gentle fingers carding through his hair and soft lips caressing his neck in the morning.
Jaskier had never been afraid of him, never seen him as a mere weapon. The thought that this may have changed tore him apart.
He should never have taken that last contract. Lambert had been hired to solve a case of missing children in the nearest village. People suspected a vampire but as it had turned out once again humanity did not need monsters to annihilate itself. A man had abducted the children - and killed them in ways Lambert would not soon forget. With a snarl on his face and rage burning in his heart Lambert had all but butchered the man.
He hadn’t even noticed the blood on his armor until he had returned to their home and Jaskier looked at him with an expression full of worry, rushing closer. Lambert’s chest was boiling with anger and hatred for all of humanity, his eyes replaying the scenes he’d seen in that cellar, the small bodies he’d buried who had once been children until that sick fucker had taken them for his own pleasure. His mind was swirling, his heart hammering, and as soon as Jaskier touched him, Lambert snarled at him, all but shoving him out of his way.
“Not my blood, fucking smith got what he deserved.”
“Smith? I thought it was a vampire?” Jaskier’s blue eyes looked at him and Lambert could tell the exact moment he understood what had happened, that this was neither Lambert’s blood nor that of a monster. It was the blood of a human, the blood of someone Jaskier knew. The smith who lived in the same town, who he may have greeted just a few days ago while doing smalltalk. And Lambert had killed him, coldblooded like the monster he was.
Before Jaskier could say another word, before he could start to smell of fear and disgust and throw Lambert out of their home, Lambert turned away, walking into his laboratory. Nobody would follow him there, it was his refuge, his gift f4om Jaskier to work to his hearts content and they had established strict rules against disturbances in it due to the inherent danger of someone accidentally fucking something up and exploding the whole building.
He had not seen Jaskier since that day. Not since he'd all but fled from his partner to avoid the disgust and fear in his eyes. Didn’t even know if Jaskier knew what had happened. The idea churned in his stomach, did his partner think him a mindless killer now? Would he be asked to leave their home as soon as he emerged from his self-imposed isolation? The mere thought teared at his heart. He was so fucked.
Staying with Jaskier, building a home, allowing himself to hope and trust – it had made him weak. Lambert had survived decades on the path on his own, the mere thought of Jaskier abandoning him like he was some stray dog should not shake him to his very core. It was pathetic, but somehow, he could not wish for things to never have happened. Could not even bring himself in his own mind to argue that his life would have been better without the bard at his side. Jaskier had shown Lambert a warmth he had never experienced before, not on the path and certainly not in Kaer Morhen. He never had lived in a true home, never had a person he could trust to have his back, to see him and support him, to laugh at his crude jokes and hug him before he even knew himself that he needed it - not until Jaskier happened.
Jaskier had touched him with a gentleness and warmth that Lambert had never felt before and given him a place to just be. Lambert had learned the meaning of the word home with the bard at his side. Home was not a place, though a warm bed and a kitchen certainly helped, it was the place where he was welcomed with a smile and could let his guard down.
And then he’d fucked everything up because he was exactly the kind of mindless monster human’s always accused him to be.
Losing this after living in this bubble of bliss was still better than never having experienced it, though. Not that he would ever admit that out loud to anyone but Jaskier himself. And even to him only in the darkest hour of the night after one too many white gulls.
But before he would lose what he had learned to cherish so much, he would leave Jaskier with one pretty thing made by his hands. He would show him that he was more than a killer, that Jaskier never needed to be afraid of him.
It took him a few more tries and one more sleepless night to finally finish what he had envisioned.
“Fucking finally,” a wide grin tore through the soot on his face as small, harmless sparkles of light and fire danced around his hand. He had done it, he had made fire that hurt no one, that was purely decorative, and did not require magic to wield it.
He just knew Jaskier would adore it.
Maybe it would remind him somewhat of the fondness he surely had felt for Lambert before this incidence. All he could do now was to show Jaskier that their life together had not been a lie.
After a thorough wash - maybe a small sliver of hope that Jaskier would forgive him yet remained in his treacherous heart - Lambert emerged from his laboratory, surprised nobody had yet tried to boot him out after all the time he’d hidden in it. But nobody was there to grab him and ask him to leave as he opened the door. It was late in the evening, Jaskier would be in their shared rooms – or maybe just his rooms now, Lambert surely had no claim to them anymore. With silent steps and careful not to meet anyone, Lambert walked up the stairs until he could hear a melody dancing through the walls, a soft hum that soothed his broken heart. He wanted to kneel on the floor, stone digging into his legs, and listen to the soothing melody of his heart. He wanted to bath in the soft sound of his beloved until the day he died. But he could not. Could not stay where he was not wanted, would not watch Jaskier come to fear and despise him. He would give Jaskier his last gift and depart for good.
Opening the door to their quarters had never been so hard but to see those bright blue eyes again, it was worth it.
“Lambert!” Jaskier all but jumped him, hugging him before Lambert could regain his bearings.
“Are you feeling better again? I was so worried about you but wanted to give you time to process. Did you eat enough?”
Soft hands caressed his face, touching him in ways he'd thought to be lost to him.
“Darling, did you sleep at all? Are you hurt? Is that a burn mark on your neck?”
This was not what he'd expected, how could Jaskier treat him like nothing happened? How could he touch him as if they were still a couple? Lambert did not know how to react. He clenched his fists - was he allowed to touch Jaskier back with his blood-stained hands? Could he dare and reach out? - and remembered the gift he was still carrying with him. He should give it to him, see his reaction and take it as a treasured memory.
“For you.”
With the flick of his hand Lambert lit one of the candles up and pushed it into Jaskier's hands. Surely if his fingers lingered for a moment longer than strictly necessary on Jaskier, nobody would blame him for it.
His bard gasped, “Oh, Darling, they're beautiful. I feel like I'm holding tiny stars in my hands. Is that what you've been doing the last few days? Did you get stuck on a project to work through that last case?”
Jaskier beamed up at him, delight shining in his eyes, his free hand reached out for Lambert, pulling him closer until Lambert felt like he could all but melt against him, “Please tell me when you need time for yourself again, I'll try to respect your wishes but you worried me something awful, darling.”
“You're not angry?”
Blue eyes looked deep into his, as if Jaskier could see into his very soul, “Love, I was worried. I know you had no other choice; I know this hurt you. I'm just happy you're back.”
The kiss his partner bestowed on him was sweeter than any revenge or victory and Lambert felt like weeping for what he had been so sure to be lost. How could he have ever doubted his partner so? If Jaskier had not run away after so many months together, maybe Lambert could start trusting that he never would.
“Missed you, Buttercup,” he rumbled, pulling a delighted Jaskier closer as they deepened their kiss while the star catcher bathed the room in the light of the universe.