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Yet Broken Still You Breathe

Summary:

“I've got you. Just keep breathing with me darling.”

Notes:

So this really is just an excuse for me to let my frustrations out through Jaskier. To the surprise of no one, this weekend when I was off at a con I aggravated my Achilles tendon, its inevitable at this point. Since I first injured it, it just keeps happening. And I also hurt my right hand, so no lute practice for a while probably till that gets sorted out. The self harm isn't anything too incredibly graphic, just Jaskier hitting himself, just thought I'd add it to be safe is all. And the ADHD tag, well I have it and this is my frustration piece so now Jaskier has ADHD.
Enjoy!
P.S. Before I forget, to everyone that has left comments on any of my fics lately I apologize for not responding but I want you to know that I have read them and they made my day every time, so thank you all so much!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“There we go.” Radovid said, gently setting Jaskier's bandaged foot on the mountain of pillows at the foot of the bed.

"Thank you darling.” The bard whispered, laying his head back on his own pillow.

The king joined him on the other side of the bed, pulling the soft covers up around both of them. He took the other man's bandaged hand, gently kissing his injured wrist.

Jaskier turned around, both feet propped up on the pillows, his injured hand next to his face. He let out an exhausted sigh, his eyebrows furrowing at the simultaneous throb of his ankle and wrist.

Radovid curled himself around his lover, burying his nose in the soft brown hair.

“What's wrong dove?”

“Nothing petal, just these old bones protesting is all. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix.” Jaskier sighed, pulling the king's arms tighter around him with his good hand.

“I can get you something for the pain.” Radovid offered. 

“No need, I'll be right as rain come morning, you'll see.”


Jaskier pushed himself up, his injured wrist protesting at the weight.

“Ow, fuck.” He muttered.

The movement jostled his ankle, causing a sharp pain to shoot through. 

“Fuck.” He groaned. Both appendages throbbed in time.

Maybe some writing would take his mind off, well, everything.

He reached to the bedside table for his journal with his bandaged hand. Only for the journal to slip from his too weak grip and onto the floor, well out of his reach.

Jaskier took one deep breath….then another…..then one more.

His good hand gripped the fabric if his trousers hard enough to make his knuckles go white.

He took one more breath, reaching down in an attempt to retrieve his fallen journal. 

Except he miscalculated and his balance was off. He fell to the floor with a loud thud , right next to his fallen journal.

Jaskier felt tears of frustration start to well up in his eyes, but he swiftly wiped them away. 

He spent twenty fucking years on the path, there was no way he was going to be defeated by two simple injuries.

He grabbed his journal, throwing it back on the bed and watching it bounce to the middle.

He curled his fist around the covers, pulling himself up off the floor. He grit his teeth at the pain going through his ankle as he stood up long enough to get back on the bed. 

“By the gods” he breathed, throwing himself back against the mattress. He threw his hands to the side, instant regret flooding his veins. 

FUCK!”

His injured hand throbbed painfully after having hit the edge of his discarded journal. The book stayed to the side completely unharmed, completely unaware of the damage it alone had caused.

Jaskier pushed himself up on his elbows, grabbing a pillow and angrily shoving it onto his lap.

He curled his good hand into a fist, hitting the poor pillow relentlessly.

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!!!” He yelled out. Burning tears slid down his cheeks, his breath hitching more and more with each punch.

His fingers gripped the soft fur of a cape, a sturdy chest rising and falling in even breaths against his own.

That's it dove. Breathe with me. In and out. ” A soothing voice whispered in his ear. 

Gentle hands carded through his hair, moving it back from his overheated neck. 

Jaskier let out a stuttered breath, practically gasping for another one soon after. 

I've got you. Just keep breathing with me darling.

The bard did as he was told, taking steadier breaths in time with those of the other person.

It's alright. Everything's going to be fine.”

Jaskier pulled back once he had managed to get his breathing under more control.

A pair of the most beautiful green eyes bore into his, worry evident in their irises.

“How do you feel dove?” Radovid asked, gently wiping away the tears from his face.

Tired. ” Jaskier sniffled, rubbing his eyes with his uninjured hand.

“What happened?” The king sat down next to him, putting a soothing arm around his shoulders. 

He shook his head, leaning it against the other man's shoulder.

Jaskier .”

He sighed, giving into the king's stern voice.

“I just-I’m just so frustrated! I can't do anything with this! ” He gestured angrily to his injured hand and ankle, “I'm stuck in bed all day, I'm can't walk for more than a few feet at best , I can't write because its my dominant hand I fucking injured, I can't play, I can't do anything!” He slammed his closed fist down on his thigh, not getting the chance to get another hit in before Radovid stopped him.

“Jaskier, this is only for a little while, once you rest and it heals you'll be able to do everything you did before.” He reassured. 

And what if I can't!? What then!?” Jaskier yelled, “I spent twenty fucking years on the path, this isn't the first time this has happened, but its never happened at the same time! I'm not as young as I used to be, my body doesn't heal as fast…. what if this time it doesn't heal at all?” More tears spilled down his cheeks, following the same path the ones before had made.

“Then….you find a new purpose. Isn't that what you said?” Radovid whispered, gently wiping the tears off his cheeks.

Jaskier shook his head, a sob catching in his chest.

“What if I can't? Who am I if I can't do the one thing I was put on this continent to do?” He curled in on himself, cradling his injured hand to his chest.

“You're still the master bard Dandelion, singer and songwriter extraordinaire. And no injury will ever be able to take that away from you.”

“But…what if I can never play again?” He asked meekly.

“You still have that beautiful voice. And if it ever comes to that, then…I'll play for you.” Radovid reassured him.

“You'd do that?”

“For you, I'd do anything.”

“Even leave everything behind to go with me on the path and become a bard?” Jaskier giggled at the thought.

“Especially that.”

Jaskier felt the tightness in his chest loosen the slightest bit. He knew the probability of his injury lasting the rest of his life was minute, but the thought was constantly in the back of his mind.

“Let me get you something for the pain.” Radovid whispered, gently kissing his head before getting up.

But he had a king willing to give it all up to be his hands….

Maybe if it did last a lifetime, it wouldn't be so horribly bad.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed! My injuries are doing better now than when they happened but it's still just a pain to deal with. As a musician myself and having injured my hands on multiple occasions, its just incredibly heartbreaking to not be able to play when you want to. But, we find a new purpose in life right.
Till next time!
Gods i dont know why the tags were not cooperating with me. Apologies if I tagged something I shouldn't have, I truly didn't mean to. Gods i hate technology