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Albert shuffled through the castle’s halls on his way to the King’s quarters, now and again sighing dramatically for anyone who would care to hear.
There was another one. Another new composition from the feather of Jaskier, embarrassingly, unnervingly and pathetically pining for the King of Redania. If he had to sing one more uninspired floral metaphor for the impossibility of their love, one more desperate attempt to describe the color of his hair or eyes, one more vague accusation of who carried the blame for their separation, he would most definitely lose his very last intact nerve.
But alas, he was the royal bard of Tretogor, meaning his job was, most of all, to gather all of Jaskier’s compositions as soon as they came out and play them to his King.
He might not have particularly liked his job, ever, but he did, begrudgingly, like his lord. They’d had a rough start, back when he had been a seemingly arrogant and idiotic prince with no regard for the mental state of those around him, when he had, with no remorse, forced him to play Jaskier’s songs again and again, each and every day. But after Vizimir’s assassination, he had come to know the real Radovid. A talented, intelligent and caring ruler – with an unhealthy obsession with the Dandelion and the habit of listening to one and the same song endless times in a row – but an honorable king nonetheless. Albert had come to terms with the fact that if himself playing these songs for him gave him the strength to rule this kingdom to his best possibilities and lead the North out of the war, he would heroically sacrifice his sanity for it.
But now the war was over, the lion cub of Cintra had reclaimed her throne – with King Radovid’s secret help, some voices whispered – and still, the matter of the King and the Dandelion was not resolved. He had to play these irritating songs to him and watch him work through at least eight different emotions in less than three minutes, but when he dared to ask him why he did not simply write a letter, the King would answer, with an almost convincing laugh: “This is not about me.”
“Really? ‘Silver eagle claws at my heart’?”
“Could mean anything.”
“‘Crimson red banners, the color of my desire’?”
“Play it again, Albert.”
He had settled on the understanding that he would never understand. All he knew was that this had to end. He could only hope that Jaskier would attend the next gathering of the bard’s guild in Oxenfurt so he could give him a proper tongue-lashing, because who did he think he was, torturing one of his own like this?
„The King has a visitor“, the guards Hanik and Matej stopped him in front of his quarters. Had it been anyone else, he would have left right away. The guards did not hold him in high regard, for reasons unbeknown to him, for it could not possibly be his outstanding wit or his unwavering confidence. With Hanik, however, he had lately shared some rather… intimate moments. Even if the guard thereafter acted as if he had forgotten about it in his drunken haze – which most definitely did not bother Albert in the slightest way – the bard was prepared to test the waters.
„Oh, does he now… May I ask who it is?“
„You may not, songbird.“
Albert instinctively crinkled his nose in offense at the nickname all of the guard ridiculed him with, but then he noticed a somewhat affectionate tone to it this time. The funny feeling in his stomach made him wonder if maybe he should not have drunk that entire jug of buttermilk he had found standing around in the kitchens earlier that day.
„Oh, come on Hanik, I thought we had gotten past our differences. Did that night mean nothing to you?“, he teased, possibly provoking him a counterproductive amount.
Matej raised an amused eyebrow at his comrade.
„He destroyed me at gwent because I was too wasted, okay?“, Hanik rushed to explain, conveniently leaving out the little detail that he’d had to take off a piece of clothing every time he had lost, until Albert had had mercy on him and taken off his own. Then, he returned to the bard: „And just because I… respect your skills, doesn’t mean I’ll disobey my orders!“
Albert wanted to keep his protests going when they heard the king’s agitated voice from inside the rooms.
„How many times do I have to tell you? He does not want to see me, he does not want to hear of me, he does not want to know of my existence ever again! He has made that very clear that day in Novigrad.”
The three men pressed their ears against the door, all subordination to any code of honor flown out of the window.
„Have you perhaps considered”, a woman tried to keep her voice calm but did not exactly succeed, „that he is an idiot? You must be the only soul on the continent that has not realized it yet.”
„Because he is not!“ Radovid’s voice had taken on a suspiciously defensive tone. „I shall respect his wishes. Should they have changed, he may very well tell me himself.”
„Funnily enough, that is exactly what he told me, too.“
„Me?!“, the King was losing his cool. The three eavesdroppers exchanged excited glances. „Have I not done enough already? Does he think it was easy to restore Cintra as a sovereign state? A wave of my hand?”
„I do not know what he thinks, your Highness. My mind reading skills have always failed to get through that thick skull of his, so I’d prefer you asked him yourself. But I believe he has had enough of the grand gestures and would prefer something of a more personal sort…”
„What’s that supposed to mean?” Albert could not remember ever having heard that embarrassing pitch in his lord’s voice. Matej snickered next to him.
„You know what? Figure it out.”
Suddenly, the door was opened, and Matej, Hanik and Albert all fell to the feet of a dark-haired woman dressed in black and white. She merely rolled her eyes and stepped over them. The King, fortunately, perceived none of this, pacing his rooms deep in thoughts. Hanik got up first and slowly, quietly, closed the squeaking door again before offering Albert his hand. The bard made a point of not taking it and standing up himself, running after the woman.
He had sung often enough about the scent of lilac and gooseberries to know who that woman was. This was his one chance.
„Lady Yennefer!” The sorceress did not even turn her head as he chased after her. „Lady Yennefer, just a moment, please!”
He had finally reached her and decided to just talk to her in walking, as she showed no intention to stop.
„Albert Reynard of the Weeping Shores, pleasure to meet you. I’ve, uh, sung quite a lot about you.”
Yennefer of Vengerberg eyed him from the side. „That’s a made up name.”
„Too poetic to be true, right?“, Albert grinned with pride, receiving another roll of her eyes in response.
„Listen, honorable Lady, I believe we have a common problem we would like to solve.”
„I am sorry, last time I checked I did not have any warts in my private region. I suggest consulting a medic”, she replied coldly.
Albert stopped in his tracks for a moment, scandalized and utterly offended. But then he remembered the suffering her own part of this tragic duo must be causing her, deciding to let it slide.
„I am speaking of one awfully pining bard and one even worse King, if you know what I mean, which I think you do. A problem so easily solved if we only worked together.”
Finally, the sorceress stopped and looked at him with her violet eyes, something glimmering in them that looked all too much like hope.
„I am listening?”
***
„What is it, Albert, I am quite busy. You might not know this, but I am somewhat of a King around here.”
Radovid had been in a terrible mood ever since the day Yennefer had visited. He had refused to listen to Jaskier’s song, which should have been what Albert wanted, but the King was so rattled, the bard as well as the guards and even the spymaster and the sorceress worried he would randomly start another war against the next monarch he met.
„Have I ever disappointed you, your Highness?”, Albert chirped.
„Well, I remember that one time you wanted me to believe something composed by Valdo Ma-”
„I thought we were past this, your Highness”, he interrupts him nervously. “I had done it in self-defense. This is something entirely different.”
„What is it then?”
Albert found it hard to admit to himself, but he had not considered to come up with a real lie to lure him. Which was unfortunate, considering he was not exactly talented in improvising.
„I found a- uh, a scroll! An ancient one! Very ancient! You have to see it!”
„Why did you not bring it?”
„It‘s- uh- It‘s way too old, my Lord, I figured it would fall apart if I took it out of the environmental parameters it was used to.”
Radovid pulled his eyebrows together and watched him through squinting eyes. This is it, Albert thought, the North will fall and it will all be my fault. But then, the King just shrugged and kept following him. If there was one thing besides poetry – and, well, Jaskier – that the King loved, it was ancient texts.
They came to a halt before a broom closet.
„In here? Albert, are you pulling my leg?“ The rumble in his voice most obviously served to remind him of the punishment written in stone for pulling the King’s leg. Albert could not exactly remember it, but he was sure he did not want to find out.
„Nooo, just see for yourself!“
Radovid, shockingly gullible for someone so paranoid his precautionary actions had ended up with him being known as “The Stern”, took one step into the closet and it was enough. Albert pushed him inside and shut the door, Hanik and Matej, who had been standing put, rushing to help him hold it closed.
The King banged against it with his fists. “Albert, what in the name of-”
The crackling sound of a portal, the surprised noise of a certain bard, the whooshing sound of said portal closing, an agonized scream: „YENNEFER!!!”
In an instant, it was King Radovid’s turn to scream: „Albert I will have you hanged and quartered and exiled for treason in exactly this order if you don’t open this door immediately! Guards! Guards!!!”
„Forgive me, your Highness, the bard is acting in the best interest of you and your kingdom”, Hanik revealed himself with fearful eyes. Again, Albert had this funny feeling in his stomach, which confused him. He had had no buttermilk today.
Another portal opened, now in the hallway next to them, Lady Yennefer stepping out of it. It was only now that Albert realized Lady Eilhart must have taken down her magical shields for this endeavor, risking homeland security to end the pining.
All four of them pressed their ears to the door.
„Wow, you really do not want to talk to me, do you?“, Jaskier said, offense and hurt in his voice.
„Do you?”, the King returned, not without hurt of his own.
„I don‘t want to talk to you unless you want to talk to me!“
Albert and Yennefer exchanged exasperated glances.
„Melitele, what does that even mean, Jaskier? What more did you expect from me? Everything I did, I did for you! I kept you safe as well as I could from afar, I ended the war as quickly as I could to do that, fuck, I even risked everything returning Cintra to Cirilla! How, in all the gods’ names, could you possibly believe that I do not want to talk to you?”
„You did all of that because you had a bad conscience. Not because you cared for me. You made that quite clear.“
Albert had once witnessed a child sneaking up on a goat to hit it with a stick out of the blue. The sound Radovid made reminded him of that goat’s scream.
„Jaskier”, he could not keep his voice down, practically yelling at the bard: “Why in all the gods’ names would I do all of this from a bad conscience? I wanted to make up for what I had done, yes, but I mostly wanted you to be safe. To be happy. Because of course I care for you! Melitele, I have never cared for anyone like I do for you. There. Are you happy now?”
Jaskier did not wait one second before yelling back: “Then why didn‘t you say that back in Novigrad?”
„I obviously did not want to pressure you into having to return these feelings or something!”
„Oh come on, everyone knew these feelings were already there!“
They finally stopped screaming and remained silent for a while.
„I. I didn’t. I thought…“, Radovid stammered. After another moment of silence, he realized: “By the gods, you are an idiot!”
“Oh yeah, and what are you?”, Jaskier retorted with a defensive tone that lacked the venom of before. He continued, softer: “Are we perhaps the biggest idiots on the continent?”
Yennefer, Albert and the guards nodded like one head.
Albert’s ear began to hurt, so he turned his head to press the other one against the splintered wood, unexpectedly finding himself face to face with Hanik. He was smiling at him, and as a first instinct, Albert found himself smiling back. Idiot, he thought. He couldn’t just smile at someone who was so embarrassed he’d slept with him that he pretended not to remember – he did not care, of course, it was a mere matter of self-respect. But his chocolate brown eyes were so huge, so soft and innocent…
„You did all of that for me, then played it down so I wouldn’t feel pressured?”, Jaskier spoke again, his voice lower, brittle.
„Well, yeah. I guess- I guess it was stupid, but I- I thought it would’ve been inappropriate to just appear going ‚Hi, I helped end the war and restore the sovereignty of Cintra for you because I’m pretty sure you are the love of my life, I would really appreciate it if you came live with me because I don’t quite know how to live without you’, you know, all that kind of stuff, I didn’t- hmmpf!”
Hanik offered his fist for him to bump and this time, Albert did not leave him hanging. Matej made a cheering gesture and Yennefer let out an exasperated „fucking finally“ – though Albert could have sworn he’d heard a smile somewhere in there.
They awkwardly lingered as the kissing sounds continued, Albert finding himself sinking deeper and deeper into Hanik’s eyes. What was up with that man? If he cared so little for him, then why did he keep looking at him like that? Why did his voice soften whenever he spoke to him? Why did he speak up in his favor?
Albert must have been imagining all of that, naturally. Not because he had feelings, of course, but because their night together had just been that good. It was a shame, really, that the armor hid his broad, defined chest like that. It was a good chest – he preferred it with a little more hair, usually, but still, a good chest. Generally, a good body, he had to admit. And the worst part of it all – he knew exactly how to use it, even drunk. And maybe, just maybe, there had been a gentleness to it all that still haunted him in his more pleasurable dreams. If he did not know better he would have called it ‘affection’.
A moan, something falling to the ground.
„Alright, everyone, our work here is done”, Yennefer proclaimed, standing up straight and clapping her hands twice.
Albert shot up with a bright red head, agreeing and chasing the images of being trapped in a broom closet with Hanik out of his mind.
„Maybe we should, uh-”
The sorceress didn’t need to hear more. With a wave of her hand, a „do not disturb” note with a universally understandable pictograph appeared on the door.
„Thank you for your assistance, bard”, she offered in a neutral tone. A portal appeared next to her and she vanished before Albert could ask if she would ever return to pick Jaskier up and take him home. He supposed that meant he had just moved in.
„Did I just voluntarily give up my job to someone else?”, Albert pondered as he and Hanik walked the hallways back to his room, their arms – accidentally, no doubt – brushing from time to time. He could have moved further away, of course, but he was not one to step out of other people’s way.
The guard shrugged. „Maybe. But I can‘t imagine the King would fire you, songbird. You basically saved the North today. Actually, he might knight you or something. Maybe we’ll finally get to hear some of your own compositions. I would like that.”
„Would you, now?” Albert turned away to hide his blush. His stomach had been acting up for a while. Maybe he should talk to the medic about it.
When they arrived at his door, Hanik lingered, uneasily shifting from one foot to the other.
„Anything more you want to say, Hanik?” Against all his instincts, that had come out harsh again.
“See, this is exactly why I don’t know what to do with you”, he pulled his brows together in confusion. “On the one hand, I think it’s crazy hot that you are, you know, a little bitchy and all that, on the other hand I never know if you’re just talking like that or if you actually hate me.”
For some reason, Albert’s heart was hammering in his chest. Great, now he had to worry about heart disease, too.
“‘Crazy hot?’ I remember you thought I was quite… unmemorable.”
Hanik sighed in defeat.
“Of course I can remember it, songbird. And I didn’t pretend because I was embarrassed or something, it’s just that I… you made it quite clear that it meant nothing, and I played along, but, you know, I usually don’t do these things if they don’t mean anything, no matter how drunk I am.”
He was having a heart attack, he just knew it. But instead of running for the medic, he asked: “Why are you telling me now?”
“Look, I’m not good with words, not like you, but… his Highness back there just showed us the dangers of bad communication, so I… I thought to maybe just, you know, ask you… if you meant that? That it doesn’t mean anything? When you said it several times?”
Albert’s first conscious thought was that he couldn’t believe his King’s idiocy had ended up being good for something. His second thought was that he was apparently in fact a little bitch – which Hanik liked, though, so whatever. His third thought was that he needed to get railed by this man this instant.
“I don’t know… Maybe we should give it another try, you know, just so I can check…”
Hanik’s eyes sparkled before he leaned down to brush his hair behind his ear and whisper into it: “The King is preoccupied and Matej is covering for me… would right now be a good time?”
All of a sudden, Albert was out of breath. Maybe this one did not concern the medic after all. “That could be arranged, maybe…”, he peeped, embarrassingly.
The guard moved to meet his lips in a steaming kiss that made Albert’s knees so weak they would have buckled had it not been for the strong hands holding his waist.
It took his eyes a moment to flutter open again.
“I must say I quite like you speechless, songbird”, Hanik grinned with dark, hungry eyes.
Albert was just about to retort something but his words were reduced to a yelp when he was suddenly lifted and thrown over a hard shoulder plate like he weighed nothing.
“I prefer sounds like that, however”, the guard laughed and carried him inside his room.
“Praised be Melitele!”, Albert exclaimed triumphantly as Hanik closed the door behind them.