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What's beyond the lavender wall?

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Yennefer didn’t expect to spend her morning watching her fuck buddies other fuck buddy pace in the kitchen. It’s six am and she's barely awake. Her hair is still a mess and the coffee she’s drinking is cold and she has no idea what Jaskier is even talking about. 


All she could understand from the rambling was that he needed Geralt and she definitely was not him. 


She had known Jaskier for almost ten years, and only recently on okay terms with. 


Okay terms doesn’t mean she has the brain power to handle his rambling with only shitty coffee in her system. 


She watches him as he runs hands through his hair, he has bags under his eyes that are almost as bad as the ones he had in college. Yennefer finally cuts him off before he can start up again. 


“Geralts on a business trip, remember?” She remembers the text Geralt had sent not even a week ago about it. There's not a way that Jaskier had forgotten because he had made some dramatic text that had her snorting at work. 


That seems to stop him in his tracks for the first time since he made his appearance twenty minutes ago. All the steam in his sails failing finally he slumps down resting his lower back on the counter. He runs another distressed hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. 


This would be funny for her not even six years ago, but now she just wishes Geralt was here so she didn’t need to deal with it herself. 


She checks the clock on the microwave she should be leaving here right now and locking up like she promised Geralt she would. 


She watches him a moment longer before taking a bigger sip of her coffee, crossing her ankles on the other bar stool across from her, “What did you need Geralt for?” He looks at her and he just looks tired. 


Jaskier looks away tugging at his hair where his hand is still running through it. “It’s really stupid,” Then he’s moving back towards the door. “I should just go, I forgot he wasn’t here. And now here I am acting like an idiot again in front of you.” 


He goes to walk past her, but before he can leave the kitchen she grabs his wrist, “You threw up on me the first time we met I don’t think you can beat that.” He scoffs at her trying to pull away. “Stay, I’m making coffee.” He watches her, his eyes big blue and sad and he’s ridiculous. 


He sits down after standing awkwardly in the doorway for too long, she hops down from her stool, dumping out the rest of her coffee before starting on another pot, when her back is turned. “Tell me what happened, and don’t do that rambling panic thing.” 


“Didn’t hear a word I said?” 


She hates how they know each other so well, and it’s all thanks to Geralt. Sometimes when she looks at him she still sees that fumbling eighteen year old that followed Geralt around like a lost puppy. 


He doesn’t talk the whole time she’s replacing the filter and refilling the water, she puts some of the pre ground stuff in the coffee maker that actually makes okay coffee it’s all Geralt has and it’s only here because of her, Geralt only drinks tea and Jaskier says caffeine doesn’t do anything for him. 


She almost thinks Jaskier is going to bolt out the door but finally he sighs, and starts his voice is rough, not at all the normal upbeat and teasing. “My sister is getting married and wants me to come to the wedding, but she didn’t tell me until now because it’s next week and she knew if I knew before I’d freak out and not come.” She hums, pressing the start button on the coffee maker. 


“You are prone to doing that.” She’s never witnessed the panic attacks but she’s heard tell of them enough and the backing out, the missing of important tests. 


“Yeah! But I’m also prone to wanting to know when my kid sister is getting married.” 


She turns to raise an eyebrow, “You only have one little sister.” 


He waves his hands around, then settles on pointing at her, “Still! She shouldn’t have ugh!” He hides his head in his hands, “I still would’ve liked to know beforehand,” It’s muffled speaking into his sleeves. 


She sets a cup in front of him even though he probably will drink only half and forget, she sits watching him as he takes a sip then lays his head down on the table, his arms pillowing it. 


“What’s the problem, shouldn't you be happy she’s getting married?” 


He nods his head weakly into his arms, lifting his head up a little to look at her, “I am, it’s just.” He pauses his lips pursing, “I haven’t seen my family since I was eighteen. My parents that is. And now she wants me to come and walk her down the aisle in front of my father.” He bites his lip hard enough that it looks like it’s going to bleed. 


Yennefer stares at him, her own parents are dead. And have been for years, it helped that they were also shit parents that by the time she was older she already had a better parental figure and her bio ones were long gone. She never had a family in a traditional sense. 


She only knew that Jaskier had two sisters and that’s it. In all their years of fucking the same guy and that’s it. 


She’s getting the sense that Jaskier’s life hadn’t been all sunshine and rainbows as much as he wanted you to believe it. 


She always knew it was bullshit but she played around. No man who had a happy childhood carries themselves the way that Jaskier did. 


“Why did you need Geralt?” Is the question that had been itching at the back of her mind the whole time, ever since he arrived in his panic. 


Jaskier drops his head back down into his arms groaning pathaically. “I wanted him to come with me.” He sits up properly still looking miserable. “I just thought if I didn’t go alone they would cut me some slack. Give me a break. It’s always ‘Oh! Julian! You should’ve become a lawyer’ or ‘Julian are you still doing that silly music thing?’ and I just- thought if someone else were there…” He trails off at that, taking a big gulp of coffee. 


Yennerfer watches him, and she mustn’t have slept at all, or the coffee is defaultive or something stupid because she sits there and thinks, and really thinks and decides why not because she opens her mouth and says the stupidest thing she’s ever thought of. 


“I’ll go.”