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He was starting to think his Sandpipering business was going to become a serious problem if he intended to continue travelling with Geralt. He probably should have realized a whole lot sooner that he can’t lead both of those lifes at once. But having them he felt complete, he really wasn’t able to choose only one of them.
Only a few people knew that his greatest fear was to die alone and be quickly forgotten.
At first, his ballads about the White Wolf were meant to grand him the desired poetic immortality. People humming his tunes throughout centuries, students an professors creating interpretations and analysis of his works. His name spoken with appreciation long after his ashes had blown away in the wind.
The longer he travelled with the witcher though, the more his perspective and expectations shifted. Soon, he knew that Geralt himself would be just enough. He didn’t really need a recognition across the whole Continent. People would know his name, but they wouldn’t really knew him. There wouldn’t be any real feelings behind his fame. So his great companion remembering him with fondness long after Jaskier was lost in time would be a truly proper summary of his life. They shared so much, after all.
But then the damned Dragon Hunt happened.
His heart was crushed so easily. A little, fragile, worthless thing it was. And his hopes and dreams got shattered right with it.
He tried to went back to his original plan after that. Singing in taverns, pleasing the masses. But it was empty now, a purpose of it all didn’t feel like a purpose anymore.
And then there was the massacre on the clearing under the Bleobheris oak.
Jaskier saw the human cruelty with his own eyes there. The violence fueled by pure unjustified hatred of otherness. Innocent people butchered, dismembered and left in widening pools of blood. The mocking laughter of their persecutors rang in his ears for a long time after the tragedy, chasing him on a road at days and waking him from his sleep at nights.
It was enough for him to decide he no longer wanted to be a human. He did not want to be associated with such evil.
Being like them became his second greatest fear.
It didn’t took him long to connect his two biggest fears and to find one solution for both of them.
At first he didn't expect to do anything significant, he only hoped he’d manage to get a few Elves to safety before he gets himself killed. He was a man without a family, friends or a real purpose back when he came up with that idea. It was meant to be his way of atonementing for sharing genes with true monsters, but also a way out of his uselessness. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the fallout with Geralt probably wasn't meaningless to his actions. In defiance of destiny, he wanted to make his grand finale memorable, at least to a small number of people. A handful of Elves mentioning in their tales that they were saved by a humble bard, who died a heroic death leading them away from danger, would be a good enough ending to his story.
It turned out that his first shipment wasn’t his last.
He remembered those few first Elves. A mother with three small children and a barely adult sibings, who already lost their parents in one of massacres. Jaskier found them wandering near the ruins of their village. It was them who suggested Cintra was a safe destination. He vowed he would take them there, though he had no idea how to do it.
It quickly turned out that he wasn’t the only human who didn’t like what was happening.
Soon, he had a whole underground network working all over the Continent, including rich patrons willing to spend their coins for bribes and ransoms. The Sandpiper’s name was whispered in alleys and sewers, orchestrating shipments, saving not a few, but hundreds of Elves. The tale began to live.
He was doing such a good job as the Sandpiper.
And then Yennefer appeard, which ended up with him being locked up in prison for the most of unbelievable reasons. Obviously, Geralt tailed right behind her. And less obviously, he required Jaskier’s presence.
And Jaskier’s foolish weak heart couldn’t refuse. It couldn’t refuse back in the prison cell and it couldn’t refuse when the witcher suggested they should all stick and travel together after the whole Deathless Mother tragedy. But he also couldn’t simply abandon his Sandpiper coworkers. So, he was disappearing for a few hours here and there to make a quick contact under Yennefer’s meaningful gaze and to Geralt’s absolute unawareness and annoyance.
Jaskier knew he couldn’t hide it from the witcher forever, but hoped he would get a chance to confess to him under better circumstances. Because you see, Jaskier knew he was completely screwed now. He actually was mentally preparing himself for a sequel of Geralt’s memorable mountain performance.
Yennefer took Ciri for some magic studies, so it was meant to be only him and Geralt for a few weeks. Geralt decided to use the opportunity to take more contracts to secure their finances and Jaskier followed him without questioning like he always did.
Until he heard a rumor that some of his associates were seen in the village he and Geralt happened to occupy at the moment due to some kikimora business. So Jaskier casually told Geralt he was going to the market for some absolutely indispensable bath oils, actually planning on finding them and exchanging information. The witcher only rolled his eyes and ordered him to return before the sunset.
That was six sunsets ago.
If Jaskier kept tracks correctly. Admitably, there was a possibility that he could have lost some time after taking a hit to his temple and losing consciousness.
In his defence, he couldn’t really predict that his associates would make themselves famous with the Temerian army, could he? His coworkers knew better than to bring attention on themselves like that!
He angrily kicked a stone he stumbled on on his way.
"How long until we make it to the village?”, he asked.
"Hard to say, maybe a few hours”, shrugged the Elven rebel, who was accompanying him at the moment.
Jaskier really shouldn’t be annoyed at the man. He really shouldn’t be annoyed at any of the Scoia’taels. If it wasn’t for them, he’d be probably lying dead in some ditch right now. They did give the Temerians a bloodbath, the one Jaskier will surely never forget, but they did it to get Jaskier out alive. They were his allies. To the point they insisted on accompanying him back to the village, making sure he makes it there in one piece.
The truth was, Jaskier was angry at himself. His foolish escapade led to another senseless death spectacle. He was cut off of his chain of news for so long that he ignored his own order and went to make a contact with people who weren’t included in his inner circle. And one of them probably sent a Temerian squad after him and the rest. It was the basic underground rule to keep in touch only with a handful of people, who collect information from another handful of people and so on. Working like that minimized a risk of a stragner breaking into the network and of the whole network being compromised if one of members was caught. Now he not only lost the whole network’s branch, but also probably was going back to that village in vain anyway. Geralt most likely decided to leave him to his own devices once again and moved on to meet Yennefer and Ciri alone.
He could actually hear his cold threatening voice.
"Move away from the bard, and maybe I won't kill her”.
Wait a moment. Those were not the words he expected.
Jaskier’s head snapped upwards to look in the direction the voice was comming from. Sure enough, at the crossroads in front of them stood Geralt in all of his glory. He was shielding himself with one of the Elven warriors, holding his sword to her neck. His face was lacking any emotion, but Jaskier could see the fury burning behind his yellow eyes. The bard wondered whether that fury was directed at him. If so, maybe it would be better if he just stayed with Scoia’tael.
The girl, whom Jaskier knew as Young Rhian, stood still in the witcher’s hold, occasionally hissing at him aggressively. Every of her hisses was followed by a law thretening rumble coming out of the back of the witcher’s throat.
How and when the hell did Geralt kidnap her?
The witcher’s actions clearly didn’t have the effects he expected. Geralt’s attention was focused on Jaskier now, a slight wrinkle on his forehead was the only sign giving away his confusion. The bard needed a few seconds to understand what had put the witcher off of his tracks.
Jaskier, even though clearly exhausted and covered in mud and blood, was walking freely between rebellious and armed to their teeth Elves. No cuffs, no ropes, no kicks and punches showing him the way. Moreover, instead of reacting by putting a knife to the bard’s throat, the Elves kind of created protective ring from their bodies around him.
Right. No one besides him deserved to be harmed here, so better just get to it.
"Ah, Geralt! Here you are!”, he greeted him with falsely cheerful voice. "Excuse me, Aed”, he patted one of the rebels on the shoulder and pushed his way between Elves to get to the front of the whole gathering. Aed let him go, but followed right behind with his sword raised and ready to be used. "No need for violence here, Geralt”, he assured him. "See? Everyone here has peaceful intentions, right?”, he turned around to look at the Elves. Their faces showed readiness for a battle. "Shit”, he breathe out. In nervous two steps he rushed over to Aed and grabbed his wrist in order to force him to lower down his weapon. Aed didn’t even spare him a glance, boring his eyes into the witcher. On the other hand, Geralt hissed seeing Jaskier within the range of the rebel’s sword.
"Get back, Jaskier!”, he growled. "The fuck’s going on with you, bard?!”.
"You won’t be speaking to him like that”, warned Aed. "He is with us and we are escorting him to where he pleases”.
"Here pleases me just fine, my dears!”, Jaskier interjected, seeing the faint hope of avoiding a skirmish. "Thank you, Aed. For, you know, the rescue and the escort, but you needn’t trouble yourself any further. I’ll do fine on my own from now on”, he bowed to the Elves with esteem. "And you, Geralt, just let Rhian go, please”, he sent the witcher a pleading look.
"We were meant to take you back to the village”, argued Aed.
"Yes, so I could check if my travel companion is still there”, Jaskier agreed. "This is said travel companion”, he pointed to Geralt. "Since he is here, no need for me to go to the village anymore”. Seeing a doubtful look on the Aed’s face, he continued, "You surely know I used to travel with the witcher”.
"We just want to make sure you are safe”, explained Aed. "You are too important to our kind. And he doesn’t seem to have good feelings towards you”.
Jaskier glanced at Geralt. The witcher indeed looked not only lost, but also at the edge of being truly pissed.
"Well, thank you for kind words, Aed”, the bard bowed once again. "If it comes to Geralt, I assure you, it’s his normal facial expression. He means me no physical harm. He just doesn't understand the situation. In worst case scenario he’ll do some very loud and rude yelling at me”.
Geralt sent him some very impressive murderous glare at that.
Jaskier really had enough of that ridiculous impasse about his person. He huffed annoyed and swiftly passed Aed by, rushing towards Geralt. The Elf tried to follow, but he stopped him with his own very murderous glare. "You stay right there!”, he ordered and continued his way to the witcher. Once he reached him, he grabbed his hand, which was wielding sword currently threatening Rhian’s throat. He knew trying to force it away was in vain. He didn’t stand a chance against the witcher’s strength. "Let her go, Geralt”, he pleaded. The witcher locked his gaze with him. "Let her go”, he repeated.
They kept eye contact for a moment longer. Jaskier tried to make him understand that he didn't need the hostage and that everything would be fine if he just lets the girl go. Finally, Geralt growled and removed the sword, pushing Rhian away from him. The girl immediately run towards her people, who instantly shielded her from the danger. At the same time, Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s forearm with an admirable strength and almost sent him flying, while trying to put him behind himself. Jaskier felt a ridiculous warm spreading through him at that sign of a ruthless care.
"So now that everything is settled, we can part in peace, right?”, he spoke from behind the witcher's back.
"As you wish, Sandpiper”, Aed nodded his head. "If you claim you want to stay with the witcher, we won’t oppose you. But if you ever find yourself in trouble again, you can count on us”, he stated and without waiting for any reply, he gave his companions a sign of retreat.
He had to give it to Geralt that his patience was getting better. The witcher waited until Scoia’tael disappeared behind the tree line before he lashed out at him. Those were at least two whole minutes of silence.
"What the fuck was that!”, he turned around and hissed right in Jaskier’s face.
"A Scoia’tael squad, I believe”, he knew it wasn’t a smart nor expected answer, but Jaskier just couldn’t help himself. A force of habit from old times to play with Geralt like that. Now he wished he could have kicked himself before speaking up. This kind of behavior was only going to focus more of Geralt’s fury on him.
Unexpectedly, Geralt only closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"The fuck were you doing with them?”, he asked in a much calmer tone, though still with a threatening vibe to it. "You’ve been gone for a week, Jaskier”, he added.
So, he did lost some time in his counting.
The witcher opened his month, probably to begin his tirade, but closed it right back when he heard a weak and hoarse "I can explain” coming from the bard. The bard who was currently blinking rapidly to fight tears building up in his eyes. Jaskier knew he presented a rather sorry state. The shift in Geralt’s expression only confirmed his suspicion.
"Are you all right?”, the witcher asked in a surprisingly gentle tone. He reached his hand to examine a bloody and dirty wound at his temple. "We should clean this up. Are you dizzy? Any nausea?”, the bard could only shake his head a little. "That’s good. Any more injuries I should know about?”, he asked.
"I’m fine, Geralt”, he whispered quietly.
"Fuck”, the witcher let out a breath and pulled Jaskier into a hug. The gesture was all the bard needed to cling desperately to Geralt, burrying his face into the crock of his neck. In responce the witcher wrapped his arms around him tighter. "Fuck, Jaskier. I was so fucking worried when you didn’t come back from the market”.
Jaskier’s heart clinched at that. He was lying to himself thinking he could have both lifes. Above all, he was lying to Geralt.
"I wasn’t at the market”, he admitted quietly.
"Figured as much”, the witcher huffed. "Come on. Roach’s near with supplices. I’ll deal with your head wound first and then you are going to tell me what kind of shit you put yourself in this time, bard”.
"You’ll hate me”, Jaskier warned.
"Sadly, not an option, bard”, leaving his one arm still wrapped around him, Geralt started to slowly lead him in the opposite direction to where Scoia’tael disappeard.
Once they reached a small clearing, Geralt sat him down on a log and started his search through the bags. Normally, Jaskier would jump in to spoil Roach, but now he suddenly felt out of place. He curled in on himself, waiting for his sentence.
Geralt returned to his side with a small bottle of water, a roll of fresh bandages and a tube of some oinment. The witcher raised his brow seeing Jaskier’s surprised expression.
"I suspected if I find you, you’d be in need of those”, Geralt smirked at him. The smirk quickly faded away though, when Jaskier didn’t respond with a usual snarky remark, instead completely avoiding the witchers eyes.
Geralt moistened a piece of bandage and reached for Jaskier’s chin, lifting it to get a better look at the wound. Then he started to gently clean it of dried blood and soil. It stung, but Jaskier kept quiet, only tensing his muscles.The witcher worked in silence until he got rid of the biggest parts of the mess on his temple.
"So, who is Sandpiper?”, he asked suddenly.
Jaskier swallowed loudly.
"Me”, he answered.
Geralt stopped poking at his wound for a moment and sent him a look of disapproval.
"I know it’s you”, he rolled his eyes. "That Elf called you that plainly enough. You know what I meant”.
The bard looked away.
"You should express yourself more clearly, Geralt”, Jaskier tried to delay the inevitable.
"I have you for that”, the witcher just shrugged.
In any other situation he would use that answer to point out to Geralt that he does need him for something. This situation was a completely different one, though.
"You can say the Sandpiper is a character of the Elven folk story, which is spreading all around the Continent. He brings Elves to safety. So, when an Elf needs help, they look for the Sandpiper or his people”, Jaskier explained.
"Did you created that story?”, Geralt tilted his head at him.
The question caught the bard off guard. He never looked at it like that. Well, he didn’t create words for the story, but he did create the character, so technically Geralt was right.
"Yes”, Jaskier answered hesitantly.
Something in the bard’s tone made the witcher’s head snap up to look at him suspiciously.
"Is it only a folk story?”.
The bard took a deep breath and moved away from Geralt’s gentle touch.
"No, Geralt”, he sighed resignedly. „There is a truth to every folk town story”.
The witcher was silent for a moment, clearly contemplating on something.
"So, Scoia’tael were willing to helped you... with something, because you are saving their people”, he summarized.
"You could say so”, Jaskier bit down on his lip. "I didn’t ask for their help, though. I... heard people associated with my network were in that village we stayed at. Usually I don’t make a contact with people I don’t have carefully checked... but we were in a wilderness for a while and I sort of wanted to know if everything was still running smoothly”, he sighed. "So I foolishly went to them. Turned out they apparently had Temerian forces following them. They caught me, roughed me up a bit. Before I got killed it turned out Scoia’tael forces were following Temerian forces. A messy bloody battle it was. Hit my head. Was rescued by Aed and his guys. They insisted on walking me back to the village. You know the rest”.
"So I should be thanking them”, the witcher grimaced.
"Geralt, I’m truly sorry”, Jaskier said weakly. "I never wanted to be a burden on your way or a danger to you or gods forbid, to Ciri”.
"Ciri can take care of herself just fine. Me, too. It’s not us who are clearly in danger because of it”, he pointed out, frustrated. "Why didn’t you tell me?”.
"You'd tell me to end it. Or would send me away”, there were tears in his eyes again. "I though about it and I... I can’t choose between being the Sandpiper and being with you. Losing one would be losing a part of myself”, tears flew down on his cheeks openly now. "But if you order me to do so, I... I’ll appoint the new Sandpiper. Just don’t leave me”, he begged.
"Jaskier, you idiot”, Geralt found his hand and squeezed it gently, drawing his attention back to him. "You are probably right. I would reprimand you for your thoughtlessness and demanded you to immidiately quit it, because my first instinct would be to keep you away from danger. With a lot of yelling, I’m sure”, he smirked at him, hinting at the bard’s own words from the conversation with Scoia’tael. "But you are a damn stubborn bard. You’d point out it’s a noble cause, one that's more important than you. After a while I’d agreed with the first part, called second a bullshit. We both know how it’d go from there”.
Jaskier frowned.
"How?”, he asked.
"With the Sandpiper acquiring a personal bodyguard”, Geralt patted him on his thigh, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The bard blinked at him.
"You have to promise me that from now on you won’t go doing a Sandpiper job without informing me first, alright?”, the witcher voice sounded alarmingly serious. "I’m sure we can work it out, walking the Path and keeping an eye on your... network. I mean, you’ve been apparently doing a fine job out of hiding it from me for months, so it shouldn’t be impossible”, he murmured unhappily.
Jaskier sat completely still, processing everything he just heard. It took long enough that Geralt’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. But then the bard suddenly surged forward with an admirable speed. He closed the surprised witcher in an astonishingly strong hug.
"Thank you”, Jaskier mumbled into his armor.
"Hmm”, replied the abashed witcher. Acting on an impulse, he lightly kissed the top of his head. "You should be aware Yennefer will be pissed about the dely, though”, he warned.
The bard tensed in his arms.
"And I should probably mention she knows about the Sandpiper thing”, Jaskier admitted.
"Since when?”, growled the witcher.
The bard disengaged himself from the embrace and looked at him apologetically.
"I kind of smuggled her”, he grimaced. "In Oxenfurt. Where we met. Before the whole Deathless Mother drama”.
Geralt only rubbed his face in resignation.
"My life was so much easier when it was only me and Roach”, he sighed.
Jaskier’s face lit up with a bright smile at that.
"But it was boring”, he commented. "Admit it, Geralt! It was boring!”.
"Shut up, bard and give me that head of yours”, the witcher deflected. "I’m not done with that wound”.
"Will you kiss it better?”, Jaskier asked with a smug expression on his face.
"I preferred you when you were wallowing in guilt”, stated Geralt. To emphasize his point, he pressed the gauze pad a little tighter against the damaged skin on the bard’s forehead.
Jaskier hissed and sent him a hurt look.
The witcher sighed heavily, leaned over and put a quick kiss on the bard’s temple, careful to actually avoid the wounded area.
Jaskier beamed at him happily.
Geralt rolled his eyes in a feigned annoyance, but couldn’t really hide the found expression from his face.
"Turn your head to the left. I need to apply the salve”, the witcher ordered.
The bard complied still smiling.
All folk stories had a grain of truth within them. Like the Sandpiper one. But the ones about witchers were clearly the exception that proved the rule. No one will ever convince Jaskier that Geralt has no feelings, including Geralt himself. Not when Geralt looked at him like that.
Jaskier will need to correct that outrageous corruption in those tales.
He knew he will prevail.
After all, he was the greatest bard on this Continent. And the witcher’s companion who obviously won’t ever be forgotten by him. Also, a rescuer of Elves, but in this particular mission - that’s just a fact to complete his image.