Fringilla Appreciation Hours

The first time Jaskier says it, the words come tumbling out of his mouth in a rush, caught between sentences and barely noticeable. It's been more years than Jaskier would care to admit since he saw the Wolf Witcher. It seems as if Geralt is still want to avoid him outside of their necessary interactions. Jaskier can never fully stop the twinge of hurt every time Geralt rejects Jaskier's offer to stay a little longer, to travel the path alongside him - wouldn't it be grand to truly have a companion?

So when Jaskier hears of a Witcher near Rinde with white hair, well it isn't too far out of his way to head to the town, leaving his supplies at an inn and heading to the river where the rumors led him. When he finally sees Geralt his heart jumps a bit in his chest and words begin to leave his mouth before he can even fully process what he is saying.

"Geralt! Hello. What's it been, months? Years? What is time, anyway?"

No response follows his statement so Jaskier pushes forward, "I heard you were in town. Are you following me, you scamp? I mean, I'm flattered and everything, but you should really think about getting a hobby one of these days."

Then, finally, a noise of displeasure from Geralt and they fall into their routine of Jaskier making witty statement as Geralt pretends not to listen.

It all goes to hell in a handbasket when the djinn is released. Jaskier forgets all about his singular statement on time and is instead focused on the much more present problems in front of him. There was one benefit to his near-death experience. After the fact, Geralt, whether out of guilt or a desire to watch over the danger-prone bard, agreed to let Jaskier travel the path with him.

Instead of random meetings and separate inns, Jaskier began to travel alongside Geralt. They would camp in the woods in-between towns and stay in the same room at whatever inn they chose for the night. It gave Jaskier a sense of pride to finally be considered Geralt's travel companion.

By this point, he had already known Geralt for nearly ten years and he was no longer a wide-eyed youth of 18 but at 28 he was still a young man, full of excitement and dreams of grandeur. The way Jaskier saw it, 28 was a fine time to pick the final trajectory of his life, he couldn't imagine any other path for himself than right by Geralt's own.

And with the shift in their traveling methods came a shift in their relationship. On Jaskier's end, he could never tell what the final straw was. One too many nights moving closer next to a fire or one too many rooms with just one bed or maybe even one too many times that Geralt would move his hand as if reaching out to Jaskier only to take it away again. Whatever the reason, one day Geralt captured Jaskier's lips in a kiss and their companionship became something even more meaningful.

Now, after nearly twenty years together, Jaskier sits at Kaer Morhen and look at Geralt, still the same as the day they met. Meanwhile, Jaskier has a twinge in his right knee that flares up whenever he walks up a set of stairs and a back that cracks like a fire whenever he gets out of bed in the morning. Every year there's new lines on his face and more hair on his bedsheets. He wonders how much longer he can follow Geralt on the path.

He's getting slower.

When he was young, he brushed off his inability to keep up with Geralt on his inexperience. However, after years of following the Witcher, he had found that he didn't tire even after walking for miles a day and he adjusted to the lifestyle. Now, as he grew older, he couldn't keep up because he grew tired faster and a bruise would last for weeks instead of days.

He couldn't confide in Geralt. He was sure the Witcher would offer to retire but Jaskier couldn't stand the thought. Geralt, sitting my his bedside as he slowly grew older and less able to follow on any sorts of adventures. Geralt, a hero who he would chain to his bedside with his own feelings of ineptitude.

Jaskier ran his fingers over the rings on his left hand, noticing the callouses that had formed over the years.

His musing were interrupted by Vesemir taking a seat next to Jaskier, "Lost in thought?" the older witcher says, not for many words.

"Have any of you ever had humans partners?" Jaskier asks.

Vesemir is silent for a moment before answering, "Some of us."

"And -- what happens, what happens as they grow older, as they are able to be by your side less?"

"You forget boy, that while our bodies might not age, our minds certainly do. The older humans get, the closer they get to matching our life experience. For a Witcher, a aged partner is a more relatable partner. Once --- well I've been in love many times but there was a woman, I knew her as children and by the time we met again she had grandchildren. I loved her the same when we were young as well she had the years on her face."

Jaskier lets out a small chuckle, "I suppose it makes sense, that Witchers would see time and age differently than the rest of us."

For some inexplicable reason, he feels his throat getting choked up thinking about leaving Geralt behind eventually, no matter how natural the process. He struggles to continue talking but says in a weak voice, "What is time, anyways?"

Then Vesemir stands up, clasping Jaskier on his shoulder as he begins to walk away and saying, "Everything."

Then Jaskier is left in front of the fire watching it slowly burn down and he doesn't move until he feels the arms of Geralt wrap around his from behind and he turns to capture a kiss from the man.

"Are you ready to come to bed?" Geralt asks, apropos of nothing.

Jaskier sighs and gets up, "It is getting late and I believe you said we have an early morning?"

Geralt shrugged, "It's nothing urgent, you could sleep into the late morning if you'd like."

"But there's so much to work on."

"Don't worry we have time."

Jaskier's face falls at Geralt's words and he turns his gaze down, looking away, "Time."