Jaskier whistled through the courtly jaunts and set to venture to his trademark. Taking on requests with skilled ease. Dancing from outside the growing crowd and twirling back to center stage.
But he wasn't the only bard set to perform that night. Bowing grandly to his roaring applause, he smiled at his runner up. Cheerfully exclaiming how wonderful the younger performer would be.
Finally able to take a seat, he happily corrected Geralt's poor table manners. Switching out his silverware to the appropriate size and tool. It wasn't long before his mother and father strode over to the pair.
"Jul-Jaskier," Margaret corrected. "That was an astonishing performance. I'm happy you've continued to improve. Oxenfurt was a costly school, but only the best for our children. Isn't that right dear?"
"The best for their skill," he grunted. "Though swordsmanship or archery would've done him some good. Imagine the danger he puts himself in with beasts on his travels."
"I assure you, little to no harm ever comes my way," Jaskier said. "Geralt's much swifter than most monsters lurking about, even without the precautions. Though, misinformation has ended poorly. There's a deals difference between a few pesky beasts and an entire trove."
"And yet you sing the praises of him. Even when he fails against factors that must come up frequently?" his father challenged. "Tell me witcher, are you truly competent enough to guard the wellbeing of my only son."
"I am," Geralt growled.
"And if he were to continue on with his pursuit of adventure, could you provide him the luxury a noble requires?"
"I provide," Geralt muttered, nearly faltering at the added bit.
"But I ask you if you can give him comfort, that beyond necessity?"
"He has given more through actions and more than what any simpleton could conjure. He affords the luxuries he would not afford himself to me. He keeps me well fed and hydrated. Warm in the frigid cold. Dry in the pouring rains. And he teaches me to do the same for myself. I am a grown man, I shouldn't rely solely on anyone for what I can do myself," Jaskier interrupted.
"Yet still he cannot say so himself."
"He is a modest man, and answered you enough," Jaskier retaliated. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you so bent on what he can give to me?"
"Sweetie, he means no offence. But we have news," his mother began.
"My time has long been coming," his father continued. "You refuse your duty as my successor in the pursuit of a life I do not support, but must allow."
"You must respect," Margaret scolded. "What he means to say is, your sisters have all married. They are happy with their spouses, however none are in any standing to succeed your father. So we've looked elsewhere. We do not wish to deny you such an opportunity, but you've made it very clear returning is not what you intend now or in the future. You understand your father's time has very well passed, many years in fact."
"You're finding my replacement, I'm happy you're respecting mine then. Still that doesn't have anything to do with Geralt?"
"No, it under most circumstances, does not," his mother agreed. "We know you will have this... man's companionship and have had such for many years. It's simply, having the knowledge of your financial affairs and wellbeing are important for us if we are to proceed."
"And?" Jaskier prodded.
"If this witcher intends to keep you bound to him, I expected some official arrangements." Hudson said.
"Such as?"
"Marriage, deary."
"Marriage," Geralt echoed, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Is that what you want?"
"What?!" Jaskier squawked. "Really, we've just made up and you want to rush into marriage! We haven't even courted, Geralt!"
"You aren't courting my son!" Huddson fumed. "He is the best you'll ever have, witcher. A noble son of a fine land and finer people. An infamous bard across the Continent. And a lover to many, surely enough to be skilled with such frivolities."
"Father!"
"Huddson!"
"You cannot continue to travel with this witcher after so long, Julian. He abused his chance of happiness with you as his, that much is clear. However yours can still be. We will do whatever it is to make the adjustment seamless. Perhaps a new muse, and proper companion, de Stael? She is most certainly a lovely and forward-thinking woman. And likely to grant you a life you can love, that you have shown to at the very least entertain with more than meer contentment. Perhaps she would permit you to continue as you are. She's a generous lady, my son. Her family and she herself are entitled to quite the fortunate. Plenty enough to keep you well til your time passes."
"No, the Lady and I have agreed not for such an arrangement. She deserves a steady and mutual partner in a spouse, not one using her. We are great friends still, but that is not to be," Jaskier denied.
"I'll court Jaskier," Geralt barely whispered.
"Truly?!" his mother boomed, bubbling with excitement. "You'll go about the proper traditions and court him at last. Oh my dearest son, you'll be so happy! I am certain of it. The matter of our people is guaranteed and your happiness proving to have mutual benefit!"
"Margaret," her husband tried.
"If you are serious about this, I'll need to ensure you go about this all well. You read, yes? I've a few books in my luggage you could review," she continued without batting an eye. "Oh I do appreciate the romance. I'm sure my dearest Jules-Jaskier will as well. How astonishing. My son finally settling down with such a bachelor. Oh, Huddson what luck we've been gifted."
"Geralt, you cannot be serious," Jaskier said.
"I would like you to stay with me, Jaskier," Geralt replied. "I'm not good with words, and I'm still going to apologize. I want you to stay by my side. But, uh... we should've talked about before coming here."
"Listen here, witcher," Huddson growled. "If you intend to court my son I expect the best, it's what he deserves. None of that foulness your kind practice. You will see to doing this right. Or so help me I'll have head."
"Father!"
"Julian, you must visit us. If you and this witcher court you'll need time to be more adequate for the occasion. No child of mine will be courted without all the fuss and love of a doting mother. Wait until your cousin hears the news. You'll return home to prepare, and get his ascent whilst he has your voucher to become Ferrant! This couldn't have worked out any more splendid, could it?"
"What cousin? Who will take my succession? Mother you know I'd love-"
"You have to if not we cannot proceed," Huddson stated.
"Yes, I suppose that's all true. But I need more time," Jaskier sighed. "Not to mention but Geralt and I need to have a very pressing conversation of what he's just said."
"Are you angry? Do you hate what I feel?"
"No, my love, but springing that during your introduction to my parents is strange. I thought even you would feel that ," Jaskier explained. "We'll talk after all this. And I need to know when my presence will be required?"
"Our return if you wish not to delay any further than we have," Huddson said. "Come with us, come home for some time. Then you and your witcher may continue as you were, if he guarantees a courtship. However you need to write to your mother more. And see us, I will not be pleased if you estrange your future husband to us. That will not be tolerated."
"So, I guess I have to meet the to be in-laws, Geralt? Seeing as you've met my parents. Though my sisters aren't present, I've yet to encounter your brothers either."
"We will speak again soon, Julian," Huddson stated. "Other affairs await us."
"Of course, see to them," Jaskier waved them off.
The pair watched as Huddson and Margaret returned to their seats. Margaret was beaming so happily, practically skipping beside her husband, arms intertwine. Huddson mumbled under his breath to her, gently smoothing down her hair. A strange yet somehow expected tenderness towards his spouse.
"See, my dear, I'm just the result of my misguided, but loving parents," Jaskier pulled Geralt's gaze from the loving pair.
"Most would assume your softness from you mother," Geralt noted. "But your father seems quite gentle but has a fury to defend? Though I see you inherited her enthusiasm."
"Yes, but would you believe my mother's the one of them better wielding a weapon?"
"Hmm," Geralt looked back, seeing the pair similar to how Jaskier and himself interacted.
Huddson was quiet at his wife's side, Margaret chatting about with anyone who'd listen. She was animated in her conversations, whilst her husband whispered into her ear, occasionally sparing glares to some who'd look at his wife.
"You know I may very well have fallen the way of my mother. The quite brooding type, never so nice to strangers even with your knowledge of them. Though if that's true, we'll have a lovely time together," Jaskier again stole back his attention.
"Do you wish to return after the job?"
"It would be simpler, however," Jaskier took pause. "Do you truly intend to court me?"
"If-"
"No, Geralt, not simply because its what I want. I mean do you reciprocate my feelings?"
"I- I don't want to lose you," Geralt admitted.
"Yes, I know, but that's not what I'm asking. I may say I believe you to but I cannot be certain if you don't tell me outright. Look what reading between the lines got us, Geralt. Imagine if something worse were to hurt us, but we were tied together, at least until my passing."
"You won't die," Geralt snapped.
"Geralt-"
"No."
"This clearly isn't going anywhere," Jaskier sighed. "I'll leave for my cousin to become Ferrant, but you will not come with me."
"Jask-"
"No, you need to genuinely consider what you feel for me and figure out how to articulate with me. There will be no more reading between the lines, no more miscommunication, or assumptions. We need to be able to speak clearly, Geralt. And you have many things to solve on your own. I'd like to help you truly, but decades Geralt, and I've nothing to show for it. Its clear to see you need to do such on your own. When you're ready come look for me, I'll be waiting."
Geralt nodded stiffly.
"I think I've had enough for tonight, would you like to go to bed?" Jaskier leaned the lute into his seat and stood.
"Sure," Geralt followed Jaskier back.
"Good night, dear."
"Good night, Jaskier," Geralt clung to him, even in their over-sized bed.