#jaskier is part elf

[thedemonofcat]

As I watched another episode of The Hexer, a scene filled with tension and high stakes caught my attention. Geralt and Jaskier, facing a group of elves about to end their lives, find themselves in a desperate situation. Geralt's attempt to negotiate their release with a powerful line is a moment that lingers.

"Save at least him. He is innocent. He's closer to you than you think."

The episode moves on, and they don't give much attention to it, but I do. I wanna know what the line 'He's closer to you than you think.' means. Since, in the version of the story, well, it's made clear that Jaskier sympathizes with the elves, as far as I can tell, him helping them via being The Sandpiper is not a thing in this version.

Is that line supposed to imply that Jaskier is a part elf in the Hexer?

Or is Jaskier meant to be something else that's non-human

[bardcore-jaskier]

♡My immortal Jaskier headcanons♡

So here are my headcanons, because I refuse to believe that our ball of sunshine has an expiration date...

So, I know Lauren said that Jaskier not aging in the show was just a filming mistake, something they simply forgot to do and on a completely logical level I am fully aware that in canon Jaskier is completely human, 100%. And I also know that they're not gonna change it, no matter how much some of us may wish they did (Although why not? They already strayed so far from the books and made so many changes, might as well go the extra mile)

Realistic-ish headcanons:

- Jaskier is part elf, perhaps quarter elf like Yennefer, it is an entirely justifiable headcanon, theoretically, Jaskier's human father could have married a half elf commoner woman (who may or may not have had the pointy tips on her ears cut off with a knife to avoid human prejudice)

- Jaskier has a fae ancestor, somewhere many many generations back in his ancestry, so his entire family is suspiciously long lived but nobody cares because Lettenhove isn't politically important and therefore doesn't catch the attention of the prejudiced Nobles farther up the royal court chain.

- Jaskier unintentionally drinks the same elixir mages/sorcerers drink to prolong their life. I read that chaos wielders don't have naturally long lifespans, they semi-regularly drink an elixir with mandrake roots in it to slow the aging process. According to Witcher Wiki, you can only buy mandrake root in Lindenvale and my headcanon is that Jaskier experiments with many different tea blends to see which one is more effective for soothing his throat after singing. So at the age of 29-30, he wanders into Lindenvale and buys some dried mandrake to make a tea, after one sip he felt more rejuvenated than ever and since that day, mandrake root tea has become his number one go-to, he drinks it as often as he can.

More fanfic centric, less canon possible headcanons:

- Jaskier is a Dryad. (Yayyy trans Jaskier headcanon) Since Lettenhove is so tiny, it isn't even on the Witcher continent map, but a simple Google search says that it is Located somewhere in Kerack. Kerack borders with Brokilon, so it's kind of a nifty little loophole for fanfic writers to use and place Lettenhove somewhere near the forests where Dryads live.

And while most Dryads treat any man that enters their realm as a mere sperm donor, Witcher Wiki does also mention that some Dryads can form emotional relationships and fall in love with humans and/or elves, but in the end, all Dryad born offspring is AFAB. So imagine this, Jaskier's father falls in love with a Dryad, she falls in love with him, they have Jaskier, Jaskier notices early on that he feels like a boy and his rich Viscount father hires a mage to help Jaskier transition early.

- Jaskier is a higher vampire, higher vampires are a HIGHLY secretive society, even in canon, part of the reason why even Witchers have so little information about them is because they prefer to hide in plain sight and are ridiculously good at it. Jaskier doesn't age, has no self-preservation instincts, doesn't buy a horse and yet still keeps up with Geralt on foot for 20 years. Jaskier's personality isn't fake, he doesn't act like someone else, it's all him, but his clumsiness is a little bit of an act, he also purposefully avoids physical fights, it comes across as fear of getting hurt but in reality it's because he's afraid of appearing too strong and exposing himself. Lettenhove doesn't appear on maps, because it doesn't exist legally, it's just a castle hidden in the woods, a safe place for higher vampires, kinda like Kaer Morhen is for Witchers, Jaskier's parents just happen to be the ones who run it.

[femmefaggot]

i would also kill someone 2 find my geralt btw. god bless.

[alons-ycreeper]

Look I don't write for this pairing I pure read fanfic of it and that's it but this one idea keeps festering in my head so here:

Post-mountain, already at Kaer Morhen but like no Deathless Mother shenanigans. Geralt gets shit faced with his brothers as per the winter usual only this time with the added bonus of all his angst physically following him home. Especially the Jaskier-angst. The bard hasn't spoken much to Geralt instead spending all his time with Yennefer in the lab, continuing Ciri's noble education, or helping Vesemir finally organize the library. Basically Jaskier makes zero time for Geralt except for meal times which always have the bard either sitting with Yenn, Ciri, or Vesemir but never near Geralt.

So when Geralt goes to drink with Lambert, Eskel (both game-canon) and Coën he finds out that Jaskier has been slowly approaching his brothers little by little trying to befriend them. It drives the angst and jealousy through the roof and it's not even midnight before Geralt is flat on his ass murmuring "Toss A Coin" in the softest, saddest tone ever particularly on the "your witcher" part. The boys tell their brother to get some rest and the big sad wolf trudges up the step until he stops in front of Jaskier's room. He can hear the bard sleeping, he just wants to check on him so Geralt opens the door and lets himself in.

The bard is a pretty as ever. Quarter-elf blood goes a long way to keep it like that. Then Geralt notices the quill on the desk still dripping with ink. Jaskier is dead asleep.

Quill. Jaskier. Quill. Jaskier. Geralt has an idea.

Jumping out of bed the next morning, Jaskier rushes down to get whatever breakfast is left over. He doesn't notice the others gawking at first too busy feeding himself and telling Ciri that the lessons with him will be combined with Yennefer's today as they'll be discussing court mages. It isn't until he's done that he notices them. Eskel, Lambert and Coën have this horrified-amused look, Vesemir looks very tired, Ciri is blushing so hard her face is as red as tomato and Yenn is glaring daggers at Geralt who seems to be very pleased with himself.

"Something on my face?" Jaskier asks.

"Go look in a mirror, bard." Yenn says not turning away from Geralt who she keeps murdering with her eyes.

So he does. Jaskier goes to the closest mirror and gasps at what he finds.

There written on his left cheek "Property of Geralt of Rivia". Kaer Morhen is about to be down a witcher.

[inexplicifics]

Oh man so many WIPs to choose from! Feel free to choose the next closest number in any of these or to skip if they've already been shared!

G/J #13

G2/S post tournament

L/A/M #13 (yes 13 is my favorite number 😂)

L/A/V/M Dealer's choice

Vexart tournament (the angst of the tournament is just... so compelling)

Worth the Wyvern barmaid (this was the first fic of yours I read and I still regularly go back to reread it and am STILL wholly delighted by it)

Cats Among Wolves #2

Tbh your WIP list looks a lot like mine, except all of my WIPs are spread across different fandoms but I have.... so many 🙈

Have some Geralt/Jaskier with part-elf Jaskier and angst and hurt/comfort!

Jaskier had not realized that his life could actually get worse than it already has. First he ends up in the back end of nowhere because he thought it was a shortcut and it most certainly wasn’t, then these vicious yokels decide that his ears are excuse enough to ambush him, beat him bloody, and collar him like a slave, then they gag him when he won’t stop talking or fighting, and worst of all they smashed his lute - all of that is miserable enough, and he is nearer despair with every day that passes without some form of rescue. But this - He is lying at the feet of a white-haired man who, given the way Jaskier’s luck has been going since he left Oxenfurt, can only be the most notorious Wolf witcher on the Continent: the Butcher of Blaviken, in the flesh. The monster who slaughtered half a town for no reason at all. And Jaskier has just been turned over to him as - As a toy, Jaskier thinks bleakly. As a disposable body, flimsy and replaceable as a broadsheet, to be used up and discarded and left in a ditch beside the road. The Butcher bends and picks Jaskier up, heaving him over one broad shoulder without any apparent effort, and whistles; Jaskier, his head hanging down, can see nothing but the witcher’s dark armor. It’s not actually all one shade, he discovers; it has been stained so often that the stains overlap, mottled blacks and browns making the leather as ominous as its wearer. He smells of blood and horse and onion.

And as long as we're doing #13s - have some Lambert/Aiden/Milena with minor goddess Milena:

Lambert makes a horrible wheezing sound, and his eyelids flutter briefly before falling shut again. Aiden finds a second wind somehow - or fourth, or fifth, gods, he doesn’t even know how long it’s been - and staggers forward a little faster, his own broken ribs grating as he cradles his Wolf close. There’s a light ahead. Aiden stumbles across a grassy clearing, up a set of slick stone steps, and into a tiny, candle-lit temple. “Please,” he rasps, as loud as he can. “Please, someone help!” There’s the rustle of fabric and the sudden smell of roses, and a young woman appears out of the shadows off to one side. “Oh!” she says. “Oh dear - put him down there, let me see what I can do.” Aiden places Lambert down on the altar with the last of his strength and collapses beside it. “Please,” he begs. “Don’t let him die.”

I wish you the best of luck with your own WIP list!

[cha-mij]

One of the many reasons Joey Batey was perfect for Jaskier, but only if Netflix had left their character alone. (That being said I do think him being bi is definitely within character, just not with bloody Radovid).

Witcher series one: "we have this bard. He's known as the finest in his generation. Is a friend to elves, a speaker of Elder speech, and is a lecturer of the arts at the prestigious Oxenfurt University. We wrote this song that we think perfectly encapsulates him. It has the line "He thrust every elf far back on the shelf". Let's get Joey Batey to sing it.

Joey Batey in real life: one of the best lyrical writers of at least his generation. Creates works that if removed from their music would be right up there with the poets of the romantic era. Writes a 9 minute epic about fatigue that would be perfectly happy in any fantasy genre. Is part of an astounding group of musicians including Madeleine Hyland who is a modern day trobairitz.

[fangirleaconmigo]

for 'I can't believe it's canon', what about Jaskier/Dandelion's youthful looks? I know it's common fanon to make him at least part elf or fae or some other type of creature to explain the longevity, but i think in canon he's just like that? Babyfaced?

Hello dear! Ok, so,

Dandelion's looks and longevity/(and potential elven lineage) in the books, now with English and original Polish versions.

Alright, in order to answer this ask, I conferred with the wonderful and helpful @cherrypoison1889, who is Polish and has the books and is willing to indulge my obsessive absurdity.

(In my post about Geralt and Religion, I put out a request for any Polish fan of the books who wouldn't mind me bothering them with silly and ridiculous questions occasionally to get in touch. Cherry was kind enough to dm me.)

Basically, my meta has powered up. XD I now have a partner in crime. I am going to include our conversations about the words used in the original Polish and in the English translation to describe Dandelion.

We are just having very silly fun here, this isn't academic or anything pls my god, if you want academic or authoritative consult a doctor (phd in languages and whatnot). This is just fun, that's all.

Ok, so we know Dandelion looks young for his age.

In The Blood of Elves, which takes place AFTER the first two short story collections, Djikstra says that Dandelion looks like he is in his late twenties, even though he is in his late thirties. Here is what he says.

"...I know you're almost forty, look almost thirty, think you're just over twenty, and act as though you're barely ten."

So he looks a good ten years younger than he is and This is in Blood of Elves, which for TWN fans is around S2.

We also know he is a 'pretty boy'.

Dandelion is called pretty, by the narrative and other characters.

When Angoulême is being interrogated in The Tower of Swallows, and she is asked who Geralt is traveling with, she describes Dandelion like this....

"...a comely fellow called Dandelion, who's a troubadour, and carries a lute."

So she uses the term comely, which in English is typically usually used to describe women. I think that's the first time I've heard that word used to describe an adult man. Here's how Oxford dictionary defines it:

Comely: pleasant to look at; attractive (typically used of a woman).

So to me, this implies a pretty boy and yes the baby face.

I asked Cherry about what the Polish word is, and here is their answer:

Angouleme calls Jaskier "Przystojniak" in Polish, which is colloquial of Handsome Fellow (see also the word Przystojny, which means Handsome). This word is generally used only to describe men, but has been, in the past, also applied to women

So, there is some subtle gender-y stuff going on in that translation, but either way, he is considered good looking.

Then I asked Cherry about whether Dandelion is really often mistaken for an elf. There is a passage in the English translation that suggests that he is, but the wording in English is a bit ambiguous and slightly awkward.

In the process, Cherry and I found that there is a word in that section that changes pretty significantly in translation, suggesting again that he is very pretty.

Dandelion and longevity or elven lineage:

As far as his longevity, there is never at indication that he is part elf except that sometimes he is mistaken for an elf. The English translation implies that this is because of his style, but the original Polish implies it is his pretty face as well.

In Baptism of Fire, Geralt and Dandelion are in a forest, caught in a thunderstorm. They happen near a group of men who are waiting to meet elves and the men call to them:

"Over here, Master Elves!"

Geralt is not surprised by this mistake, as visibility is low, and they are both wrapped in grey elven mantels. Also, apparently, this is a regular occurrence for Dandelion. The book says:

"As far as the foppish Dandelion was concerned, he was regularly mistaken for an elf or a half-elf, particularly since he had begun wearing his hair shoulder-length and taken up the habit of occasionally curling it with tongs."

Ok, so, the English translation uses the phrase 'as far as...Dandelion was concerned', which could mean two different things. It could mean "regarding Dandelion," or "according to Dandelion." So I asked Cherry what it says in Polish.

fangirleaconmigo

So that phrase in english could basically say that dandelion WAS regularly mistaken for an elf

OR OR OR

it could mean that he CLAIMS he is regularly mistaken for an elf

cherrypoison1889

So, in Polish it is that Dandelion is often mistaken for an elf or half-elf.

fangirleaconmigo

ok, so it isn't that he claims it, but that he IS mistaken for an elf.

ok perfect. thank you.

cherrypoison1889

As in, it's other's opinion that he looks like an elf

Then, Cherry asked me about the word foppish, and we realized that the original word in Polish has quite different connotations!

Foppish, in English, generally refers to a man who is "concerned with one's clothes and appearance in an affected and excessive way." (Oxford dictionary)

So, an English speaker sees this word as a commentary on Dandelion's vanity and clothing. But actually the Polish word is different. Here is what Cherry said:

cherrypoison1889

In Polish it's "Gładysz", which means someone with a smooth, unblemished visage (see also the word Gładki, which means smooth)

fangirleaconmigo

the word they translated to foppish?

cherrypoison1889

Yep, that's the word. So, 1 count for Dandy being called a pretty pretty boy <3

fangirleaconmigo

haha that's awesome thank you

cherrypoison1889

So in english, you could say he's described slightly more pejoratively?

fangirleaconmigo

foppish it's less about his attractiveness and more about his own vanity or obsession with appearance.

just stylish and vain basically

you could see that negatively, as interest in appearance is often looked down upon in men, (eta: unfairly of course, in macho cultures, not by me obviously) but not everyone does see it as negative. but yes, it has more potential for negative implications

cherrypoison1889

Just looked it up in a dictionary, apparently Gładysz also means someone who is nice, i.e. kind

So in Polish it's just he's a sweet pretty boy uwu

fangirleaconmigo

ah interesting! so the original word has better implications all around

that's so cute

cherrypoison1889

Baby boy baby

So, there is no conclusive evidence for Dandelion being part elven, other than just the fact that he is mistaken for one. He is a pretty pretty boy who looks young for his age.

But since he looks like an elf, there's a bit of fertile ground to headcanon it. It's not canon but it's a reasonable use or extrapolation of canon! Would he even know if he were like a quarter elf? Who knows? We don't even know where Lettenhove is. Go crazy!

So, TWN accidentally not aging him turned out to be not too 'off canon'. And it is no surprise that he is often head-canoned as part elf.

Actually I think Hexer actually makes him part elf as well. Hell, I make him part elf in most of my fics.

So there's no canon evidence? But it's not an outrageous thing to headcanon or anything.

THANK YOU CHERRY FOR DOING THIS WITH ME. IT'S SO FUN BEING A NERD WITH YOU ABOUT TRANSLATIONS.

[saku-rhyth]

AU-gust Part 1: The Witcher

This AU has been bouncing around in my head for ages so I am so glad I had an excuse to draw it <3 Anyways Eddie would of course be the Dandelion/Jaskier character, he is there to sing songs and create gay chaos. Steve is 100% Ciri like he is not a weathered old witcher he is a baby Witcher trying his best I'm gonna add more thoughts down below as I have more!!

ANYWAYS Steve would have Ciri's backstory like child surprise prince of Cintra, Hopper is Geralt in this so he is Hopper's child surprise. Steve is given some amount of freedom in his training where he's allowed off Kaer Morhen to go do Witcher-y things which is where he meets Eddie who just. Will not leave him alone. I feel like he would assume Steve is a much older Witcher and not the same age really so Steve is constantly getting over his head to keep up the lie. Also Eddie deffo has like a bit of Elf blood in him. Maybe a bit of untrained magic as well. I feel like Robin would be like Steve's Yennefer but with no sex/romance. They've bonded and are going on misadventures together sometimes as well.

[thenightling]

More thoughts on The Witcher

Ever since the Netflix TV series of The Witcher decided to reveal that Jaskier (Yas-key-er) the sidekick bard character, is bisexual, I've seen more complaints about Netflix making The Witcher Woke. Netflix... Making... The Witcher... Woke... Were you not paying attention? The Witcher was ALWAYS woke! First we have the elves, second class citizens who were previously wiped out during a totally-not-a-holocaust allegory. They very obviously serve as a metaphor for Jewish and Roma people. With some indigenous people forced from their own land by colonialism BLATANT symbolism. Having Yennefer (A sorceress who is part elf) played by a woman who is of mixed Indian racial background helps drive this intended allegory home. Ciri (Geralt's adopted daughter) is canonically not straight and becomes the first woman Witcher. But somehow there are "fans" who are pissed off at Jaskier being revealed as bisexual. By the way, to think Jaskier of The Witcher Netflix series is straight is to have no gaydar (I am using the term Gaydar to mean all potential flavors of Queerness). He had a break up song about Geralt in season 2! A full season before the show finally showed him writing a song for man he had a crush on and kissing the man. The character is pretty much The Witcher version of Freddie Mercury (right down to the vocal range).

[friendlyreaderandco]

Ah! I lost another fic! I need to be better at bookmarking the ones I like! I’m 90% sure this one is a completed multi chapter on Ao3.

In this one Jaskier winters in Kaer Morhen. He ends up being very cuddly with all the Witchers (Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt). They all share a bed and really love Jaskier. I remember that lambert makes a comment at one point about how Jaskier will die soon and so they all stop touching him and Jaskier starts to get sad and insecure. Then vesemir goes to bed early since the room smells so sad at dinner. Jaskier all but yells at them asking why they seem to think he is a monster before he admits that he isn’t fully human and freaks out a bit before they all hug him and tell them it doesn’t make a difference.

I can’t remember who Jaskier is in love with. It’s either Geralt or all three of them! Also pretty sure Jaskier is part wood elf and he doesn’t age and flowers live a bit longer than they should. Geralt also makes a comment about how the flowers braided into his hair never wilt and lambert tries to tease Geralt about letting Jaskier braid them into his hair and he shoots back with something like, “shut up, you would let him braid them into your hair too!”

Thank you for any help!

@the-nettle-knight Saved my sanity! Thank you.

Fic found! If I Must Starve- Igneum807. A great sweet read!

[kingthunder]

Analysis of Jaskier's songs from s1—

—and how they reflect the narrative events and Jaskier's character arc through the show. I'm trying to keep this as canon as possible and not look at it through shipping goggles, but there is textual stuff about Jaskier's relationship with and love for Geralt that's impossible to ignore.

Toss a Coin to Your Witcher: Jaskier’s first big break, the famous and famously annoying Toss a Coin. He wrote this when he was around eighteen and it definitely feels immature. He’s cracking bad jokes like “elf on a shelf” (god I hate that one, it grates me every time) and substituting “bleat” for “beat.” He’s taking enormous creative liberties with facts. And he’s being a little thoughtless; in his enthusiasm to hero-wash Geralt, he’s throwing elves under the bus, calling them devils and pests while he’s talking about Geralt as a friend to “humanity.” (more about this when we get into some of his later songs and his time as the Sandpiper)

This is an upbeat, catchy (and kind of shallow) song that I mentally classify as one of his “narrative” songs. It tells a story. It feels optimistic, much like Jaskier himself at this point in his life. After all, this is the kid who saw a big scary witcher brooding in a corner and decided that nothing could go wrong by following him around. He’s got a head full of heroics and heartbreak and nothing is going to dissuade him, not even being nearly killed. This song is a perfect time capsule of the beginning of Jaskier’s career and also the beginning of his long-running relationship with Geralt.

The Fishmonger’s Daughter: Jaskier plays this at Calanthe’s court when she orders him to play “a jig.” It seems like a pretty typical bawdy tavern song, the kind where you try to drum up audience participation. Most of the court seems to know it and sing along with it. No idea if Jaskier wrote this himself. He probably didn’t. It seems like one of those songs that everyone just knows.

Her Sweet Kiss: This song makes me feel deranged. This is definitely a Jaskier original. We see him writing and noodling with it at the beginning of The Mountain (tm) and asking other people if his lyrics are scanning well. He’s been traveling with Geralt on and off for about twenty years now, so he’s forty years old or close to it. He’s seen some shit, and part of the shit he’s seen has been Geralt and Yennefer’s relationship. He is not a fan. He is so deeply not a fan that he’s writing a whole song about it. But also? He’s putting himself in the song too, and he’s putting his heart on his sleeve, the same way that he tries to do when he talks to Geralt about going to the coast. The lyrics of this song are about three people—a man (Geralt), a woman (Yennefer), and the singer (Jaskier). It’s about how the woman is bad for the man, and how much the singer loves the man.

Whether you see Jaskier’s feelings for Geralt as romantic or not, these are the facts:

He doesn’t like Yennefer or think that she’s good for Geralt, and says so, repeatedly, both in casual conversation and in his music. In the song, he writes, “She’s always bad news, it’s always lose-lose” and that, “She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss.” 

In the song, Jaskier calls Geralt “my love” and says, “I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting.”

He asks Geralt to go to the coast with him, so they can “work out what pleases” them. He wants them to stay together and not go their separate ways like they often do.

Immediately after this plea, Geralt goes straight to Yennefer and (just in case anyone was doubting that Her Sweet Kiss was about the three of them) Geralt and Yennefer fuck while an instrumental version of Her Sweet Kiss plays over the sex. I still can’t believe the showrunners did that. That was A Damn Choice. (deranged, I am deranged about everything about this)

The kicker is that the song wasn’t even finished when Geralt flipped his lid and shouted Jaskier off The Mountain (tm) and out of his life. Which means that Jaskier, alone and heartbroken (his own words from s2), finished this song and published it afterwards, even knowing that the entire situation had gone tits up and that he might not even see Geralt or Yennefer again. Maybe it gave him some catharsis to sing it, who knows.

This isn’t a shallow catchy tune like Toss a Coin or even Fishmonger’s Daughter. It’s deeply personal and a tonal shift from his previous music.

(and it makes me deranged)

Stay tuned for my season 2 thoughts!

[thedemonofcat]

One afternoon in a tavern, a dwarf approaches Geralt and Jaskier with a job for Geralt. It seems that several groups have been kidnapping non-humans, especially elves, to sell them to the highest bidder.

Geralt initially wonders how he can help dismantle such an organization. The dwarf suggests going undercover as a seller, with Geralt pretending to sell Jaskier.

This idea shocks them, as Jaskier's part-elf heritage is supposed to be a secret. The dwarf, however, points out that Jaskier is too pretty to be fully human.

Ultimately, it is Jaskier who persuades Geralt that they should help. At a party where the deals are set to take place, the plan starts off smoothly.

But then, Geralt loses sight of Jaskier in the crowd.

[bardcore-jaskier]

♡ Challenge for Netflix: stop treating Jaskier as comedic relief ♡

(I made this post piggyback riding off of my last one, like a part two if you will.)

Ok, so you know how Jaskier always seems to get into trouble? And either Geralt and as of season 2, now Yennefer as well, always seem be rescuing him? Even Jaskier himself made a joke about it to our beloved witch.

- "You don't get to play damsel in distress. That's my job."

Sadly, it paints a little bit of an unflattering picture of him to the audience, making many of us wonder (well, not on this side of Tumblr, we know he is a badass motherfucker) about how he survives whenever he is not by a strong witcher's/sorceress's side.

Have you considered though....

That the entire series is written and shot from the POV of ridiculously powerful individuals and Geralt in particular, being the main character of both the books, games & the series, has an extreme savior complex, more so bordering on a martyr complex.

In the Netflix Witcher series and unlike the books: Geralt's friendship with Jaskier started off rocky until he begrudgingly accepted that he can not get rid of the bard, eventually becoming a little fond of him, appreciating Jaskier's loyalty above every other quality Jaskier has, which makes Jaskier easy to trust. (However it is still apparent that their friendship is a little, if not a lot, one-sided)

Obviously Geralt doesn't want Jaskier's death or severe injury on his conscience, which is why he jumps in every time he senses danger, to save him before anything bad happens.

We as the audience only see Netflix's or rather Lauren's version of the story about a scorned hero who has a fragile, trouble magnet, human friend he feels responsible for. When in reality, the only few instances Jaskier wouldn't have survived without outside help were a) the Djinn, b) Rience, c) the opening scenes of Blood Origin.

Other than that, Jaskier is actually a VERY competent person! Alas, not much of that competence was shown on screen, we got mere crumbs of it to be honest. Like how despite being a flowery pacifist, he is braver than most + apparently he is a beefcake too. At 18/19 years old, he wasn't scared of approaching a witcher who at the time, was rumored to be a murderer. He always finds a way to stay lighthearted during the most dire of situations, always getting right back up with a smile or a snide comment after every traumatic experience, as if it never happened. (Is he like immune to PTSD or something? Nothing brings him down.) He even managed to start an elf smuggling operation for fuck's sake!

During the finale episode of season 2, many seasoned witchers died in battle at the hands of Voleth Mier, his chances of surviving were beyond slim. Any other normal human being would have dropped that damn jasper and ran for their life, but not Jaskier! No sir! He crawled his way towards Geralt under a wooden table, as monsters and witchers alike dropped to their deaths around him, all to help his friend!

In the books, Dandelion is presented to us as a smooth talker, able to get himself in and out of almost any kind of trouble with words + charisma alone. He is an Oxenfurt professor, has worked for the Redanian intelligence, he has connections all over the continent.

And I really hope that we will get to see all of that in future seasons, I hope that Geralt's attitude towards him changes, I hope that Jaskier gets the respect he deserves! Because after season 2, I am going to keep watching the series only for Jaskier alone. Also Yennefer. I do not much like Geralt and Ciri in the live adaptation at the moment.

[d-andilion]

sing me a tragedy

(geraskier, E, canon compliant, blood origin spoilers, getting together, angst with a happy ending, vague and handwavy smut, it barely counts tbh, 2.6k)

read on ao3

Hidden in the underground, far from the beaten path, Geralt watches his bard whip a crowd of humanity’s most despised into a beer-fueled frenzy. Not to earn their supper or their lodgings this time; the elf who owns this worn but well-loved waystation refused to accept coin for either after what the Sandpiper did for her grandson, seeing the boy on a ship to her arms. Right now, Jaskier plays because their fellow patrons chanted his name until he obliged. 

Geralt has to admit that Jaskier has more than proven himself as a travel companion these past few weeks. Since leaving the safety of Kaer Morhen, Ciri in Yennefer’s care for the season, finding places to keep their heads low has been a challenge. A challenge, at least, among humans. The Sandpiper, however, has won great favor with elves, dwarves, halflings, and just about every other intelligent species on the Continent. In their carefully concealed taverns and speakeasies, Jaskier is received like royalty.

“Sing loud and proud

The Song of the Seven

Be you halfling or gnome,

Or Dwarven or Elven”

This song is a new one. In fairness, most of Jaskier’s tunes are new to Geralt these days. Jaskier hasn’t abandoned his older repertoire, but he avoids large swathes of it to ward off any unwelcome attention. This one, though, feels different than the other additions to Jaskier’s catalog since their parting. More heroics than heartbreak, and a fiery call to action that sets it apart from his typical drama and sensation.

So much about Jaskier is different than Geralt remembers, his songs being the least of it. A few years is nothing in the grand scheme of their history, even less compared to all the years Geralt has lived, but it feels as though decades have slipped between his fingers. So many things have changed, things that Geralt didn’t realize he’d come to see as fixtures in his world until they disappeared, some of them forever. 

There’s the lute, for one thing. Jaskier has been cagey about how exactly a brand new elven lute came to be in his possession after the first one was destroyed against the side of his head, but it plays as beautifully for him as Filavandrel’s ever did. It’s nearly identical in style, too, with dark wood and golden patterns etched into it. Anyone who didn’t spend half a lifetime watching Jaskier’s long fingers dance along the strings would never be able to tell that this lute’s pattern of markings is different from its predecessor’s.

There’s the outfit, too. The waistcoat is similar enough to patterns and styles that Jaskier has worn before, but the hat and jacket make him look like a third-rate imitation of a storybook pirate. It’s nothing at all like the bright-colored matching ensembles he used to wear, though it’s nearly as impractical if not more so. Geralt honestly can’t tell if he hates it because it’s ridiculous or because it doesn’t fit into the gallery of bold greens and soft blues and glaring reds that roll through his mind when he thinks of his bard.

And there’s the bard himself, of course. Not really Geralt’s anymore if he ever was. He’s still loud and dramatic and filled to the brim with useless romantic notions about what the world is or ought to be. But there’s something lurking underneath it all now, something harder and fiercer behind his eyes than anything Geralt has seen in him before. The harshness of a man who’s seen the senseless death and darkness of war. The bitterness of one who’s been left behind and expects to be again.

There’s none of that in him when he performs, though. Or else he hides it far more efficiently. Even to Geralt’s honed eye, Jaskier exudes only joy when he sings.

“No oppressor can hide them

Carry their glories and rise!”

Jaskier finishes with a roaring flourish and the crowd chants his words back to him twice as loud. This Song of the Seven may be more popular than Toss a coin ever was. Geralt has never seen an audience warm so quickly to a new tune, much less poor folk in a war-torn country. These people need hope now more than anything.

The barkeep pushes a pair of ales at Jaskier as he passes by and refuses to take a cent for them despite Jaskier’s best efforts. He finally gives up when she threatens him with a broom, turning to Geralt’s dark corner of the room. 

“That’s new,” says Geralt as Jaskier sits down, passing a stein to his side of the table.

Jaskier crooks an eyebrow at him and smirks. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

Geralt doesn’t know what to say to that. Before, he might not have thought twice about teasing so light as that, but this, too, has changed. Sometimes there’s banter and sometimes there are digs from that snarl of discontent that still rears up between them, and Geralt can never really be sure which he’s getting.

Jaskier takes pity on him, smiling easily. “It came from a story I heard in Temeria,” he says. “There’s a bard in it, you know. And a witcher.”

He looks for a moment like he means to say more, but then the corner of his mouth twists sharply and he snaps it shut with an audible click. Jaskier smiles again, this time cruel and close-lipped. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says.

Before Geralt can think of anything to say, any comfort or correction to whatever it is he’s done wrong this time, Jaskier stands up and flees to a nearby table of dwarves. He doesn’t look back.

An hour or so later, the revelry dies down and the bar room clears out but for a few stragglers. Jaskier is among them, across the room now from Geralt at an empty table with a drink Geralt knows is almost completely full. Geralt watched the bard carefully while he made round after round of the room, soaking up the occupants’ stories and sharing his own entirely fabricated ones. Half a dozen rounds were shoved into Jaskier’s hands, and he took them gratefully with bright smiles, but he abandoned them just as quickly when their givers were occupied.

When Geralt found Jaskier in Oxenfurt, he couldn’t be parted from a bottle for his life. Now his drinking comes and goes. Some days he dulls his senses with wine from dusk till dawn. Some days are like this: feigning all the trappings of a man in his cups without downing more than a mouthful. 

Geralt leaves his own stein half-full with a few coins beside it and turns for Jaskier’s table. Another Geralt might have left his friend to sulk, but that Geralt wouldn’t have used the word ‘friend’ to describe Jaskier, not even in his head. This one is trying to make amends, still, all these many months later. 

If Jaskier hears him coming, he doesn’t show it. Geralt sits on the bench beside him, facing out towards the room with his back against the table, and Jaskier doesn’t give him so much as a glance. Their shoulders just barely brush.

“Tell me your story,” says Geralt. “About the bard and the witcher.”

Jaskier fixes him with a confused frown. “It doesn’t—”

“Tell me anyway.”

Geralt watches Jaskier watch him through a long, pregnant pause. Blue eyes, still so bright in the low light, search Geralt’s face and he can’t tell whether they find what they’re looking for or not. Either way, Jaskier huffs a humorless laugh to himself and speaks.

“It was a long time ago, just before the Conjunction.”

Jaskier pauses again like he’s waiting for Geralt to correct him. There were no witchers before the Conjunction; there was no need for them. Geralt doesn’t say so, though. Instead, he waits patiently for Jaskier to continue.

“The witcher was a warrior,” he says. “A protector, wrongfully exiled for defiling a princess.”

Jaskier eyes Geralt again, warier this time. Geralt feels that twist in his gut the way he always does, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“The bard was a runaway, fleeing a life that was chosen for her.” Jaskier grins at that, small and wistful. “Fate brought them together, but they chose to walk side by side.”

It’s not a pretty story, exactly, but it’s the kind of story that has always caught Jaskier’s attention. A ragtag group of heroes, an indomitable foe, magic, monsters, and romance to tie it all together. It might even be true for all Geralt knows. The way Jaskier tells it, his voice soft and his phrases unembellished, so unlike his usual way of weaving tales, makes the whole thing almost believable. They’ve all seen stranger things.

Geralt doesn’t miss the shift in the air around Jaskier when he talks about the Lark and her witcher. His heart beats just the slightest bit faster and his scent deepens imperceptibly to anyone who doesn’t know it better than their own. Geralt isn’t blind to his own reaction either, the heaviness in his chest that grows and grows.

Contrary to popular belief, Geralt isn’t stupid. It’s not that he doesn’t know how much he wants Jaskier. The depths of that desire plunge too deep to go unnoticed, and it has holed up inside him for so long, he doesn’t know who he would be without it. It’s not that he doesn’t know how Jaskier feels either. The bard isn’t subtle and he has never insulted either of their intelligence by pretending to be.

What Geralt doesn’t know has never been the problem. It’s what he does know. And what he knows, has always known, is that acting on his wants would be a singularly terrible idea.

But that was before. Before Geralt’s own Child Surprise foretold the end of the world and all of them with it. Before he landed with his own feet in another sphere of demons and monsters beyond his wildest imaginings. Before all of them wound up tangled in a war with nightmares, more terrifying than any foolish mistake, hidden around every corner.

Before Geralt knew what it felt like to lose Jaskier. And before he knew with crushing certainty that to have done so without ever knowing what it felt like to have Jaskier, really have him, is worse than any fear Geralt has ever felt.

“She killed him, in the end, to end his suffering,” says Jaskier softly.

“Not a very happy story,” Geralt replies.

“Some of the best stories are tragedies. It’s romantic.”

Geralt frowns. “But he dies at the end.”

Jaskier smiles miserably. “I think you and I both know that love doesn’t always have a happy ending.”

That plucks something sharp in Geralt’s chest, something that twists at the bitter shadow in Jaskier’s eyes. Fuck it, Geralt thinks, fuck all of it. He takes Jaskier's chin between his thumb and his forefinger and kisses him before good sense can frighten either of them away again. 

There’s a gut-wrenching fraction of a second where Jaskier’s mouth is still against Geralt’s, but within the same heartbeat, he’s kissing back and back and back. Jaskier’s hand curls around Geralt’s wrist, holding himself in place as if Geralt would ever let him go now. His lips part for Geralt’s tongue with a soft groan and he tastes like his last sip of ale. Geralt feels drunk on it, on Jaskier, the plush warmth of his mouth, and the scent of his growing arousal filling Geralt’s nose. 

The harsh scrape of chair legs on a wooden floor startles them apart. Geralt’s head snaps up to find the barkeep straightening her stools, eyes focused downward but a knowing grin on her lips.

When he turns back, Jaskier hasn’t pulled away but his uneasy expression says that the thought is playing on his mind. He looks at Geralt like he’s waiting to be pushed away, even as he clutches Geralt’s wrist. Geralt pulls Jaskier back to him, fingers still cradling the bard’s chin, until their noses brush. 

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asks and his hot breath rolls over Geralt’s lips carrying the taste of his mouth to Geralt’s tongue, and even that faint echo makes Geralt’s heart stutter.

“Kicking off another tragedy, I expect.”

Jaskier pushes their foreheads together. “You can still stop this one.”

“No,” says Geralt and it feels like surrender. “No, I can’t.”

The small hearth in their room is dark and cold when they stumble inside. Geralt can see well enough to guide them both, but he tears himself away from Jaskier’s hungry kisses to light the fire. When it’s finally ablaze and he turns to find the bard sprawled out on their bed, discarding the last of his clothing, Geralt is glad he took the time. 

Even if only in the dim red light, cast over with long and flickering shadows, he wants to see this.

This—miles of bare skin, calloused and scarred in places it wasn’t when last Geralt laid eyes on it, and quivering as he presses his lips to every place he should have been there to protect. Jaskier is so warm to touch, so much warmer than Geralt, his emphatically human heart hammering away in his chest for both of them.

This—achingly familiar hands with long fingers and soft palms, gliding over the shine of sweat on Geralt’s chest and his arms and his back. Jaskier is so gentle with his touches, as though Geralt could break beneath them, as though Jaskier would ever break him even if he could. But then Geralt touches just so and nails bite into his skin and he longs to see their matching bruises side by side. 

This—a hungry mouth that kisses wherever it can and urges Geralt to give, to take. Every graze of his fingers, his lips, his tongue, draws the sweetest sounds. Jaskier is so liberal with his voice, utterly without shame as he tells Geralt exactly what he needs and how good he feels, as he begs him to touch me darling, there, again, more, more, please, please, please…

Every sense, every synapse, every nerve is straining to capture this moment because if their world ends tomorrow, Geralt wants his last memory to be the way Jaskier clings to him, sings to him, as he pushes inside.

Each second stretches into a thousand and disappears in an instant all at once. An eternity is lived in the space between each of Jaskier’s gorgeous moans and breathless cries, but too soon, Geralt feels himself hurtling over the edge. He comes with Jaskier’s name on his lips and the hot burn of tears behind his eyes.

They lie there, silent but for their breath, while their sweat dries and the fire burns to embers. Geralt fits himself to Jaskier’s back, a knee between his, an arm circling his waist, and his face tucked into the crook of Jaskier’s neck. The bard reaches back to tangle his fingers in Geralt’s hair and begins to hum an unfamiliar tune.

“That’s new,” Geralt rumbles, muffled by Jaskier’s skin.

Jaskier hums in agreement. “I think it’s about a bard and a witcher.”

Geralt takes a few long, slow breaths before he replies. “Another tragedy?”

Jaskier presses the tips of his fingers against Geralt’s scalp and massages along the back of his head until he finds a spot he discovered years ago while scrubbing drowner brains from Geralt’s hair, the one that elicits a sound very near purring. Geralt no longer expects an answer, but he gets one after his eyes have long fallen shut, whispered into the gathering darkness.

“Not this time.”

~~

my masterlist

[podcastenthusiast]

Jaskier has to be part elf, right? Right???

They can't be saying "okay, now inspire oppressed non-humans with song, Human Man!"

[lassieposting]

So in NOTW Illyana had three daughters with Lord Zerbst, one of whom had just made her a grandmother before the Sacking of Kaer Morhen. As children of a noble house, those daughters would've married into other noble houses across the Continent.

Anyway AU where she survives to see her youngest daughter marry a Pankratz of Lettenhove.

She survives to see the birth of several grandchildren and even more great-grandchildren, including a brood of Pankratzes.

Everyone in Jaskier's family knows that Great-Grandmama had a tame witcher. It's part of the Family Lore. Jaskier - Julian, back then - spent more time in disgrace at Great-Grandmama's lake house than his better-behaved siblings, and he's fairly sure he actually bumped into the witcher - gods, what was his name? - once or twice; tall and strong, golden-eyed and intimidating. He's only ever known Great-Grandmama as a twinkly-eyed, wizened raisin of a woman who walked with a cane, but her witcher looked young enough to be her grandson himself, no older than Father.

(He's fairly sure he only remembers these chance meetings at all because Great-Grandmama's witcher really had been quite startlingly handsome. Jaskier has always appreciated broad shoulders and toned arms. Perhaps this was something of a formative experience for him.)

She told him once that they'd once been children together, and that her witcher had grown boys of his own, but Jaskier hadn't believed her. No way they were the same age.

They seemed happy, though, despite the age gap. He remembers her giggling like a schoolgirl as her witcher swept her off her feet to lift her into her carriage as though she weighed nothing at all.

(Looking back, and with the advantage of knowing Geralt, the swords the monster hunter carried probably weighed more than she did, by then. She really was terribly old.)

He remembers the roll of letters she kept in her bedside drawer - yes, he was a snoop as a boy, sue him - tied up with a silk ribbon. Remembers the stories she told him when he was small, of brave and heroic monster hunters protecting the innocent from a grisly fate.

He finds himself telling Geralt's family this little nugget of Pankratz family history over an evening of ale, passing on Great-Grandmama's stories. The one about the two young witchers teaming up against a manticore. The one about the big battle at some hidden witcher fortress a long way from Lettenhove - the battle that almost killed her witcher, and would've killed her too had he not sent her away beforehand. The one about the witcher and the elf king.

And when he finishes the story, he realises that his audience has gone very quiet and very still

And they're all staring at Vesemir