#tldr: geralt is cursed to look like a monster to his one true love. it's just as well that jaskier is a certified monster lover

[jaskiersvalley]

I absolutely adore your work! HE and the illiterate witchers and just everything in general! You have such a gentle and kind way of writing! When Geralt overheard the conversation at the hospital and finally understood what Jaskier was saying?? It hit me in the heart! We often come to realisations well after from something unconnected! It's extremely relatable! I also really appreciate your TDLRS! If I feel worried or think something might be triggering I can always check it and know what's up!

So I may have sat on this ask for close to a year. Oops. Did I get very self-conscious about feeling like I talked too much about Heart Exchange at some point? You bet. So now I'm shuffling in, head bowed in apology and offer you some Geraskier. TLDRs, as usual, are in the tags but, if there is ever anything that needs a tag or I can do differently to help avoid triggers/things you just don't want to read then do let me know (and I won't take a year to respond this time, I promise!).

Blaviken was a clusterfuck to say the least. To top off an already nightmarish situation, Geralt had to go and get cursed as a final insult to injury. If he understood the words correctly, he was forever cursed to seem like a monster to his one true love. On one hand, Geralt didn't much care. He didn't believe in one true love bullshit and nobody actually went around falling in love with a Witcher. On the other hand, he couldn't help but wonder whether the person who flinched away from him or turned and hurried away might have seen him more beast than man. Maybe it was the person who could have given him a speck of hope and warmth in an otherwise cold and hard world.

The years trickled by, Geralt found himself with a bard tagging along. He had looked intrigued by Geralt, even when he realised he was a Witcher. Slowly but surely he found himself warming up to Jaskier.

"You're the first Witcher I met," Jaskier prattled on, heedless of Geralt's grunts. It seemed that he was content to take the silence, the hums and terse words, and spin them into a conversation by himself.

Really, Jaskier was an odd one. He had taken it on himself to help turn the tide on the opinion the Continent held about Witchers. One village, one tavern at a time, he sang, he cajoled, he smiled and, as they left the settlements behind, there was a lingering sense of contentment.

There was just one issue. As loud and proud Jaskier was, he made no secret of loving Geralt. It was nice, in a way but Geralt couldn't help feel a pang of disappointment. Jaskier loved him, declared it often enough. But that meant they weren't destined to be a couple. And, if Geralt ever hoped that it might change, he rapidly reeled his emotions back in. If he went and fell in love with Jaskier then the spell might activate. And Gerlat didn't think the fragments of his heart that remained could survive the disgust and horror when he turned into a monster in front of Jaskier. So he kept his distance, didn't allow his heart to flutter in his chest each time Jaskier touched him. It was forbidden and it was for the best.

"Come to Kaer Morhen with me," Geralt rumbled late one night when Jaskier was already half asleep after performing for a considerable crowd.

"Alright."

Somehow, Geralt half hoped Jaskier wouldn't remember his request. But, the next morning, Jaskier was already making a list of things he'd need to survive winter in a cold castle. In Geralt's opinion he needed far too much lube but that was just his stingy opinion.

The trek up the mountain was oddly peaceful. Occasionally he caught Jaskier squinting at him in the half light of dusk but he assumed that his human eyes were tired or the light was bothering him. Finally, they made it to Kaer Morhen, last to get back for the season. As the others came to greet them, Jaskier gasped.

"You're all Witchers?"

The question made no sense and Geralt ushered Jaskier off to bed, assuming he needed a bit of sleep. Not that the following morning was much better, Jaskier woke, marched down into the kitchen and lined the Witchers up, looking over them.

"I don't understand. What happened?"

"I went through two bouts of the trials and mutations," Geralt offered sullenly. "It changed me."

The stare from Jaskier was scrutinising and puzzled. It was only Eskel's hesitant, "What do you actually see, bard?" that helped solve the puzzle.

"All the stories I'd heard about Witchers made them out to be monsters who had once been men. Meeting Geralt, I could well believe that. But you lot-" he gestured at the others, "-you're nothing of the sort."

"But what do you see?" Eskel pushed.

"I see," Jaskier trailed off as he looked at Geralt and glanced away with a frown. "I don't know. Something huge, monstrous and terrifying. It's just Geralt but I couldn't tell you what he looks like. Yet I'll recognise him when I see him."

"The curse!" Lambert crowed in delight, not that Jaskier understood.

"Sometimes, when the light was low in the evening, I thought I could catch a glimpse of what Geralt had been before the transformation. Silver hair, scarred but built like a wet dream. His eyes were the same though, a beautiful amber-yellow."

Lambert was full on cackling while even Eskel grinned. His next question was one that had Geralt and Jaskier blushing.

"Yet you still travelled with him, shared a bedroll with him, heck, you even kissed him. Why?"

"Because I love him."

There was a grunt from Geralt and he stared at the ground. "Then why didn't the curse break?"

"Curse?"

It took a few minutes to explain and Jaskier hung onto every word of the story with large eyes. He was the one who ended up chuckling by the end, turning to Geralt to cup a grotesque cheek. "My darling, I love you as you are. I fell in love with my monstrous Witcher, not some very handsome man. I wouldn't want to change you for the world."

He kissed Geralt gently then, no hesitation. "Plus, I find you incredibly sexy like this. Anyone can fuck a human, Witcher or otherwise. But you? You're exquisite. I'd gladly bed you, scars, gnarls and all. You're unique and I can't get enough of you."

Blinking dumbly, Geralt took a moment before he wrapped a hand and Jaskier's wrist and started tugging him back towards their bed.