#herdingwolves

[seralyra]

Can I request wolf-ified Jaskier and pack cuddling? 😳 👉👈

A/N: Finally got around to that prompt! So sorry it took so long >< I hope this is what you were asking for~

Lambert had been barricading himself in his lab for too long and it was driving their songbird up the wall, which in turn made Geralt grumpy and snappy. Eskel was, understandably, in a bad mood because of it, but would never stoop so low as to actually let it show. Jaskier was already cursed with two brooding bastards, no need to step into a position that's already been filled twice.

It did make his job of distracting Jaskier from doing something stupid much harder. Lambert had made it pretty clear that their local bard was to stay way away from the lab while he was still experimenting with unsafe potions. But with Lambert hauling himself away all day and Jaskiers impatience and curiousity growing by the hour Eskel had his work cut out for him.

Geralt had fled the scene to help Vesemir around the fortress right after breakfast, nerves frayed from trying to keep Jaskier entertained yesterday. And so Eskel was the one bardsitting. He was doing a pretty good job of it, too, he felt, helping their little songbird compose in the library. Drawing his mind back to the page whenever Jaskiers focus slipped. He was reminded of his younger years when he and Geralt had studied for the tests on monster lore and alchemy. This was nicer though, no threat of repercussions if you got something wrong, no real deadlines to catch. Just two family members, learning and creating for funs sake.

There was a warmth to the time they spent together and Eskel had to bite his cheek every once in a while when he remembered nearly shooting Jaskier, prematurily ending everyones joy. It would end eventually. Jaskier was only human, even if he was surprisingly resilient and fit. They would outlast him. Probably. If they weren't killed by a monster or a mob first.

Maybe after figuring out how to make a save animal transformation potion they could help Lambert work on an immortality one. If Jaskier would even agree to that.

"Eskel? What would you say rhymes with sword? I mean, word, obviously, but I can't for the life of me think of any other. My brain is stuck. Really this shouldn't be as hard as it is! This song just doesn't want to be written!"

"Hm. You could go with cord or board. Or maybe even bored. What's the line again?"

"And with a swift blow of his sword."

"He cut the cord?"

"This is supposed to describe training. Why would anyone cut a cord? And where?"

"I mean Vesemir sometimes looks ready to cut the rope we use to play tug of war."

Something manic glinted in Jaskiers eyes as a grin spread over his handsome face. "That! That's gold comedy! Yes I can see it, the clumsy young wolf pups of Kaer Morhen!"

"Please don't use any names."

"It's perfect Eskel! I've only ever wrote you as heroes! And that is all fine and well when it comes to good publicity. But showing your more vulnerable side- Well I can't do that outside of romance when you're supposed to be all grown up, people would start getting bad ideas in their heads. You already get cheated far too much as is. But if we talk kids? Yes, yes that could work."

Jaskier furiously scratched out everything he had already written beforehand, ripped the page out of his notebook and started scribbling down ideas on the new one with a frevor that made Eskel worry about the paper.

He settled back to watch him nevertheless, smiling at the passion his friend was showing for his work. It was meditative to watch him, the miniscule twitches of his face as he concentrated, how he gnawed at his lip in thought. Eskel drank it like an addict, all too aware that he had nearly lost the chance to exist alongside this human being more times than he was comfortable with. He cherished all his time with his family. The thought of that moment being the last ever present in his mind.

In hindsight, Eskel may have been a little too relaxed. He had never had such a prolonged period of time where he could just exist and the place he sat at was especially sunny and warm. Dozing off was not a choice at this point but an inevitability. He had just meant to blink. But when he opened his eyes again time had sped forward and away from him. Just like Jaskier.

It took a bit to clarify that yes, the spot where their bard had been sitting was empty. Eskel breathed through the first ripples of panic. That was fine. Maybe Jaskier just went to get himself some water or food. Or he could have gone to relief himself. Jaskier was a grown man and could look after himself.

None of the calming self talk actually reassured him.

Using his Witcher senses to track Jaskiers, by now overly familiar scent, Eskels dread grew. The trail led away from the kitchen and the courtyard and down the stairs into the basement. Eskel followed it in long, even strides, ears straining for Jaskiers voice, or Lamberts.

"Well fuck me."

Eskel cursed quietly when he heard Lambert say that, breaking into a run and throwing open the door to the labs. Lambert was standing there, hands on his hips looking both pleased and exhausted. In front of him lay a brownish red wolf with streaks of grey, tail thumping the ground in excitement. The two seemed to have a staring contest going on, neither breaking it to see Eskel entering.

"What happened this time?" Eskel very much not whined. But it was a close call.

"Jaskier wanted to test the new potion." Lambert answered, still staring at Jaskier with a frown.

"And you let him?!"

"I mean, yeah? I knew it was most likely safe this time. And he would have downed it permission or not."

"Jaskier..."

Jaskier stirred at Eskel despairing tone, stood and shook himself before coming over and bumping his head into Eskels leg. And well Eskel wasn't immune to Jaskiers charms even when he was in human form. He knelt down so fast that his kneecaps screamed at him when they made contact with the harsh stone floor. But the pain was worth it for the heavenly feeling of Jaskiers fur under his fingers.

He soon found himself with his arms tight around his newly wolfified companion, nose buried in his friends neck, where the fur was thickest. Jaskier, miraculously, held still except for the tail that continued to thrash at the ground.

"Hey I should have dips on that." Lambert grumbled, but did nothing more than join them on the floor to stroke over Jaskiers back.

They stayed like that for who knew how long. Eskel didn't. He was in heaven. At one point he had gone from kneeling to encircling Jaskier with his legs, tugging him even closer. Lambert had stood again, taking care to fill the potion bottles with the rest of the sludge, painstakingly labelling them for one local idiot extraordinaire.

"What do you think? Will he be able to handle the stairs in this form?"

Jaskier howled at the challenge and Eskel let him go before he would get head butted out of the way. At least Jaskier was more careful now, waiting until both Eskel and Lambert were ready to follow him. He trodded in front of them, confident in his stride and only his ear swiveled back every once in a while to make sure they were still behind him.

It was quite a pleasure to watch him bounce ahead of them, Eskel mused. Jaskier came out to be an elegant animal, all long limbs and lithe grace. He almost reached Eskels waist and was maybe a little too scrawny for his mass. Eskel frowned at the realization. He would need to speak to Geralt about that. Jaskier always shared his plate with him. Maybe they should start encouraging him to finish it himself.

Jaskier considered the steep stairs upward for a long moment before setting a paw on the first stair. Eskel could practically see the cogs in his head turning, trying to figure out the logistics of using four legs on all those raised stones.

Apparently wolves just didn't have the head for stairs. What hadn't faced Jaskier at all in fox form now made his head break. It took him a few tries to make his longer legs work in a way that was efficient enough for the steps.

Lambert made an impressed whistling sound when Jaskier finally managed to bumble up onto the ground floor, which was answered by an excited bark. Eskel smiled at the way their songbird puffed up with pride and bend down to give him a pat.

"Well done. Good boy."

Lambert laughed his ass off, halfway up the stairs and leaning on the wall for support, while Eskel blinked as he realized the sudden position change, lying on the floor with an excited Jaskier licking all over his face.

Well at least he was in an affectionate mood. Eskel doubted he would have been able to restrain himself the way he had when Jaskier had been turned into a fox.

"Yes, yes, your the best, the very best." He continued to encourage, ruffling through Jaskiers fur as his friend made delighted noises and continue to lick and nuzzle, headbutting his jaw every once in a while in his excitement.

"We should give him a snack for his accomplishment." Lambert drawled, having made it to them. Again he knelt down to join them in their impromptu petting session. If they continued on like that the way to the kitchen would take ages.

Jaskier barked enthusiastically and twisted around awkwardly to lick a big, wet stripe across Lamberts face. Eskel chuckled at Lamberts grossed out look, wiping his own face dry.

"Good idea."

Their trip was halted again when they ran into Vesemir in one of the halls, who gave them all a nonplussed look.

"Again?"

"It was deliberate this time." Eskel tried to defend both of his group members, realizing too late that this probably just made things worse.

"Right." Vesemir sounded pretty dead. Or maybe he was just this tired.

Jaskier let out a pitiful whine and robbed over to Vesemir on his belly, nosing at his shoes, before rolling over and gazing up at him with big, blue eyes and laid back ears. With a sigh Vesemir lowered himself to Jaskiers level, reverently stroking through his fur on his head, coaxing the ears to stay upright again. Jaskier flipped back to lay on his stomach, pushing into every touch he was granted.

"Rascal."

Eskel was sure there was more Vesemir wanted to say. He could feel a whole hours long lecture building up in the halted breaths his former mentor took. But their foster father didn't say a word more, just gazed thoughtfully at the wolf laying at his feet, methodically combing through the thick fur in slow, rhythmical strokes.

"We were going to the kitchen." Lambert broke the moment, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. "Jaskier got the stairs on his first try."

Vesemir rumbled a pleased sound. "Impressive."

They found Geralt in the kitchen, preparing their lunch. He looked like an old bitter housewife with his white hair pulled in a high bun, bits and pieces standing up here and there, hands on his hips and a scowl drawing his eyebrows close to his smoldering eyes.

"Again."

Jaskier barked, happy and Geralt only had a split second to throw away the wooden spoon to catch his partner when he barreled towards him. Jaskier was harder to handle in this form, bigger and probably heavier. Geralt got an arm under his butt and hindlegs and another around his back as Jaskier settled his front paws over Geralts shoulders and started to deep clean his face.

A short explanation of the situation later had them all lingering in the kitchen, watching Geralt prepare the food, every once in a while throwing the best bits to Jaskier, who caught them without fail every time. There was decidedly less meat in their stew this time around. No one complained.

"It's impressive that you got the animal right on your second try." Eskel patted Lambert on the back as he said that, both of them watching from the sidelines as Geralt and Jaskier played fetch in the courtyard.

"Not the second. Threw about six batches out before that. You'd think the only thing you'd need to get the animal right is some part of its body."

"But magic never quite works like that, does it."

"Nah. You'd know better, right magic boy?"

Eskel hummed, unsure, but Lambert seemed to take that as a yes.

"Thought so."

"Do you think this will change him on a deeper level?"

"Like the trials?"

"Yes."

Lambert shifted. "I don't think so. He's not in pain is he?"

"I guess. The things we took where a bit different... Have you used mutagens at all?"

"Fuck no."

"Maybe I could help out with the next batch a bit? If it doesn't work on us?"

"It doesn't. I took the one meant for us before I gave Jaskier his. Tasted like shit, but other than that it had no effect."

"We'll figure it out together."

Lambert scoffed, a sharp, but fond smile making his teeth peek out from behind his stretched lips. "Just don't want me to get all the credit."

Eskel lifted his hands with a laugh. "You got me."

Whatever Lambert had wanted to reply was lost as Jaskier barreled into him. Geralt had thrown the stick in their direction without them noticing and Jaskier had jumped after it with a single minded focus.

Eskel glanced from Lambert and Jaskier tangled on the ground up to Geralt, who smirked back at him.

A whine drew Eskels attention back to the pair currently on the floor. Jaskier still had the stick in his mouth and was struggling to get back up, which Eskel deemed nay impossible with the way Lambert had slung his arms around him.

"Nope. I've got you now, you'll have to stay. Sorry that's the rules."

Jaskier let go of the of the stick to bark into Lamberts face.

"What was that? You'll have to speak clearer than that."

Eskel shook his head when Jaskier growled at his little brother in warning. "Lambert let him go he's not in the mood."

"Well shit, but I am."

Jaskier huffed, going slack and how a wolf could pout Eskel didn't know (even with the experiences he had been granted with), but Jaskier pulled it off quite nicely.

"Sorry Jaskier, I tried my best."

His friend grumbled at him, not convinced.

Geralt walked over to them, smirk having softened into a fond little smile. He crouched down, but instead of stroking Jaskier like Lambert and Eskel were doing, he patted Lamberts head.

"Hey!"

That and the following huff were the only real efforts to get Geralt to leave him be. And of course they did nothing to deter their brother. The continued touching was begrudgingly accepted.

"Is this what you three call training these days?"

Even Eskel couldn't help the groan joining the other two. So much for their calm afternoon. Jaskier was happy to be let go at least, trodding over to Vesemir, tail wagging.

"Don't look so happy I want to see how you keep up in this form."

That only seemed to make Jaskier more excited. Geralt slumped against Eskel with another quiet groan, Lambert rolling over so he could sprawl across both their laps. Vesemir looked over to them, unimpressed.

"Up you get you lazy lot."

"Can't we do anything else?" Lambert whined. "We've been running around after him for ages!"

"There are enough things to do around the fortress. There's several leaky spots in the west wing. And the Pendulum could use some upkeep if we don't want the thing crashing down on us mid training."

Eskel considered his choices carefully. "I'll take care of the Pendulum."

"I'll help." Geralt offered.

"Fine leave me to the roof will you..." Lambert muttered.

They scrambled up to flee the scene, Eskel only pausing to look back briefly, smiling to see Vesemir and Jaskier staring at each other.

"Guess we'll be the only ones training to today."

Jaskier barked at him.

"Shush with the barking, you're no pup. Howl like an adult."

Eskel shook his head. He nearly felt sorry for Vesemir. The task of getting Jaskier to grow up was a truly challenging one.

~~~

In hindsight, taking on the tasks might have been harder than the actual training would have been. Eskels muscles screamed at him as he wandered into the library, hoping for a bit of respite. What he found there made him stop and stare. There on the couch sat his old mentor, snoring gently. Jaskier was sprawled over the rest of the couch, head and front paws neatly folded on Vesemirs lap, tail thumping the soft cushions underneath him every few heartbeats. Vesemir had one hand on Jaskiers neck, just gently holding on.

Thinking better of it Eskel retreated back into the hallway to give everyone the news. Jaskier probably wouldn't be joining them in the bedroom tonight. He had found a new favourite pillow.

Oh well, if the potion lasted as long as the last one there would always be tomorrow.

#the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #herdingwolves #my writing #seraswriting #fanfiction #fluff

[seralyra]

Eskel and Lambert got one, so Geralt had to have a picture with Jaskier as well. I still have no fucking clue how to draw doublets.

Edit: Had to darken the lines cause the lighter blue ones and yellow eyes didn’t pop as much.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #wolf geralt #geralt #herdingwolves #fanart #my art #serasart

[seralyra]

Little doodle of the pack in my fic Herding Wolves cause apparently writing about fluffy wolves isn’t enough for me anymore XD

Ignore Lambert idk what I was doing there.

#the witcher #jaskier #wolf!eskel #wolf!lambert #wolf!geralt #eskel #geralt of rivia #lambert #fanfic fanart #fanart #my art #serasart #doodle #herdingwolves

[seralyra]

Recovery Revelations

Pack Building Part 6 ____

Things were going well in Kaer Morhen. The weather was nice, the temperature starting to stay relatively stable and on the warmer side of things. The view down to the valley was growing more beautiful by the day with every new patch of green that appeared. Flowers were blooming everywhere which lead to some interesting herbal lessons from Vesemir.

... And he had just gotten the news from Geralt that his ankle was finally fully functional again.

Of course that meant the first thing he did was climb the ramparts and start exploring the parts of the keep he hadn't gotten to walking around in beforehand. His endless curiousity and pent up energy made him disappear for hours on end, into the deepest bowels of the castle and led him to areas he probably shouldn't have been in.

The wolves were... baffled by this. Why Jaskier didn't know. Especially when he got confused glances from Geralt of all people.

"Jaskier, how the fuck did you get up there?" Lambert shouted at him from below.

Jaskier was sitting on one of the higher walls of the keep, ones that weren't exactly accessable by stairs. But they were also crumbled in some places and with a bit of navigation through likewise halfway destroyed pathways it had been easy to get up and find a new angle to look at the beautiful valley bellow.

Now Jaskiers gaze flicked back into the courtyard, squinting at Lambert, who was anxiously pacing back and forth, arms raising and falling as though he didn't know whether he should be ready to catch Jaskier or not.

"I climbed!"

"Why the fuck did you do that?"

That was a stupid question. Especially coming from Lambert, who loved to climb everything, especially the highest and most dangerous parts of the keep. Jaskiers very calculated, carefully executed stunt was nothing against the nerve wracking shit Lambert pulled.

"I wanted to sit here." Jaskier answered with a shrug, opting not to start a verbal fight with the youngest wolf. It was fun when you were in the mood for it, but Jaskier had rather wanted some peace and quiet. "Thought the view would be nice. And it is. Come up and see!"

Lambert narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, probably wondering if this was some sort of trap. But Jaskier could see the curious glint in his eyes and smiled in triumph when Lambert set about joining him.

Of course his dear Witcher friend didn't use the sensible way up that Jaskier had used. No the little monkey just straight up jumped at the wall and skittered to the top. He slid down a few times, whenever his hands decided not to work. And from the grunts and curses Jaskier could deduce that what already looked quite effortless to him, usually was even more graceful and fast.

But while it may have taken Lambert longer than before he still managed. Jaskier smiled at Lamberts proud look when he had managed to get to the top.

"Huh. The view is pretty neat up here."

Jaskier leaned into Lamberts shoulder with a giggle, proud that he let him do it without a fuss. Lambert didn't return the touch with anything more than the slight sagging of his shoulders, but that was better than what Geralt got most days so he counted it as a win.

"Told you."

"Jaskier, Lambert! What the fuck are you doing up there!" roared Vesemirs voice from courtyard.

~~~

Jaskiers newfound mobility to the Witchers was like having a baby that had suddenly developed the ability to crawl. Only much, much worse. Because in Jaskiers case the baby was in a crumbling castle full of dangerous passageways ready to collapse and bury unsuspecting victims, dark places full of secrets, potions and magic to accidently mess with and very high places to fall off of.

Hm, maybe they should leave the metaphors to the poet. The poor wording didn't deter from the horrible truth, though. And that was that everyone was distracted from whatever they were currently doing whenever the bard of the keep had vanished from sight.

More often than not one of them would halt in the middle of training to look around and start panicking when they couldn't see Jaskier anywhere.

Vesemir was getting a little sick of it. He hadn't been prepared for this. Jaskier had been quite the asset in keeping his boys in line since he had stumbled into the keep with them. But now it seemed like the tables had turned. His pups- pupils couldn't concentrate on footwork if they were constantly looking for the bard. And he too, unfortunately, had come to be driven to distraction by Jaskiers absence.

He couldn't help it. The boy made his wolves smile and behave, even if the methods he used were foreign and weird to Vesemir. He was a good human. A rarity among his kind. Vesemir wanted him to be safe.

And so they tended to cut training short to go search for the bard, oftentimes taking hours to find him. Sometimes not finding him at all.

"Geralt, you said he was a noble. Don't those usually stay put somewhere? Not walk around much?" Eskel asked, when they had once again regrouped in the kitchen after an unsuccessful hunt for the bard.

Geralt frowned at them and Vesemir was both amused and exasperated at the confusion clear on his star pupils face. "I thought so, too. He winters at Oxenfurt or court every year. It made sense to assume."

"Well obviously you assumed wrong." Lambert scoffed. He was bouncing on his heels, clearly eager to get back out and keep looking for their lost packmember.

"He let himself be carried around for weeks." Vesemir tried to derail a potential arguement. "It only makes sense that he has pent up energy to get rid off."

"Maybe we should tire him out more?" Eskel wondered out loud, glancing at the door and sniffing the air every once in a while. He was probably the most worried out of all of them. And he tended to hug Jaskier long and hard whenever he reappeared. Come to think of it maybe Vesemir should tell him to not do that anymore. It was positive reinforcement for bad behavior.

"Yeah Geralt, tire him out more." Lambert said with a nasty smirk on his face only to get a deadpan look from Geralt in return.

"I would if you two wouldn't come barging in all the time."

Lambert shrugged. "You could keep going, wouldn't bother us."

Vesemir cut off Geralts offended snarl. "Eskel has a point. I'm going to talk to him today when he comes back. Maybe some sword training would do him some good."

As it turned out, Jaskier hadn't been in the keep at all. He had taken a leisurely stroll around the fortress, even going so far as the watchtower, with not even a dagger to defend himself. If Vesemirs hair hadn't already been grey it surely would have turned as white as Geralts as he listened to Jaskier chatter on about the beauty of the surrounding forest.

That settled the matter in his mind, Jaskier obviously matched his pups – Melitele damn it – penchant for running head first into danger without realizing it. And while his students were well equipped to handle dangerous situations, Vesemir doubted that Jaskier was fit or trained enough to do so.

He would have to be kept busy and in line of sight for the forseeable future then. Which meant Vesemir would have to make him train and maybe also cook with him.

Jaskier wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea. He whined that he didn't like violence at all. A statement that made Geralt snort. But eventually caved under Vesemirs persistence and arguements.

He had thought it wouldn't take much to tire Jaskier out. Witcher training was harsh and took up many hours of the day when it wasn't just for refreshment. And sure Vesemir went easy on him, making him do the drills that he had taught the very young beginners of the keep when it had still overflowed with lost boys.

But, while the lad complained a whole fucking lot, he kept up and kept going. Vesemir watched, dumbfounded and fascinated, as Jaskier went through every training session and came out exhausted but not destroyed. All it took was a meal and an hour of rest and he was up and running again, a bundle of endless energy and curiousity that apparently couldn't be contained by mere sports alone.

So they started taking him out to walks. Really Geralt, Eskel and Lamberts somehow always were the most excited about that particular activity, heads snapping up whenever Vesemir or Jaskier suggested it. Although Jaskier wasn't far behind in his enthusiasm.

And Vesemir had to admit that the time spend strolling through the forest surrounding the keep was quite nice. It had been ages since he had wandered without a purpose, without some sort of destination in mind. And the company was good, too. Even if keeping Lambert from throwing bombs at beehives and stopping Geralt from picking every possible herb he saw was exhausting in its own right.

It seemed to be enough, at least. But it did make him wonder. Was it normal for a human Jaskiers age to have so much energy? Vesemir couldn't tell. All the men Jaskiers age that he had trained had undergone the trails at that point. And he didn't interact with humans for long enough to gather any experience.

It all went to a head one late morning. All four of his charges had been bickering and bantering throughout the whole training session, shouting out challenges and making fun of each other. Vesemir had let them play, watching from the sidelines and making a mental list of all the things he still had to correct them on.

He had frowned at Geralts too wide and powerful swing, the White Wolf battling with Eskel and nearly loosing his sword because of that move, when Jaskiers screech and Lamberts laughter caught his attention.

"Lambert! Let me down!" Jaskier yelled, his huge smile betraying his real feelings on the matter.

"I have to keep my back straight!"

Sure enough Lamberts back was as straight as could be, given that he had hoisted Jaskier up high over his head. He was wobbling a little. Enough to make Geralt and Eskel stop what they were doing and inch closer with worried frowns.

"It already was, you ass! Put me down!"

"Nope."

"I swear if you don't I'll be carrying you around for a day."

Lambert bounced Jaskier into the air with a cackle, easily catching him so he was nestled in his arms bridal style. The squeak Jaskier let out at being manhandled like that was utterly adorable, but Vesemir would never tell him that. From the way Eskel and Geralt smiled they thought so, too.

"I bet you couldn't even lift me up the way I am now."

Jaskier glared up at him. "Put me down and I'll show you."

"Jaskier-" Eskel cautioned as Lambert set him down.

"That's not a good idea." Geralt added, tone climbing higher and nearly ending in a whine.

"You'll break your back." Vesemir agreed.

Jaskier waved all their worries away. "Pfff. No trust in me. Lambert, come here."

Lambert stepped even closer to him, a smug smile gracing his face. Everyone anxiously watched Jaskier bending down and... lifting Lambert up. Their youngest wolf made a surprised little sound, wrapping his legs around Jaskier as the bard settled him securely on his hipbone like a mother would her toddler.

They were all staring at Jaskier with huge eyes as he even bounced Lambert a little and took a few steps, walking a little circle.

"See?" He said, panting a bit. "I can do it."

"Fuck." Lambert whispered, gazing down at Jaskier in awe. "But can you lift Geralt and Eskel as well?"

Jaskier scoffed, setting Lambert back down and shaking out his arms. "Of course!"

This time there was no hesitance or spoken out worries. Geralt got close as soon as Jaskier opened his arms and let out a quiet, impressed huff when Jaskier picked him up and cradled him to his chest.

It shouldn't have been so endearing to watch as his pup wrapped his arms around his mate and nuzzled into Jaskiers brown locks, small, excited little noises escaping his throat. Soon enough Geralt started to feel uncomfortable, though. Vesemir could tell from the twitching and squirming and Jaskier gently let him down as well, getting a quick hug and a kiss to the cheek as thanks.

Eskel was still wary, but he still came when Jaskier called. "Are you sure? I'm heavier than them."

Jaskier gifted him with a soft smile. "Very sure. Trust me."

Vesemir didn't think that Jaskier understood the weight of his demand, nor the utter miracle that was Eskel going along with it. But Vesemir did and it made a lump form in his throat. If he still had the ability to cry, maybe he would have right that moment.

As it was he could only stare, overcome and paralyized with emotion, as Jaskier knelt to get his arms under Eskel thighs and hoisted him up with a grunt. Eskel scrambled to wind his legs around Jaskier, hands flying everywhere as they looked for somewhere to hold on to. He ended up awkwardly squashing Jaskiers head into his chest, blinking rapidedly, probably to try and see if he wasn't hallucinating it all.

Lambert cheered and clapped, while Geralt smiled, something like pride shining in those warm golden eyes.

Eskel ruffled through Jaskiers hair. "Alright songbird, you can let me back down now."

"Okay." came the muffled replay.

As soon as Eskel stood on his own two feet again he scooped Jaskier up and pressed him to his chest, rubbing his nose against Jaskiers.

"Much better." he sighed.

Lambert nodded. "Yeah. No offence, Jask. Being carried around while in wolf form was nice, but like this it's just kinda awkward."

"Hm." Geralt agreed, coming over to nose at his squirming mate.

Vesemir shook his head at them, thoughts racing. He was impressed, but also utterly confused. Was a human Jaskiers size supposed to be able to do that?

"Vesemir! Should I try to lift you up, too?"

Vesemir swatted Jaskiers hands away with a frown that quickly morphed into a smile. Jaskier was still using Eskels arms as a hammock, mischief shining in his eyes.

"Hands off, bard. Don't even think about it."

As it was, training got cut short again that day. Vesemir sighed at that. He was going soft in his old age. Ah well. He'll just have to train them harder tomorrow. ___

Forgot to posts this here XD @batmanzplan @aj-that-person

#the witcher #jaskier #vesemir #geralt #eskel #lambert #kaer mohren #fluff #herdingwolves #geralt of rivia #humor #fanfiction #geraskier #my writing #seraswriting #buff jaskier

[seralyra]

Jaskier the Pack Alpha

Herding Wolves Intermission Drabbles Part: 1

Prompt(s) from @FreelanceroftheTriforceKeyblade and @NatsumiKirklandJones (AO3): Vesemir reacting to Jaskier calling his pups nicknames and corraling them around. ___

Vesemir was warming up in the courtyard, alone despite the late hour of the day. For once he didn‘t begrudge his sons their tardiness. He had seen them struggle to adjust, behavior still more wolfish than human. It wasn‘t as bad as after the trials. Back then it had been painful to watch them stumble around, where now it was almost comical at times.

With a fluid motion he went through a series of complicated steps, careful to swing his arms in a fitting manner paralleling his footwork. Training alone was not optimal, even for a grandmaster such as himself. But he needed the training as much as his students and he had to make due with what he had.

It also helped him to think, mind focussing on the problems at hand while his body was distracted.

The year hadn‘t exactly started in an optimal manner. Vesemir had only still been at the keep because a sudden storm had left some damage that had to be repaired before he could set out. And now Geralt, Eskel and Lambert were back, too, unable to do their job in the state they were in now.

And then there was the bard. Jaskier worried him. He had encountered many curious souls in his time. Not everyone was as averse to Witchers as the general population would like you to belief. But meeting a human so young, willing to risk his life for their kind? He had never heard of such a thing before.

And that was only the start of the oddities. Vesemir still needed to parse out what sort of relationship that Jaskier fellow had with his sons. Vesemir had never seen them this bashful and shy before, especially not Lambert.

Vesemir didn‘t belief half of the things Jaskier told him at the dinner table two days ago. Bards were spiteful creatures and his sons had definitely angered him. It was only natural for Jaskier to want to embarass them a little. Vesemir even approved of it.

And yet, this made it much harder to seperate lie from truth. What had really happened in the time his sons had been gone?

An indignant shriek from the entrance to the courtyard made Vesemir stop in his tracks. There, running down the steps, cackling like mad, was Lambert, Jaskier thrown over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.

"Lambert!"

His bellow was enough to stop his pupil in his tracks, Jaskier squirming in Lamberts hold before throwing an arm around the mans shoulder and sagging against him with a pout. Blue eyes darted over to Vesemir and he got a sheepish grin and a small wave as a greeting.

Vesemir was close to stomping over to see if the bard was alright. His ankle wasn‘t fully healed yet and especially Lambert often forgot about other peoples injuries when he got playful like this. At least he was standing up straighter.

"What are you doing with the bard?"

"I‘m training." Lambert answered, the picture of innocence.

"No he‘s not. Lambert let me down. Now."

Vesemirs eyebrows rose up to his hairline. What was the human thinking? Trying to order Lambert of all people around like this. Even if his commandeering tone was quite good, Vesemir knew from experience that no one could-

Lambert sat him down, careful to keep a hand on Jaskiers hip to stabilize him as he set his injured foot on the ground.

Jaskier sniffed at him. "Bad puppy."

Time seemed to freeze. Vesemir wondered if his hearing had become worse in his old age. He couldn‘t have heard that right. And if he had he should probably act fast before the human lost his head.

Lambert and Jaskier, in the meantime, stared at each other, just as shocked, especially after Lambert accidently let out an answering, unhappy whine. They shuffled awkwardly, Jaskier blushing and Lambert clearing his throat as though that would help him regain control of his vocal cords.

"That‘s unfair." He began, obviously trying very hard not to let out another whine or, gods forbid, start growling. "You picked us up and carried us around all the time."

This couldn‘t be real. Vesemir must have fallen down trying to repair the roof and was now in some sort of fever dream. There was no other logical explanation.

The blush on Jaskiers cheeks spread out further, down his neck. Vesemir would need to find him better clothes. Spring was still part of the cold season up in the mountains. He would catch another cold.

"Well yes… I… My apologies." Another shuffle and a hiss as Jaskier accidently put too much pressure on his injury.

"It's fine." The next part was muttered so quietly that Vesemir had to strain his ears to catch it. "It'was nice..."

The shy smile Jaskier gifted Lambert made something in Vesemirs stomach coil tight. Or maybe it was the answering grin his usually so prickly youngest son send back. He had to turn away when Jaskier petted, petted (Meliteles righ tit what had the world come to?) Lambert on the head.

Unfortunately he had yet to find a way to shut his ears off. As if the way his pupils had tried to scent mark the bard hadn't been weird enough, the happy whine Lambert let loose at the contact made Vesemir think of a litter of puppies.

"I'm glad. Now didn't you want to train, Puppy."

Again with that nickname! And even Jaskier sounded reluctant to use it so freely, it coming out half teasing half whispered as though it was part of a conspiracy.

There was a playful growl and Vesemir quickly picked up the sword that had slipped through his grip at one point, busying himself with drills. He would have fled the courtyard minutes ago had his pride allowed it.

"Be happy you're still injured, Lark."

There was a rustle of clothing – don't look, don't look – and another playfully furious squeak from the bard. Someone slapped someone else and then Lambert trodded over to him, his arms moving as though they wanted to be used for walking as well.

Vesemir stopped what he was doing and let him approach, watching the motions of his youngest pu-, student. At least Lambert wasn't panting anymore. That had been weird.

"So you want to train?"

He received a nod. Something in him settled then. Yes, this is what he was used to. This he could do. It was a relief that, even when the world didn't make much sense anymore, he still had his role as mentor to cling to.

"Fine. We'll work at your posture. Stand up straight! Arms down, they are not paws anymore. Don't slump over! And stop sniffing the air like a bloody hound Jaskier is right over there, he's fine. Lambert! Focus!"

Right. The joy of being a mentor...

~~~

Eskel had always been the brightest one of the lot. Sure Geralt was the star pupil in every aspect, but he was also a snowflake. And Vesemir didn't only call him that in his head because of the white hair.

Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde. Really. The boy had always had a flair for the dramatic. Even when he had let the world get to him and gone silent he had done so with a passion most poets didn‘t possess.

While Geralt had been much in every aspect, Eskel was sedate. Sure he had a dirty core. Vesemir still disapproved of the Fisstech stunt. And his charge had gotten in quite some trouble as a child as well, mostly because Eskel and Geralt together were a horrible mix of good and bad ideas.

But the thing was that Eskel was cautious and wary in all the right ways. He had manners where the others had none and he knew how to use his words.

Which is why, out of all of them, Vesemir had thought him to be immune to the craziness that had obviously befallen Geralt and Lambert.

He had been wrong.

This was proven to him that same night. They were all set in the library, Jaskier inhabiting Vesemirs usual place in front of the hearth, his injured foot elevated by another cushioned chair. Vesemirs sons had looked at him funny when Vesemir had offered his seat up to Jaskier, but he had only huffed at them.

What did they think he was, a monster? The boy was injured and still recovering from a bad cold. He was young and human and he had seemingly given his all to protect his sons while they were at their most vulnerable. Of course he would give him some privileges as long as he wasn‘t back to full health yet.

So Jaskier sat closest to the fire, Geralt close by on a rug, with a book in his hand. He too was still favouring the ground to higher places such as benches and chairs. Lambert was spread out in front of him, close enough to touch, snoring softly.

Vesemir had reclined on the only couch, watching the three with barely open eyes, feigning sleep and waiting for the fourth member to arrive.

He didn‘t need to wait long. Eskel emerged from the darkness of the hallway, done with cleaning up the kitchen. He surveyed the scene for a moment, taking in the placement of each of his brothers and taking a cautious glance at Vesemir before truly moving into the room.

He steered over to Jaskier, who looked up to him with curious eyes.

"May I?"

Vesemir didn‘t know what Eskel was asking for, but Jaskier seemed to understand.

"Of course, go ahead."

Vesemir had to force himself to remain "asleep" as Eskel bend down and settled between Jaskiers legs, back to him so his front could be warmed by the fire. After a moment of hesitation he even cushioned his head on one of Jaskiers thighs, letting out a content sigh.

The room was quiet, only Lamberts snores, the crackle of the fire and Geralt occasionally turning a page filling the air. It should have been relaxing, but Vesemirs half lidded gaze was fixed on Jaskier and Eskel. Especially Jaskiers hand, that kept twitching forward until long fingers touched one loose strand of dark brown hair.

Eskel couldn‘t have felt much, but he leaned into it nonetheless. It was all the approval Jaskier needed to start massaging Eskels scalp.

"Your hair really is as fluffy as your fur had been." Jaskier whispered excitedly.

A book was closed with a snap just as Eskel made a content rumble, which got lost in Geralts growl.

Before Geralt could start anything, though, Jaskiers sharp voice cut through the quiet. "Geralt, down! Don‘t you dare do anything to wake Vesemir or Lambert. Come here if you want pets, but if not let Eskel enjoy himself."

Despite Jaskier having whispered his command it held all the authority of a hardened general. Vesemir wondered where the bard had learned to talk like that. He himself had needed years to perfect his gruff mentor voice.

He was even more impressed when Geralt listened. Sure he gave a derisive snort, but he stayed down, mulling over his options before inching closer to Jaskier. He made himself comfortable next to Eskel, shoving him a bit as he got comfortable, which got him a cuff on the head and a disapproving noise from Jaskier.

But then his hair was played with, too and Vesemir watched part horrified and part in awe as both of his sons turned to putty in the bards hands.

Witchcraft. This had to be witchcraft.

Vesemir really needed to have a talk with Jaskier when the others were busy. Maybe the two of them could compare notes on how to handle these unruly children.

___

A/N: The drabbles are loosely sorted into what could be called a chronology, because it seems I can't write drabbles for shit without at least a sprinkle of plot.

If you have a prompt or suggestion feel free to send me an ask or comment/reblog~

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #kaer morhen #herdingwolves #vesemir #witcher wolf pack #curse recovery #fluff #humor #seraswriting #my writing #fanfiction

[seralyra]

Confused Hierarchies (+Feral Jaskier)

Packbuilding Part 8

A/N: This got a little bit dark. Please tell me if I should add some warnings in the tags. (Discussion about canon era violence)

___

Buttering up Vesemir was harder than expected. Geralts old mentor was sharp witted and immediately noticed that Jaskier was trying something even if he didn't exactly know what. Jaskier finally understood where Geralt got his specific brand of teasing from. As soon as Vesemir saw that Jaskier was working towards a certain outcome he made it nearly impossible for him to talk to without wanting to bite his nails off in frustration.

All conversations they now had were an intricate dance of push and pull, with Jaskier trying to compliment Vesemir with words and actions and Vesemir getting more and more creative in the ways he could turn those things on Jaskier.

The old man was probably trying to teach him a lesson here, but Jaskier had no clue what it was supposed to be. He was just trying to be a good guest! And get them all into Vesemirs bed.

"Vesemir! I got you a pillow for your back." Jaskier trying to be nice and caring once again, patted Vesemirs favourite armchair in the library, now furnished with the fluffiest pillow he had been able to find.

Vesemir, who had just come up from the kitchen, stared at the offered seat, then at his pups, who were launching all over the place. The hearth was empty and cold today, the weather hot enough to even warm the stony halls of the keep enough to leave the fire out until the late afternoon.

"I'm not that old yet, bard. You take the seat, I saw you limping earlier this morning. The cushion will do you good."

Jaskier huffed, not embarassed in the slightest. He ignored the whistle from Lambert and obediently sat in the armchair, legs brought up to be used as a headrest. Vesemir scowled at him for it, but Jaskier didn't move an inch. If Vesemir was acting difficult so could Jaskier.

They stared at each other for a long while, watched with growing dread by their pack. Geralt dared to inch closer to his mate, ready to defend him should the need arise. But no such thing came to be necessary. Eye contact was broken without a word and Vesemir stomped over to the couch, settling down beside Eskel.

Jaskier nestled deeper into the cushioned chair and reached for the book that had been left on the little table beside it. Careful not to displace the bookmark in it he began to read. Or at least he tried to. His packmates were so tense he could see their coiled muscles twitch. They were waiting. For what Jaskier wasn't sure, but it couldn't have been anything good.

Always urged to make his pack feel safe and sound Jaskier started to hum to fill the silence. Fraction by fraction his wolves relaxed, until they finally dared to move again. Eskel got up to get the alcohol, Lambert grabbed his Gwent deck and waved it at Geralt with a raised brow. Soon enough the room was full of noise again and Jaskiers focus could drift to the words on the tattered pages.

Half his focus, really. He kept an eye on his Witchers at all times. He didn't quite know when he had developed that particular habit. Jaskier understood that he was probably the weakest of the bunch and in no way qualified to protect any of them. And there was no need for any protectiveness to rise up here in their home where no one could harm them.

Illogical as his actions were Jaskier couldn't help himself. He saw the way Eskel fumbled with the cork, hand shaking a little as he poured them all tankards of ale. He watched Geralt hunch over more and more until he was bend over his cards in a painfully unnatural way. All the little ways his friends and mate were still vulnerable, might need assistance.

But he also saw sure fingers grabbing at cards, Eskels fluid walk as he distributed the alcohol among them. Jaskier heard the quips and flowing sentences they all used now. His wolves had come a long way. They were able to hold swords again and take stairs on two legs.

The tenseness in the air never fully dispersed, but there was nothing much Jaskier could do about that. He could only hold them close later, when they all bedded down for the night, offering comfort in a short pre-cuddle before they went off in pairs to sleep.

And they crowded close, closer than they had in a long time. But remained frustratingly tight lipped when Jaskier asked them what caused their distress. They only hugged him tighter. That night Geralt lay down between Jaskier and the door. Something he only ever did out in that dangerous, hostile world they had to roam during hunting season.

~~~

Mornings were always the same now. Crafted into a peaceful routine where bleary eyed Witchers dragged themselves into the kitchen to greet whatever poor soul had been on kitchen duty that day and sat down to nearly fall back asleep over their bowls of porridge. Jaskier would come down a few beats later most days, if inspiration hadn't struck him somewhere in the early hours and he was already up and running around the keep like a child doped high on sugar.

The peaceful part of the morning vanished as soon as they entered the courtyard, though. At the very least. (If something didn't already happen at the breakfast table.) Nothing got your blood pumping like a good workout. And despite his initial grumbling Jaskier enjoyed this part of the day.

He enjoyed going through the motions of a sword fight, the different forms, the questioning and answering moves feeling like a very violent dance. Jaskier doubted he'd ever use his new skills on a living person if he could help it. But the drills worked wonders in getting the nervous energy out and keeping him fit.

Unfortunately he was about the only one who enjoyed training these days. His pack was an impatient bunch, most of all the old grumpy wolf who couldn't accept his soft advances. Jokes more often than not turned to snarled remarks, playful banter into heated arguements and shouting matches.

Brawls had happened less and less with both Jaskier and Vesemir watching them closely and interferring before things got too violent. But it still wasn't a pretty sight.

And Jaskier understood. He had seen Geralts fighting style before, graceful, full of spins and twists and elegant, lightning fast maneuvers with his swords. There was not much left of that anymore. Despite weeks of constant training all of them still lacked the motor skills to turn their swings into something more controlled. They were fast and brutal as ever, but they lacked the finesse that made them so different from normal fighters.

"That's enough! We've been through all this a dozen times already. You're not trying to hack a deer apart! Control your movements already, technique over speed. You're absolutely useless like this!"

Jaskier froze mid swing at Vesemirs angry shouting, something hot and ugly crawling up his stomach and into his throat, pulling at the corners of his lips and tightning the grip on his sword. He whirled around, away from the dummy he had been hacking away at, to see his pack. His dear friends and his mate were deflating right before his eyes. Lambert looked about ready to burst, face twisting into a grimace of rage. Eskel sighed resigned, shifting to stand with his arms crossed. And Geralt... Geralt wore the same expression he did whenever they had to venture through a village that welcomed them with stones and slurs. A brave mask to hide the hurt underneath.

Weeks of steady progress, not only with getting them back on their feet and comfortable in their own skin again. But also with showing them that they were lovable in any shape. Destroyed.

He could see their hearts break, self loathing and doubts shooting back up out of the darkest corners of their minds. They were so quiet, looked so small and dejected despite their considerable bulk.

Jaskier snarled. A loud, vicious noise that cut through the hazy morning air. Inhuman. Dangerous. Immediately all heads turned to him. But Jaskier didn't notice, his only focus on Vesemir, whom he approached with sharp, jerky steps.

"How dare you call them that after everything they've been through!"

Vesemirs eyes narrowed, his stance widening as if preparing for an attack. He too still held his sword, not yet poised to fight, but certainly at the ready. "I'm making a point, Jaskier. I've trained hundreds of boys. I know what I'm doing."

"If this is how you treated all of them than you trained hundreds of boys wrong." Jaskier growled, stopping his advances a few paces away, out of sword reach, but one step could change that.

Jaskier well knew the expression that graced Vesemirs face at that. He had seen it on Geralt enough times. Nostrils flaring, pupils narrowing into slits, teeth bared. Nothing was left of the soft old man with the round red nose. Someone who could have been Jaskiers grandfather. In his stead stood a hardened soldier, a killer, monster hunter and teacher of the old school. Jaskier knew those. He had encountered them aplenty in his temple school. Where literacy had been beaten into him until the words bled from his fingers onto the page without a mistake.

Men like these meant well, but Jaskier knew what damage they unintentionally wrought. Personally he had never laid a hand on his students. And they thanked him for it with unbridled adoration and trust.

He wanted that for his pack. Wanted for them to have enough confidence to deflect all the hurt the world threw at them outside these walls. He lifted his sword, shuffled his feet into position and stared right back, fierce and unmoving.

"You know nothing, bard. Your softness" Weakness Jaskier heard. "has no place here."

You have no place here. Vesemir hadn't said that and yet those words rang in Jaskiers mind, an ever present threat. It only drove him on. If he should not be welcomed back after this, if he would never find out what it would feel like to be curled up in Vesemirs bed with his dearest friends and mate, then so be it. Jaskier would protect his pack at all costs.

"Strike at me and you'll see my softness does not make me weak."

"Jaskier." Geralt, Eskel and Lambert had slowly approached them, hands up, desperate to grasp and pull and protect.

Both Vesemir and Jaskier turned on them. "Don't interfere!"

They flinched back as one, but before Lamberts anger could ignite at the harsh dismissal Jaskier added in a softer tone. "Please, we'll only be a minute. Go wash up, I'll join you in a bit."

They hesitated, of course they hesitated. Geralt even dared a step forward. "Jaskier?"

Jaskier shook his head. "It's alright, love. Just a spat." His calm tone did the trick. Anxiously looking from Vesemir to Jaskier they retreated back into the keep.

Only when they were fully out of sight did Jaskier turn back to Vesemir and rose the tip of his sword in invitation. There was no swing of the blade to start the fight, though. Instead Vesemir shifted into a full defensive stance and tilted his head, waiting.

For a few tense moments neither of them moved.

"You're doing more harm than good showering them with your false positivity."

The end of that sentence was punctuated by the clash of steel as Jaskier dove foward in a stabbing motion and twisted into a spin as Vesemir tried to parry. His swing was dodged and answered with a thrust so quick Jaskier only barely managed to deflect it.

He jumped back a few steps and they started to circle each other, both looking for gaps in the others defense.

"My positivity isn't false. They got so much better and they're beating themselves up enough. Why are you all so impatient?"

Vesemir faked an attack to bait Jaskier into raising his sword only to roll around him to slice at his back. Jaskier arched his spine and bend his knees to avoid having his back cut open, letting gravity do the rest and pull him down. Rolling to the side he slashed at Vesemirs boots before using his free arm and toes to push himself back up.

They twirled around each other several times, Jaskier getting dizzy with the motion, until Vesemir pinned him in place with a particularly heavy swing from above, keeping the pressure high when Jaskier blocked, trying to force him to his knees with sheer strength alone.

"It's close to summer and here we are still at the keep. We are monster hunters Jaskier, we should be outside, roaming the continent. They are already so view of us left, we can't just not do what we were made for. But I can't let them out like this! Don't you understand? They'll get themselves killed if they aren't better."

Taking a sidestep Jaskier let Vesemirs sword glide along his own, freeing himself from the stance Vesemir had locked him into. His kneecaps popped painfully as he straightened, arms already trembling from the unfamiliar strain. Vesemir wasn't fucking around.

"I understand." He got out before having to leap to the side to avoid another hit. The tip nicked his shirt and thankfully nothing else. He probably should have blocked that with his blade, but he just needed a little breather until his arms weren't on fire anymore.

He was glad when Vesemir retreated again, giving him time to get his bearings, to try and get enough air back into his lungs, to say what he had on his mind.

"But pushing them until they fall won't make them better. They're already ambitious and self loathing enough, they don't need you to put them down too."

They moved again, one step forward, two steps back, spin and slash and parry, parry, parry and dodge. Vesemirs swings kept coming, effortlessly hailing down on Jaskier. The old mentors movements looked calm and yet they were fast and brutal, the blade coming down in wide arcs and drawing circles in the air.

Jaskier could barely keep up even though he knew Vesemir was most likely preoccupied thinking over what he had been told just now.

His body felt like overheating, the early morning sun climbing higher and higher and burning everything her rays touched as she went. He tried to get out of range again, twisted under one of the deadly slashes and rolled out of the way of a stab.

Turning his back to his opponent he sprinted a few paces away and jumped onto one of the lower walls.

When he came to face Vesemir again he was just pulling the tip of his sword back out of the dirt. "You don't know what you are talking about."

"I'm a professor at Oxenfurt in the winter months. I know a thing or too about teaching kids. And I was a student myself once. Not too long ago."

Vesemir scoffed and advanced on him again. Jaskier tensed up as he grew nearer, instinct telling him to run. This was no man coming to beat him up, this was a predator preparing to go for the kill.

He kept were he was. He would make his point.

"You taught stuffed up, arrogant, wealthy little brats how to write pretty words and spin lies from half truths. I've had to prepare small lost boys for an often painful death. You may teach your entitled students how you want. It can't be compared to what I have to do to make sure they survive."

At the end of his sentence Vesemir had closed the distance between them again, eyes gleaming in the golden sunlight. "And one more thing. Seeking higher ground on a crumbling wall? Bad idea."

Jaskier jumped to avoid having his feet cut off, tried to regain his footing an uneven, shaky stone and yelped when a hand shot out to grab his ankle. He was pulled off and squeezed his eyes shut to brace for the impact, head on stone was never a pleasant meeting.

But here too Vesemir was fast. The hand that had grabbed his ankle took hold of his shirt and dragged him up until Jaskier could get his feet under him again. They spun around once more and Jaskier was pushed back, stumbling through a series of halfhearted blows from Vesemir, easy enough to dodge even while being disorientated as he was.

Jaskier could barely make the words leave his lips through his heavy panting. "You're wrong again. Sure I've met quite a number of priveleged dicks and young people with comfortable lifes. But I've also dealt with many lost souls. I've taught much more than just music and poetry and to students with just as grim of a future. I've sent female bards, young and pretty and oh so passionate, out into the world, steeling them for the possibility of assault and rape. I've seen my fair share of suicides and duels to the death, lifes lost over false honours drilled into moldable heads from the earliest of ages. I've helped young men through breakdowns when the pressure of being perfect all the time became too much. Aided women in hiding the bruises of abusive lovers or a night gone wrong, worrying more about their appearance than their injuries. In the cold winter months how many do you think overdosed on Fisstech and other drugs? Just to get over the exam periods, to keep up, to be better."

It was Jaskier who advanced now, old fury fuelling his movements. His assault wasn't even coming close to the coordinated and beautiful choreography Vesemirs had been, but what it lacked in finesse it made up for with passion.

"I've only been a mentor for a few years and never full time. But I know. I feel your pain."

A slight mistep was enough. He swung too hard, lost his balance and found Vesemirs sword at his throat, his own knocked out of his hand with a bare hand.

Jaskier heaved breath after breath into his lungs and straightened to look Vesemir in the eyes, the blade following his movements with a fluid motion.

"Until first blood?" Jaskier guessed, but Vesemir only scoffed and tucked his sword back into its sheath.

"Don't be daft. I'll draw even a single drop of blood and the pups will never let me hear the end of it."

Not an ounce of energy left Jaskier crumbled to the floor with a groan and rubbed his sweaty hair out of his face. He kept his eyes closed for a while, trying to get his breathing back under control and hoped the world would stop spinning any time soon.

He startled when a water flask was shoved in his face. Vesemir offered him a hand up. "Come on don't sit there you'll make yourself sick. Walk it off, slowly, take tiny sips."

Standing up on legs that wanted nothing more than to cave in Jaskier did as he was told and walked up and down until his body didn't revolt anymore. The pains of the fight bloomed in the wake of exhaustion, a crawling backdrop to his racing mind.

"Vesemir-"

"Go wash up, the pups are probably already whining because you missed their grooming session."

Jaskier didn't move from the spot that he had been frozen to. He fidgeted with his water skin taking a sip to bridge over the silence. He wanted to ask Vesemir if they were still alright, but all his bravery had fled with his rage.

And nothing else came from Vesemir. Geralts old mentor turned from him, aiming for where Jaskier knew to be the armory. Only when Jaskier was left alone in the courtyard did he move, grasping the waterskin like a lifeline.

The stone walls of the keep welcomed him with a breeze of cool air and shadows to shield him from the sun. And only a few corridors away they held the love and comfort he needed. Geralt awaited him in their room, a steaming tub smelling faintly of lavender and lemon grass standing at the ready.

Jaskier stepped around it and fell into Geralts awaiting arms. "I'm sorry I blew it."

Tears prickled against his closed lids, banging against the skin when Geralt kissed the crown of his head in reply.

"You didn't."

"It's just, he was being mean to you and you're already trying so hard-"

"Shhh. It's alright. Lambert has yelled much worse things at him. It'll be fine."

He was guided out of his clothes and into the tub, the one being bathed for once. The heat was lovely, coaxing his overly tensed muscles to uncoil. Sword calloused hands carefully massaged his skull, spreading his favourite oil into his hair, gently wiping away the tears that finally had gotten permission to fall.

"Are the others mad?"

There was no pause in the steady kneeding. "No."

"Why aren't they here then?"

"We didn't want to overwhelm you."

"Will they come back later?"

Hands shifted from his head to his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing at the flesh underneath fragile skin. Jaskier leaned back and closed his eyes with a sigh, trusting his mate to hold him up.

"If you want them to."

"I do. They must be-"

"They're fine, Jask. It's you we're worried about."

"I'm fine."

"Hm."

It didn't sound convinced. Jaskier couldn't fault him for that. He wasn't quite sure of the truth of his statement either.

~~~

The days following their fight Jaskier did his best to be a good inhabitant of the keep to make up for the way he had disrespected Vesemir. But much like his former techniques to coerce Vesemir into opening up his bed for communal cuddles his behavior was dismissed.

Jaskier didn't know what to do. And neither, it seemed did his pack, which had also started to act weird. Or, well, weirder.

"Eskel dear heart, could you bring me that wheel of cheese from the pantry? The small one."

"Eskel could you pass me the salt."

Vesemir and Jaskier said at the same time. They were preparing dinner together, with Eskel helping while Lambert probably destroyed Geralt at Gwent a few rooms away. Eskel stopped cutting the vegetables to move to the pantry, only to halt in his steps when Vesemir started speaking, overlapping Jaskiers command.

Jaskier barely heard it, but he was sure Eskel let out a confused whine. His gaze darted from Jaskier to Vesemir, fingers twitching and brows furrowed.

"I'll get the salt." Jaskier soothed him and moved to do just that.

Only when Eskel was sure that no objection would come from Vesemir did he leave, but he stayed tense the whole evening.

"Geraaalt, darling stop your brooding and come here." Jaskier made grabby hands from his perch on Vesemirs favourite armchair, one evening a few days later.

Geralt had just lost his grooming privileges for Eskel to Lambert, this time over a bet and he had been glaring at the stone tiles ever since. Jaskier got some incoherent grumbling in reply, which he correctly translated into "I'm not brooding."

"Darling, love of my life, my light in the dark, drag your pretty ass over here and let me pet you."

His mate huffed, ignoring Lamberts gagging noises and Eskels chuckles. He was about to do as he was told when he realized where exactly Jaskier was sitting. His eyes widened a tiny fraction and immediately searched for Vesemir.

He found him reclined on the sofa, not giving an inch to Eskel and Lambert, who had taken to sitting on the floor, pillows and furs cushioning their improvised seats. Eskel stopped chuckling when he realized what was happening and Lambert turned quiet as well.

Three heads turned to Vesemir and for an agonizing eternity the only thing that occasionally could be heard was the rustle of a page being turned as their old mentor kept on reading. Jaskier leaned back to watch them wondering what all the fuss was about.

He had been sitting in this chair since he had come here? What was the big deal?

Eventually even Vesemir wasn't able to ignore the intense staring anymore. "What is it?"

Jaskier had no idea what was happening. Geralt didn't speak just... kept staring, only in a slightly different manner. And Vesemir just sighed and nodded before getting back to his book. Only then did Geralt come to him, crouched down and placed his head on Jaskiers lab.

He was hesitant though. Shoulders raised up to his ears and head only touching Jaskiers thigh the barest minimum. The first time Jaskier raked his fingers through his strands Geralt tensed. So Jaskier repeated the motion, slow and sure and started humming, which he had found was a sure fire way to calm his packmates down without disturbing Vesemirs reading.

And calm down they did, eventually, after an hour or so of aimless humming and petting. Jaskier didn't, though. He only started to fret.

Everything became clear one day when Jaskier spend an afternoon with Lambert mending clothes and armour. For some reason Jaskier had gotten all the leather pieces and was breaking his fingers trying to get the needle through it. Hadn't the stuff already been black there would have been blood stains visible he was sure.

"Laaambert. Can't we switch? You do the leather I do the shirts and pants? I can't do this anymore."

Lambert quickly glanced over to him, sniffed the air and wrinkled his forehead at the stench of blood. Mumbling something he went back to his own mending, shoulders starting to hunch.

Jaskier stopped what he was doing to fully turn towards Lambert. "What was that darling?"

"I can't... Vesemir said I should do the shirts."

Something clicked then and Jaskier could have smacked his head at the revelation. It had been so obvious!

"Did he say you couldn't do the leather, though? He never said I should do your armour, did he? And it would be faster that way."

Lambert scrunched up his face and then, ever the rebellious one, dumped the pile of soft fabric on Jaskiers side and took Jaskiers heap.

"You're right. You're shit at this anyway, better someone with actual skill do this."

"Hey for someone who never once stuffed a hole in his life I'm damn good!"

"You sure you never stuffed a hole before?"

Jaskier fake gagged at the downright dirty implication and Lamberts waggling eyebrows. "Not like that you pervert!"

"Sure, sure bird man."

"Oh fuck you."

"Don't, Geralt would have my head. Although I'm sure I'd be the better lay."

They continued to banter back and forth, Jaskier pricking his fingers many more times until their duty was done and they could join the others for dinner. All the while Jaskier thoughts were racing. He needed to talk with Vesemir.

The wolves caught wind of his rising nervousness fast. Dinner was a quiet affair because of it, everyone glancing at everybody with Vesemir ignoring them all. Jaskier resisted his pack as they tried to drag him off to their room.

"I'll be with you in a bit, don't worry. There's just something I need to talk to with Vesemir about."

This only seemed to make the Witchers more distressed. "Should we come with you?"

"What is it?"

"Do you want us to hide the body instead?"

Jaskier huffed out a laugh. "I'll be fine. There's no body to hide Lambert and it's something I'd rather discuss with Vesemir in private, Eskel."

They didn't like his decision he could tell, but another shooing motion made them leave. Jaskier shook his head at them. "Overprotective bunch."

"As if you are any better."

Jaskier jumped about a foot in the air. "Vesemir!"

Yellow eyes treated him to an unimpressed stare. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes uhm..."

"Come on then."

Vesemir turned and stomped off. Jaskier scrambled to go after him, digging his fingers into the fabric of his sleeves and rubbing it anxiously between thumb and index finger. Stepping into Vesemirs room felt like an intrusion this time around. It was similar to the feeling he always had when he had to step into his parents room. It left him with dread churning in his gut and the fear of punishment telling his feet to move in the opposite direction.

"Close the door behind you and for gods sake stop looking like I'm about to put my belt to you. You wanted to talk to me. This is where we usually talk. Sit."

A cup of hot tea was shoved under his nose. Vesemir always had a kettle on his hearth, seemingly always in need of something to calm his nerves. Given the people that inhabited the keep Jaskier could well understand the necessity of it.

"Thank you." Jaskier stuttered, his fingers curling around the warm pottery. He jumped a little when Vesemir put a hand on his shoulder as he walked by. But settled fast with the reassuring squeeze he got.

Vesemir sat down opposite him with his own cup, the chair creaking as he leaned back. "What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

He sounded as wary as Jaskier felt. "I wanted to talk about how we've been handling things." He gnawed at his lips and then took a sip to give himself more time to arrange the words in his mind. He had the suspicion (fear) that Vesemir would throw him out should he say the wrong thing. Offend the guardian of the keep somehow. Again.

"You must have noticed." He continued, licking his lips instead of making himself bleed. "The way Geralt, Eskel and Lambert behave sometimes, even more so since we had our little disagreement. I think they are confused somehow. They want to please us both for some reason and they are distressed whenever we give them orders that don't align or well I'm not sure about the chair thing."

That got him a snort, but Vesemir didn't care to clue him into the joke. "Hmmm. I noticed yes."

Jaskier waited for him to elaborate. To do anything else other than confirm what he already knew. Nothing came. There was just Vesemir staring into his tea. Hadn't it been for the occasional uneven breath Jaskier would have thought he had fallen asleep with open eyes.

"I'd... like to do something about it. I know you're probably still annoyed at me for interfering. But-"

"Will you let me think in peace, bard?"

"Yes, of course. Sorry."

Vesemir huffed. "If you need something to do go and get that hooch Lambert always hides away. We'll need it. Get your writing things too. And tell those worrywards you'll be a while."

"What are we going to do exactly?" Jaskier asked, hesitating at the door.

Vesemir looked up at him and gave him a wolfish smile. "Get drunk and figure out what to do with our pups. A bit of new age academics might mix well with my old wisdom."

Jaskier beamed back at him. "Brilliant! You know they love you though, right? You'll always stay their father?"

A stray nut bounced from his forehead. "Don't go all sentimental on me. I know. Now move your ass."

"Yes sir!"

Jaskier ran down the corridor, eager to execute Vesemirs command, a spring in his step that had been missing for a while. Maybe he hadn't messed up everything yet. Maybe he could still be a legitimate part of this family.

___

@batmanzplan @aj-that-person

#the witcher #geraskier #vesemir #jaskier #kaer morhen #herdingwolves #my writing #seraswriting

[seralyra]

Exchanged Stories

Packbuilding Part 7

A/N: Forgot to post this here. This is gonna be a long one. ____

Jaskier enjoyed himself immensely. Never had he fit in anywhere as well as in Kaer Morhen. It was a heady feeling, a kind of security he hadn't known before. The Path had come close. Travelling with Geralt had felt almost like acceptance. But even back then Jaskier had sometimes worried given Geralts stoic demeanor.

Nothing was really stoic about his mate now. He was still himself, of course. He stayed quiet, using his words only when he had to and with the precision of a doctor wielding his scalpel at an operating table. He still had his edges, liked to tease and banter and was still a terrible hoarder.

But he was free in giving his affection now. To all of them. Jaskier had worried at first, that it might have been an alteration caused by the tranformation. Geralt had been quick to reassure him though. Nothing had changed. The experiences he had made as a wolf had just shown him how nice it was to lower certain inhibitions around trusted people.

Jaskier felt honoured to the point of tears that his mate allowed himself to be soft around him. And  it wasn't only Geralt. Eskel and Lambert, too, skittish and wary as they had first been, had easily opened their doors to him.

His greatest accomplishment though, Jaskier felt, was Vesemir. He and Geralt had been the only Witchers he had endeared himself to without the additional help of a curse. And with Geralt it had taken over a year until the man had been comfortable enough to leave Jaskier alone with his stuff or sleep in the same space without his weapons close by.

"Jaskier, there you are."

Jaskier ducked his head into the book he was reading to hide a smile. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Vesemir stood in the doorframe, his usual stern look in place that Jaskier had come to read as his neutral expression.

"Here I am. Do you need anything?"

"Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?"

Oh, a war council then. Jaskier wondered what his pups had done this time to make Vesemir desperate enough to want to talk to Jaskier behind closed doors about it.

It had only happened once so far, the incident with the nearly double sprained ankle not included. Vesemir had ushered him away from Geralt and Lambert that time, when the two had been at each others throats, fury flaring up in both of them as training didn't go as expected. Eskel had gotten mixed into the mess because he had tried to make peace between them, and Jaskier and Vesemir had looked on as three grown Witchers tumbled across the courtyard in a ball of limbs and teeth.

They had left them to it, after shouting and sweet talking hadn't worked and had sat down in Vesemirs room with a cup of tea to hash out a strategy to minimize the risk of this happening again.

Jaskier fondly looked back to the hours spend planning with Vesemir and jumped at the chance of another such evening.

"It would be my pleasure."

Jaskier hopped down from the beam he had been sitting on. Usually he wouldn't be climbing all over the place, but the reaction of his wolves were just too precious to not risk a few broken limbs here and there. Eskel especially was always doubly affectionate after he had to pull Jaskier out or off seemingly dangerous places.

Sadly Vesemir had stopped reacting to it. The most he got from him now was a raised eyebrow and a disapproving frown.

This time too, he barely got a glance for his spectacular performance. He only heard him grumble a "You'll twist your foot again." as Jaskier followed Vesemir down the network of hallways and up to his room.

"So what did they do this time?" Jaskier asked as soon as the door behind him closed and locked.

Vesemir had prepared for his arrival. A small table had been brought to the balcony overlooking the valley, two comfortable chairs on either side and an assortment of dried fruits, berries and nuts  together with two steaming cups of tea on it.

Vesemir settled heavily into his chair and looked quite amused at the question. "Do I need a reason like that to want to spend time with you?"

Jaskier hurried to make himself comfortable opposite Vesemir and immediately reached for the bowls of treats. "Of course not! I just assumed, I guess. Was I wrong?"

"A little. I wanted to talk to you about a variety of topics. If you are up for it."

"Always." Jaskier smiled into his cup, feeling ridiculously happy to share the warm afternoon with his mates mentor and father figure.

Vesemir nodded at him, taking a sip before speaking again, gaze calculating. "Say Jaskier, are you fully human? There's no shame in that not being the case. I'm just curious."

That was a question Jaskier hadn't counted on and he screwed up his face in confusion. "I'm human? I mean what gave you the idea that I'm not?"

"Your energy, your strength. You keep up with them." Vesemir shrugged. "I haven't seen a human do that before."

Jaskier tried not to show how funny he found Vesemirs lack of knowledge regarding human capabilities. It was nice to hear that he had shaped up enough to stay on par with a Witcher, at least. Even if that was only during training.

"How many humans have you seen try?"

Vesemir made a surprised noise. "A good question. None, I'd say. I'm sorry if I insulted you in any way. It is hard sometimes, remembering the limitations of humans when you don't interact with them much."

Jaskier waved his worried off. "No offence taken. I understand. Geralt tried to feed me raw chicken at the beginning because he had forgotten that humans can't eat that."

"He didn't." Vesemir groaned. "I never thought that we'd someday be so far removed from humanity that we would need lessons on how to deal with them, but I'm beginning to think we will need your advice on that. Tell me what else did he do?"

"Maybe they are just a special bunch." Jaskier laughed, giddy to have someone eager to listen to his stories. "Oh, where to start! But I want to hear some tales about them as well. It would only be fair."

"Very well. How about I tell you what the pups have been up to while you were recovering first?"

~~~

I didn't think much of it at first, my students turning from wolf to man in the courtyard, that is. I'd had seen stranger things. And I had my hands full with you, first with that ankle of yours and then over night you had developed a fever and were babbling nonsense.

 Making sure you survived, Jaskier, was the highest of my priorities at that moment and so I brought you water up to your room and made sure to keep the fire roaring. Sweating out the sickness had always worked well with the lads when they had still been able to get ill. As long as you didn't overheat them. I was prepared for sitting at your bedside for at least a few days, you know. Measuring your temperature, making sure it wouldn't climb too high. But you recovered rather fast.

 Anyway, after I made sure that you wouldn't go anywhere I went into the kitchen to make something against the soreness in your throat you would most likely develope soon. But I had to stop at the doorway. Winter hadn't been over for long and I should have been more prepared for the picture that greeted me. Although maybe not.

 Geralt, Eskel and Lambert were all sat at the table, backs hunched and staring at each other, making little sounds that sounded more like they came from a bunch of dissatisfied kittens then from grown men.

 All three of them looked up when they sensed my presence and scrambled over themselves to talk. With the litany of sounds and scrambled words they threw at me I took a moment to decipher what they actually wanted to say.

 The idiots were worried about you, of course. And I reassured them without glossing over the fact that you were coming down with something.

 They reeked of worry, I tell you, even after I told them that you would be fine. I ignored their continued whining in favour of searching for some herbs I knew made for good, reliable medicine. If they decided to sit and fret that was their problem.

 It was only when I was done feeding you that I returned to my students. They had at least managed to make themselves useful. The pot of porridge I had made that morning stood on the stove, Eskel in front of it. He held a wooden spoon and scratched into the white mass bubbling in the pot. It reminded me of a two year old trying to help out with cooking for the first time. Only with Eskel there was more iron hard focus involved, eyebrows pinched together and stare so intense that the fire reacted to it, burning brighter than it should.

 It started to smell slightly burned.

 I ordered him to get away from the stove and sit back down. It was at that point that it dawned on me that maybe whatever they had gone through had left a deeper mark than I had expected. I swore to myself that I would make Eskel cook again later and would teach him how to do it again if I must, just as I had when Eskel had still been a little child.

 I got to witness the full scale of their deterioration not much later. Using hands is a common occurance during meals and I'm no stranger to a bit of chaos during dinner. But even I flinched when Geralt slammed his head into the bowl and began slurping, Eskel and Lambert not far behind.

 I cleared my throat to get their attention, heads shooting up as fast as they had rushed down, three sets of wide, confused eyes staring at me in absolute terror. Their quick movements had send foodstuff flying everywhere and their faces were absolutely filthy.

 I held up my hand to stop Eskel from apologizing and pointedly showed them how to eat in an acceptable way with slow, deliberate movements. They watched and hesitantly copied me for a while, only to get distracted when Eskel tried to lick some of the sludge off Geralts face, which made Lambert try to do it to him too and that turned into a kind of licking fight I had no nerve left to witness. By the sounds of it when I went by the kitchen later they had gone back to just using their mouths again.

"Oh that is marvelous! I can't believe I missed this. It must have been adorable!" Jaskier nearly squealed. His face had heated up a bit, from the warmth of the sun, but also from the strain of laughing.

Vesemir took a swig of his drink as though the tea was some sort of shot to be downed in one go. "It was disgusting. But it didn't stop there."

 A few days later I went out hunting and brought back two deer to make into a stew, which I hoped would stay in your stomach and ease your scratchy throat. I told Eskel and Geralt to cut them up as I had done many times. Given that they avoided your room like the plague and Geralt always came out after seconds looking like he had just pissed himself in front of his one true love, it fell to me to check in on you every few hours. I didn't mind it, of course, but it meant I needed to devide the chores.

 That, I found out soon, had been a big mistake. I came back down to chaos, blood everywhere, the deer torn into mangled pieces and three Witchers snarling and growling at each other, mouths and teeth tainted a dark red.

 Eskel had bent over the table, covering the one deer that was still halfway whole with his body, crackles of chaos emitting from him and making my skin hum. Geralt and Lambert had squirreled away a heap of raw meat each and were trying to get Eskel to abandon his post. Which seemed impossible, given Eskels devotion to protect the rest of their meal. But was also foiled by Geralts and Lamberts own greed. Whenever Geralt was distracted with swiping at Eskels prize Lambert would try to snatch a piece from Geralts heap. And whenever Lambert focussed on Eskel, Geralt would do the same.

 I yelled at them to stop, earning two shocked yelps and one confused bark.

 I cut off Eskels apology and told them all to clean off. I planned on talking to them about their outlandish behavior later.

 Later turned out to be three days after, because none of them came out of their hiding place before that.

Jaskier cackled at the mental picture Vesemir had conjured up in his head. "That sounds a lot like what I've had to deal with as well. Horribly jealous bunch those three, especially when it comes to food. Poor Eskel probably tried to protect the deer so it could be shared evenly. He's always the most well behaved."

Vesemir shook his head. "Don't let him fool you he's just hiding it better. But I guess he has the most sense out of all of them."

"He can be quite mischievious from time to time." Jaskier agreed, remembering how Eskel had torn up and eaten the letter the Fae had gifted him with. "Geralt can be, too, though. When I first started travelling with him he didn't want me coming anywhere close to the monsters he fought. He didn't even want me accompanying him to the murder sights to watch him interrogate people and look around for clues."

Vesemir nodded. "A sensible thing to do."

Jaskier scowled at him. "Not at all, if you ask me. Especially because he hates it when I work in inaccuracies in my songs. And it's really fascinating, seeing you Witchers work. It's like you are agents for the Secret Service or something. And Geralt tends to talk the most on hunts. Mostly to himself, mind you. But his observations are always so insightful. He sometimes takes ages to inspect a monster corpse, going on about its features and age and diet and all of that. It's like when he's talking to Roach. He forgets the rest of the world is there. It's cute."

"It sounds like he didn't have much success in keeping you away from his hunts."

Jaskier snorted into his drink. "Of course not. But ohhh did he try! He would slip out during the night or when I was performing at first. I got behind his strategy pretty quick. Not much finesse to it. So I found ways to get around his sudden disappearances. Conveniently placed items that would make a noise when he tried to leave at night, rescheduling performances to times he would be there again things like that. Then he started covering his tracks so I wouldn't be able to follow him. But people are rather talkative most of the time, especially when it comes to monsters, so I generally knew where he would be. Which turned out to be more dangerous, because the monsters tended to come to me rather than Geralt. There were a few close calls and after a bit Geralt would just lock me in my room."

Jaskier had to laugh at the memory of Geralts face when he had found Jaskier out and about the first time he had tried that. Vesemir just frowned at him, probably pitying Geralt.

"Anyway that didn't work out either. I'm very adept at escaping locked rooms. He locked the door, I climbed out the window. He barricaded the window, I picked the lock on the door and so on and so forth. Once he even tried to drug me. But that didn't go well. For some reason what he gave me made me sick and unable to move from pain instead of just knocking me out. He was feeling horribly guilty after that. In the end he let me tag along whenever I pleased and when a contract is too dangerous we part ways for a few weeks or months, like when Geralt battled with the Striga."

Vesemir narrowed his eyes at him. "You'll have to tell me what herbs he used. Things like that can be dangerous. I don't want to feed you a tea or put a salve on you that your body can't tolerate."

"You'll have to ask Geralt for that I'm afraid. I wasn't exactly lucid when he told me and I didn't want to bring up the subject after because he always got so incredible sad." Jaskier waved his hands as though he could shoo away the dark cloud that had come to hang over their heads. "But anyway that's my story. What else have our three adorable puppies done while I was in bed and couldn't witness shit?"

"Please don't call them that around me." Vesemir sighed. "I might give you another reason why they didn't visit you."

~~~

I probably should have put you in another room after finding out about their newfound weakness. But I had hoped the urge to go and see you would motivate them to try and overcome their shortcomings.

 As you well know I took you to a room on the second floor, taking you up the old staircase. It's a bit uneven, but not much of a hurdle even if you are drunk.

 But it turned out to be an unclimbable barrier for our wolves. I came out of your room one day to find Geralt at the bottom of the stairs, whining and toeing the first step. He hadn't noticed me in his distress, so I decided to watch him for a while.

 I didn't want to spook him, most and foremost. He get's horribly embarassed so easily. All of them have too much pride sometimes, but Geralt is the worst of all. But another thing was, and this might be important for you later on as well, I wanted to observe him when he thought no one was looking. The time when people feel they are alone is were they show their most vulnerable side. This can be used against enemies, but also to help friends and family with matters that are hard for them to voice. If you think something is ever wrong with any of them, I'd recommend watching them first. Melitele knows those three don't talk about their issues. Eskel maybe, but only if he doesn't feel like he would burden you with it.

 But I'm getting off track again. So I stood there watching Geralt grow more and more agitated. He would try and take a step, shy away, pace, then crouch down and put a hand to it. It was like he was trying to figure out the logistics of walking up stairs.

 After a while I cleared my throat and he looked up at me. I believe the reason why he tried walking up the stairs then was because he knew I was there. I don't know how to describe it to you Jaskier, the attempt he made to get to you. He did get up eventually, but the picture he painted.

 I knew it was no laughing matter, but it looked funny. It was like watching a young hound trying to climb his masters stairs for the first time. Only the hound was trying to imitate the way his master walked them up.

 I clapped him on the back once he was done. He was horribly embarassed I knew. So I told him he did a good job. That made him perk back up a bit.

 After that I decided to see how the other two managed the staircase. I was able to watch Lambert next. He didn't hesitate at all, but he clambered up the steps on all fours and then stood up with a very confused look on his face. Eskel tried one step the normal way and then used Aard to push himself up the rest of the way. He surely was the most efficient, but his signs had always been strong and I could see he had cracked some of the tiles on the ground. I couldn't let him continue to do that either.

 The next thing I observed was how they got down. Geralt was faster there than he was making his way up. He would step sideways down the stairs with his hands pressed to the wall. He later told me he did that to keep himself from accidently going back to using all fours.

 Lambert just jumped, not bothering with the stairs at all. He, too used the wall to help him out. Only he jumped at the wall first to give him a boost to get him the rest of the way down.

 Eskel had the most problems getting down. He didn't want to use Aard again, fearing he would miscalculate and not land well, he told me later during one of our training sessions. He tried Geralts method, but that only got him halfway down and he nearly slipped a few times, so he jumped the rest of the way.

 I had them walking stairs for days after finding out. And still I find Lambert sometimes using all fours when he wants to rush somewhere and forgets about his legs.

"Oh the poor dears." Jaskier cooed. "It must have been so frustrating for them. Especially Geralt. I know he hates it whenever he doesn't have full control of his body. Even when it's his own damn fault."

Vesemir rumbled, a sign for Jaskier to go on. He had stood up at one point during his story, rummaging through his cupboard to produce a bottle of Est Est and was currently serving them their first shot.

They clinked their glasses together, Jaskier coughing after having downed his shot. "Ah the burn never looses its touch. Well it was actually on a night like this when I first found out Witchers could actually get drunk. Well we didn't have tea beforehand of course, nor the sweet treats or a ceiling above our heads. We were camping somewhere close to Midcopse and the weather in Velen was pretty bearable for a change. We had rejoined a few weeks before and I had brought some good bottles of wine with me. You know Geralt, he says he doesn't need anything, but he's got some very fancy tastes when it comes to his beverages. So I thought we could have some good vintages as a treat.

One bottle turned into two and Geralt was absolutely smashed after I had opened the third. I was well into the territory of drunk myself, but nowhere near where he had already gone to. We had set up camp in an old ruin for the night to take shelter from the sharp winds that were wont to come and go in the region.

And Geralt had wanted to take a piss. Only for some reason he had gotten it into his head that he needed to get to the next room to do so. Which was, of course, over the wall. It was maybe a little taller than him, the ledge just over his head. But for the life of him he couldn't grasp it. He would jump like a frog and try to grap at the ledge, but his coordination sucked and he would just slump back down."

Jaskiers eyes glittered with mirth as he held out his shot glass again for Vesemir to fill. "It was a truly hilarious sight! And it went on for quite a while. Until he gave up and just pissed into the corner, grumbling all the while. He threatened me to never speak of it to anyone the next morning and didn't say another word to me for the next three days!"

Vesemir nodded. "He is quite the snowflake. I can see why he took to you so much."

He ignored Jaskiers offended squawking in favour of pouring himself another one. "And he has very delicate taste. Baths, he loves them. And he's very particular about smells. More so than any of his brothers. That reminds me. You might like this little story. They're still doing it from time to time, but not nearly as much now."

~~~

It happened for the first time after the dinner fiasco. I had just come from your room and was making my way towards the library when I passed by Eskel. I nodded at him in greeting, expecting a nod in return and to be let through. But I found my way blocked instead. Eskel had positioned himself in the middle of the hallway, nostrils flaring with a heavy frown on his face.

 I wasn't in the mood for any of their new outlandish behaviors at this point in time, so I asked him what was wrong. That seemed to shake him out of his haze. He sniffed a few times, stepped closer and took another whiff of me before releasing a quiet growl. He left with a huff.

 At this point I just knew this would become an issue. The not eating right had become one. And the not walking straight and not being able to talk right had become one. So I knew I needed to watch out for this too. I wouldn't have thought it would become so much of a problem. But my first encounter had been Eskel and you know him, he's always the polite one. Has much more self control than the others most of the time, too.

 Lambert and Geralt? They were a different story. The next time something similar happened it was Lambert I encountered. He hadn't shown up for breakfast and after tending to you I decided to see what he was up to. A quiet Lambert is never a good sign. Hadn't been when he was but a wee child and still wasn't now.

 I heard him growl from behind the door before I even fully got there. I called out to him, knowing when he was in one of his moods it was better to approach from a distance at first. The growling just got louder. I debated leaving him to it, you know. With him you never know when it's right to approach and when not, but he smelled distressed, so I choose to go to him.

 As soon as I opened the door he rushed me. I had expected that, sometimes he just needed a good brawl to get the excess energy out. I caught him without a problem. But what I hadn't expected was the thorough examination I suddenly found myself in right after the assault. Lambert didn't make a move to get out of my arms, clinging on even when I let go of him. Instead he furiously sniffed at me for several awkward minutes, before hopping down with a snarl, shoving me out of the room and storming off.

 Shortly after he came back with Geralt in tow, who too seemed to have forgotten what personal space was. I stood still and let them do their thing. I figured that if their actions were guided by wolf instincts it would be best to endure the examination. It was only when Geralt actually tried to lick me that I put a hand to his mouth and pushed him away.

Jaskier giggled again, by now having downed three shots of pretty strong alcohol. "Oh did he try to lick into your mouth, too?" Vesemirs face told him everything the man didn't want him to know and Jaskier burst out laughing. "How glorious! And sweet."

"Disgusting." Vesemir muttered, taking a shot just for that mental image alone.

"At least he was in human form already. I had him lick into my mouth in wolf form and I can tell you that is very unpleasant."

"Ugh, bard I didn't need to know that."

"Of course you do it's perfect blackmail material."

"Hm."

Jaskier grinned wide and leaned forward, snatching the bottle and serving himself some more of the good stuff. "Why did they sniff you so?"

"Ah." it was Vesemirs turn to smile.

 It took a few more times before I finally realized what set them off. They always came to me after I had left your room. And depending which mood you had been in they would react either in a positive or negative manner. That day when Lambert went to get Geralt you had been pretty upset, which in turn made me angry at them. They had tried to find out what had caused your distress. Without actually going to your room and talking to you, of course.

 Anyway they got unbearable I tell you. Would crowd in close as soon as I got out of your room until I had to forcibly remove them from my person. I told them multiple times that they should just see you if they wanted to know how you were doing. But they always slunk off with their tail between their legs when I suggested it. Geralt got the same treatment whenever he had manned up enough to go visit you, of course. And those pictures I'd like to bleach from my mind. I at least always put a stop to it when the examination became too aggressive, but Geralt has the same instincts as his brothers and no shame to boot. I shouted at them more than once to go get a room. The way they tumbled over each other to sniff and lick was more disturbing than my first time seeing a noonwraith in person.

 You don't understand how relieved I was when you were finally able to meet them in the kitchen. The sulking and pining was horrible. But combined with their territorial antics and constant scenting their behavior was really close to driving me up the wall.

"Poor dears. It does make the days spend in bed better, though. In retrospect, that is. Knowing that they were beating themselves up at least a little. They should have just come see me. I'm sorry they bothered you like that."

Vesemir shrugged and stood, rounding the table to clasp Jaskiers shoulder. "I've had to deal with worse things in my life. And at least I'm not the one they are trying to scent mark all the time."

"Very true. Although I really don't mind. Well, most of the time. This whole thing does make me wonder, though. What do you think? How much wolf is in them now?"

They both stood, making their way into Vesemirs room. Jaskier eyed the huge bed, unable to ignore the massive furniture. It looked so cozy. And also very out of place in the mostly empty space. He wondered why it was Vesemir who had it. It didn't seem like he ever had company up here.

Vesemir stoked the fire as he thought. "More then before, but it's getting less, I think?"

"Is it? Or are they just getting better at hiding them?"

"That is a thought." Vesemir agreed, turning when Jaskier let out a loud yawn, watching as the human stretched impossibly wide before sagging into himself. "For another time." Vesemir concluded after that display.

"Yes you are probably right. Vesemir? I liked this, could we maybe do it again?"

"I wouldn't be averse to it. Now close that damn door it's getting cold here." Vesemir grumbled.

Jaskier waved at him before slipping out the door. It had gotten late without him noticing. Late afternoon turning into evening. The great hall was already deserted and the kitchen, albeit still warm held nothing more than the leftover dinner. Still pretty much full from the snacks Vesemir had provided, Jaskier only nicked half a bowl of stew and quickly gulfed down the lukewarm food before continuing in his search for his pack.

Stepping into the room he shared with Geralt he found his mate sitting next to the nest they had build for Eskel and Lambert, various small piles of cards in front of him. He looked particularly broody this fine evening.

"Did Eskel beat you again?" Jaskier asked, unable to banish the amusement from his voice. He traipsed over, carefully stepping over the mounds of blankets and pillows to join his love on the floor.

Geralts scowl only deepened. "Only because Lambert distracted me."

"Of course. And that's why you decided to gut your whole deck again."

"Hm."

Unbelievable amounts of fondness rose in Jaskiers chest. Careful not to jostle his mate and distract him from his important task he pressed a chaste kiss to Geralts temple. Then he bent over him, stretching far enough to be able to point at a Geralt of Rivia card, the one he knew to was used to kill especially high counting cards.

"Put that one in."

"That's not meant to go in my deck, Jask. It would screw up my card count and wouldn't add to my strategy at all. Why would you even want to add that?"

"Because it's pretty."

Geralt paused head turning ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of glittering blue eyes. "Oh?"

"Hmhm. I like the man in the picture."

His upper body turned then, until Geralt was able to steal a kiss from Jaskiers lips without any discomfort. "Do you now?"

Jaskier didn't get the time to answer. Geralt dove right back in, licking into Jaskiers mouth and taking his tongue hostage. Twisting until he was fully facing Jaskier, Geralt didn't hesitate to pull him into his lap and keep him there, hands gripping slender hips.

Using the freedom his lips were granted while Geralt attacked his throat Jaskier managed to form a reply from the heavy fog of lust that was slowly descending onto his mind. "Very much."

With a growl that sounded far more dangerous than it was, Jaskier was lifted up and tossed onto the bed. No sooner did his back hit the matress when Geralt was already on him, hands finding Jaskiers and intertwining their fingers. It seemed like Geralt was determined to kiss him brainless.

Jaskier moaned into Geralts hot mouth, loud and unashamed. His mate responded with a pleased rumble and rewarded him with a delicious roll of his hips.

"Fuck." Geralt cursed as they set a frantic pace.

"You're such a romantic." Jaskier quipped, squealing when Geralt retaliated with tiny licks to his face that tickled and were anything but arousing.

Hands left his, Geralts fingers trailing down his sides to hold him as he tried to squirm out from under Geralts gross ministrations, shrieks of laughter replacing the moans.

"Hey! Is the fucking over already? Can we come in?" Lambert hollered from the other side of the sturdy wood.

Groaning Geralt slumped over, nearly squishing Jaskier with his weight, and tugged his nose into Jaskiers shoulder.

Jaskier carded his fingers through his disgruntled lovers hair with a chuckle. "Cuddles or sex, darling?"

Geralt glanced up at him at that, brows furrowed in thought, conflicted. And then, for a moment he looked downright guilty as he asked, "Cuddles?"

Jaskier kissed the worried frown from his loves lips. "Cuddles it is." Louder he adressed the two waiting wolves at the door. "You can come in!"

"Thank fuck!"

"You have to cuddle with Geralt though, Lambert." Jaskier added feeling Geralt wiggle in excitement as Lambert barged into the room and made for the bed.

"Aww man."

With a last kiss Jaskier parted from his mate, briefly stopping to nuzzle Lamberts cheek as they switched places, Lambert grumbling all the while. Jaskier would have been jealous if it hadn't been for the happy sigh Geralt let out as Lambert begrudgingly wriggled into his arms.

The constant tiny growls Lambert emitted were cute as hell. But despite the want to join them on the bed Jaskier made himself comfortable on the matress in front of the fireplace. Eskel stood in in front of the closed door all the while, surveilling the scene and only stepped fully into the room when Jaskier beckoned him over.

"We really didn't interrupt you?" he asked, crouching down to nose at Jaskiers neck, always checking for signs of discomfort now.

"You did a little. But we wouldn't have let you in had we minded."

Jaskier started to scratch behind Eskels ears, coaxing him ever lower until they too were all tangled up in each other.

"You wouldn't have been able to stop us from coming in." Lambert snarked, growl coming back tenfold when Geralt bit his ear and held him closer.

Eskel threw a pillow in his general direction, but it was probably snatched up by the sounds of it. Jaskier didn't bother to check, snickering into Eskels hair at his packs ridiculousness. He loved them so much. But he wished they could have a space to all cuddle together that wasn't the hard floor. His thoughts drifted to the huge bed in Vesemirs room.

Maybe, if he could endear himself a little more to Vesemir they could all curl up there. Yes, that sounded like a good plan to pursue.

____

@batmanzplan @aj-that-person

Sorry I haven’t been updating for a while now ><

#the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #eskel #lambert #vesemir #my writing #seraswriting #herdingwolves

[seralyra]

Herding Wolves Chapter 1

Summary: It‘s early spring and Jaskier is looking to reunite with Geralt again when a white wolf with suspiciously amber eyes blocks his path. The bard lets himself be dragged through the woods by an obviously cursed Witcher only to get the shock of his life when he is led to two other wolves. One of which is badly injured.

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Decided to finally copy what I have of my fic onto tumblr, cause I’ve been posting fanart and stuff for it, so I might as well put the fanfic here too XD And it’s good posting practice

It’s also on AO3 if you wanna read it there.

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The frost turning the streets into a slippery mess was slowly retreating, birds beginning to chirp merrily outside his window in the mornings, hoping to attract a mate. Spring was waking up the land like a soft kiss from a lover and with it Jaskier too became restless.

He had wintered in Oxenfurt as he was wont to do, relishing in the often bright minds of his students, the good wine and food. The sheer artistic chaotic energy that enveloped the city at all times helped to keep the melancholy at bay, which always seemed to creep up on him in the darkest hours of the year.

But now as the first leaves presented themselves on the trees Jaskier felt his energy levels rise. His fellow professors noticed, scoffing at him with amused smiles. Like a bird, they said. Ready to migrate back to the road for the summer. They didn‘t understand the appeal, but didn‘t begrudge him for his habits. He always brought a fresh wind to the academy, but would he stay too long they‘d probably have to throw him out the next window or something.

He was barely managable while subdued because of the cold. They didn‘t want to be around him when he was at his brightest, just knowing the academy would desolve into chaos in weeks if he ever decided to stay for the summer. Or burn down. Probably both.

So it was in everyones best interest that he left to search for his muse as soon as the roads were crossable again. And he went, singing and happily strumming his lute with a spring to his step that didn‘t disappear even after hours of walking.

Bright blue eyes shone as he took in the beauty around him, greedily soaking up the still rather weak rays of the sun. He travelled light as always and stopped in every village no matter the size, playing his songs and holding an ear out for rumors about a Witcher.

He travelled along the Pontar river, passing Rinde and was on his way to Murivel, when he once again had to set up camp in the wilderness.

Jaskier tried to avoid doing so whenever he wandered the roads alone. It was one thing sleeping in the open with a Witcher at his side, or even with a group of travellers. It was very much different when he was on his own. Much more dangerous, to be exact. Despite running after a Witcher for over ten years now he was still but a mere bard with only a lute and a dagger to defend himself.

Oh he was positively wicked with a dagger, that was for sure. And his lute was surprisingly sturdy (probably elven magic) and just as useful as a club as it was as an instrument. But both of these facts wouldn‘t protect him from a group of bandits or trained military men.

Or a pack of wolves for that matter.

Jaskier flinched when he heard the first howls, far too close for comfort. He had half a mind to pack his things and try his luck elsewhere, but it had already gone dark, the crackling fire the only reliable light source. So he could only sit there and hope the wild animals would shy away from the flames.

Once again he wished that he had the senses of his dear mutated friend. Being able to smell threats from a mile away was super convenient when having to set up camp in an unfamiliar forest. Thankfully he hadn‘t encountered any beast while out foraging.

Trying to keep his racing heart under control he took the kettle away from the flames and poored himself a mug of strong herbal tea. A knack he had developed during his time lecturing in Oxenfurt. Damn he was getting old if he had already swapped his evening wine with tea. Frowning he tried to make out his face in the dark water and was debating if he should take out his small mirror to check for grey hairs, when something huge, white and furry jumped into the camp with barely a noise made.

Jaskier would forever deny the high squeak he let out. The mug went flying, watering the plants as the bard scrambled to his feet, grabbing his lute and holding it out in front of him like a sword.

The white wolf stood on the other side of the camp fire. It was huge, easily coming up to Jaskiers hip and it scowled at him as if he was offended by Jaskiers choice of weapon. It let out a low huff, the very picture of being unimpressed.

It was the familiar behavior, the golden eyes, but most importantly the obvious wolf medaillon that made Jaskier lower his impromptu weapon.

„Oh no, you don‘t get to look at me like that. You know my lute can pack a perfectly good punch. And has a longer range than my dagger. It‘s a perfectly sensible choice of weapon! And anyway you have no ground to criticise me given that I‘m the on currently with two opposable thumbs! What happened?“

He had placed his lute back on the ground and rounded the fire to get to his friend as he talked, not for a second leaving the beast out of sight. Sure it looked and behaved like Geralt, but that could very much also be a ruse. He would never hear the end of it if he accidently got mauled by an animal because he had mistaken it for his friend.

Letting the wolf sniff his hand first he only received a short warning growl when he carded his fingers through the thick fur. Jaskier smiled when he felt Geralt push into the touch afterwards, pointedly looking in the other direction. The attention of wandering hands searching for any injuries soon proofed to be too much however. Geralt danced away from him with a bark and scratched at the ground.

„Alright, alright no more touching. Sorry for being worried about you.“ Throwing his hands in the air he stood again.

The plan had been to go back to his bag and search for some leftover jerky for his friend, maybe play the lute afterwards and then in the morning start to puzzle out the mystery that was his wolf turned friend. But Geralt would have none of that as it seemed. He barked at him again, urgent, something like desperation in his tone. And when Jaskier only looked at him incomprehending the wolf bolted forward, snatching Jaskiers fine silk sleeve and pulled.

Jaskier bent over, caught off guard and off balance, not captured arm flaying around in an attempt to not face plant into the dirt.

„Geralt!“

The wolf barely gave him time to find his footing again, pulling again which forced Jaskier to take another step in the direction Geralt wanted him to go.

„Okay! I get it, I get it, you want to show me something. Can‘t it wait till morning, though? I can‘t see in the dark like you can, you know!“

A growl answered him. Geralt let go of his sleeve, instead circling him to be able to push him from behind.

„Fine! Demanding and rude as ever I see. Lead the way then.“

With the reassurance given that Jaskier would follow, the wolf shot off with a bark. „Geralt wait! Human eyes! I can‘t see shit!“

The glare that was sent his way whenever he stumbled over a root or nearly ran into a tree because of the effort to keep up made Jaskier want to hit the man turned animal. As if it was his fault that he couldn‘t see in the dark! Really, the nerve.

They, or rather Jaskier, stumbled through the night for what felt like hours. Together with the exhaustion that always came with a day of walking and the late hour the bard was starting to get downright cranky. Between heavy breaths (Geralt didn‘t deem it necessary to slow down for his handicapped companion) he voiced his displeasure, cursing everything from pushy Witchers, to crazy mages and weak human eye sight.

Until they reached a well hidden assembly of boulders, crumbled in a way that made for a natural overhang.  Jaskier clicked his mouth shut suddenly not so sure anymore if the White Wolf at his side really was his Witcher friend. Was there a monster that could lure people out by disguising itself as cursed friends in need? If so that was a very stupid hunting strategy. Even if he had fallen for it.

The reason for his brief resurfacing of self-preservation instinct were the two wolves laying under the overhang. One was about as huge as Geralt and must have been some sort of lighter colour. Jaskier couldn‘t really tell if it was a shade of grey or brown. What he could tell was that the wolf was curled around another, smaller one that was definitely black as coal.

The White Wolf nudged him forward with a low whine. And as Jaskier let himself get pushed closer he saw the reason for the urgency. The black wolf was laying in a pool of blood, several arrows burried deep in his hide. Three cracked and knawed at ones lay not too far away. An indicator that his packmates had tried to wrench them out before looking for aid. The wounds that came from that wouldn‘t be a pretty sight, Jaskier was sure.

The wolf was puffing out air from wheezing lungs and that definitely didn‘t sound good either. Even with Witcher healing Jaskier understood that time was of the essence should a lung or other important organ have been hit.

Both foreign wolves tensed as Jaskier came closer and the bard halted in his steps as the bigger one of them rumbled a low warning growl. An answering, even louder and more impressive one came from Jaskiers side, followed by an exasperated bark.

The grey or brown one whined, snout pressing against the head of his injured pack mate, who was watching Jaskiers every move with a sort of wary resignation, ears held flat and tail tugged between his hindlegs.

It was a truly adorable yet sad sight and Jaskier didn‘t care anymore if these were Witchers or wild animals or monsters. He would help, if it was the last thing he did.

„It‘s alright. I‘m Geralts friend. You know the humble bard, who graced a ride along. You have to have heard my hit debut Toss a Coin somewhere in your travels!“ That earned him a rumble that sounded almost like a groan from the black one and an unimpressed stare from the greyish one. Which Jaskier decided to ignore. „I‘m here to help. As long as you promise not to bite my hand off when I‘m starting to treat that. Geralt? Be a dear and go back to my camp, bring me my bag, I‘ll make a fire in the meantime so I can see what I‘m doing. And Blacky?“ The black one outright snarled at him. „Oh prideful one, I see. We‘ll think about fitting names later. Anyway don‘t bleed out on me while I‘ll prepare everything, okay?“

His eyes had adjusted as best as possible to the meager light trickling into the forest from the stars and moon above. The circumstances weren‘t the best, but he had always had an affinity for fire, so this one was lit in no time. He kept up a running commentary while he worked, mostly to calm himself.

The two wolves didn‘t move, but kept watching him with their golden eyes and Jaskier was seriously doubting the soundness of his idea to send Geralt away. He didn‘t know these two. Heck he wasn‘t even entirely sure if they were really transformed Witchers or not.

Jaskier wanted to help. He really did. He also wanted to keep his hands and throat intact, though. He needed both for making noise! He couldn‘t just start whistling songs should some maw liberate him of his vocal cords. Not that he would be able to do even that should one of the wolves (probably the uninjured one) decide to rip out his throat. He‘d be dead then. And dead bards can‘t tell any tales whatsoever.

Despite these worries Jaskier inched towards the overhang and knelt down a few inches away from them once the fire was set. Close enough that he could touch the smallest ones flank, should he dare to stretch his arm out all the way.

In the firelight he was able to make out more. The uninjured wolf was mostly a dirty brown with a few darker streaks of fur here and there. He was scarred, three marks running down his face, twisting one side of his mouth into a permanent snarl. The other one was just as morbidly decorated. A fine vertical line trailing up and down one of his eyes. Not to mention the dozen scars only partly hidden by thick fur.

„Someone did quite a number on you, huh?“ Jaskier muttered, shuffling closer still and letting his hands hover over the wounds as he rattled off what damage he saw and what he would need to treat it. „You wouldn‘t happen to have one of your potion bags around? Would potions even work for you right now? What with the different build and all-“

The brown one sneezed at him, lifting his head enough to shake it before nosing at his injured companion again. Jaskier couldn‘t help but smile at the adorable sight.

„Right, no potions either way I presume that was what this was supposed to mean. Now-“

At that moment Geralt sprinted back into the camp again. How he could be so big and yet so silent was beyond the bard. But then that had been a mystery even before the man had been turned into an animal.

He had Jaskiers bag dangling between his teeth and trodded over, tail tugged low with barely concealed anxiety.

„Thank you. Now little wolf please don‘t bite my hand off. I‘ll have to remove the arrows and that will hurt.“

He waited after he said that. He had gotten another snarl at the new nickname, but after that the dark one swept his gaze over to Geralt, who had come to stand on Jaskiers right side, tense as a bowstring.

They were locked in some kind of staring contest, while the brown one shuffled nervously behind his kin. In the end Geralt won the arguement. The black one gave a low whine and settled, head facing away from Jaskier, yet his visible yellow eye watched every move.

Jaskier didn‘t need the nudge from his friend to understand that he was allowed to go on. He appreciated it nonetheless.

Pulling the arrows out was a horrible business, worse than cleaning and dressing the wounds afterwards. He warned the wolf in his care of each move he made, narrating the whole process in a low, soothing voice he usually only reserved for traumatized children or sleep deprived Witchers waking up from nightmares.

When all was said and done the adrenalin had left his system once and for all and his eyelids were drooping. The thought of trudging back through the dark to get to his bedroll, probably to get lost along the way, was not an option. So he flopped onto a grassy bit near the fire and let sleep claim him.

He wondered if the Witcher wolves would still be there in the morning.

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Note: Gonna post a chapter every other day so as not to spam you guys until I’ve caught up to the AO3 version. Note that the fic is still ongoing. Current status: 7 chapters complete, chapter 8 in progress.

Feel free to leave prompts and I’ll see if I can work them into the story~

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #lambert #wolf!geralt #wolf!eskel #wolf!lambert #curses #adventure #fluff #fanfiction #my writing #seraswriting #herdingwolves

[seralyra]

I wanted to draw this since I wrote that scene in my fic. So have fun with this unholy trinity of memes.

Also it would seem unfair not to mention @mawbwehownets​ here, who did a similar, but much more awesome comic~ (I’ll write you back soon I promise!)

#the witcher #jaskier #comics #memes #lambert #herdingwolves #serasart #my art #first comic #someday i'll know how to do anatomy right #that day is not today

[seralyra]

I tried ><

#the witcher #fanart #jaskier #eskel #animal transformation #wolf eskel #my art #serasart #herdingwolves #i'm planning to draw the others as well #someday #promise #i'm slow as fuck though

[seralyra]

Herding Wolves Chapter 14

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 ___

The boys get awkward. ___

He came to again while being carried through what looked like the main entrance, wet, exhausted and in pain, wishing he could have stayed unconscious longer than just a few heartbeats.

"G'ralt?"

"Still sorting himself out I'm afraid." the foreign Witcher rumbled, carefully shouldering open the door and briskly walking through the halls. "Hold on. You'll be warm soon."

"Hmn sounds lovely."

Jaskier didn't even try to keep track of where they were going, exhaustion taking permanent residence in his bones now that he had stopped moving. It was dark nearly everywhere. Cold stone encasing him like a tomb, shadows and cobwebs its only decorations. His surroundings only became interesting once they stepped into a cozy room that reminded Jaskier of his professor suite in Oxenfurt.

Carefully he was placed in an armchair that still held the body heat from the Witcher standing before him. Jaskier leaned over the armrest to get closer to the merry fire crackling in the fireplace. Bloody spring, had no business going crazy with the weather like that. He could have marched up the path with a warm breeze pushing him on and the sun warming his back. But no! Nature was such a bitch.

A startled yelp escaped him when he felt a touch on his injured foot, but a hand shot out to steady his leg before he could hurt himself further.

"Apologies. I'll have to check your ankle. May I?"

"Oh. Of course. Yes. Please, uhm-"

"Vesemir." the man said with a huff that sounded eerily like Geralts. "And you must be the bard that decided to follow Geralt around."

"That I am! Jaskier, pleased to make your acquaintance!" Jaskier tried to sound more cheerful and less like a drowned rat that had just been run over by a cart. And he might have even succeeded in his charade had he not tensed up as gentle fingers pried the thin leather of his shoes off his foot. It didn't hurt as much as he had feared.

Vesemir tsked at the soggy bit of animal skin and threw it in front of the fire. "Those are not fit for wandering the Killer, boy."

"I know... It's not like I had the time to prepare for it, given the circumstances."

"I'm looking forward to hear that story. Good to have someone here who knows how to use words for once. Only Eskel isn't shit at it. And Coen, but he doesn't winter here often."

"I'll be honored to share my ta- AH!"

Vesemir had inspected Jaskiers ankle with care, rough fingers gliding over the swollen red and blue skin. And then he had pressed down, the tight hold on Jaskiers leg the only reason he still sat in the chair and hadn't jumped to the farthest corner of the room.

"Meliteles- Fuck!"

"Just a sprain. A small prize to pay for your stupidity."

Jaskier winced as he drew his foot back, now finally allowed to. "We weren't being stupid. Just desperate. The path had looked alright when we started on it, muddy and wet but stable. The weather just suddenly decided that pooring rain wasn't enough anymore."

As though he had offended the weather god himself the sky flashed bright, lightning and thunder nearly overlapping and the resounding crash so loud that Jaskiers ears popped.

Teeth massaging the flesh of his lip Jaskier glanced towards the window. "Are you sure they are alright? They're not still outside are they?"

Vesemir gave him a funny look. "If they know what's good for them they'll get the horses dry and look them over, then go and clean themselves up. Don't move I'm gonna get some salve. Also get out of your rags, you'll catch a cold."

"Ra- Why that-" Jaskier spluttered in outrage, but it seemed like it was a longstanding Witcher tradition to rile up the bard only to leave him stewing.

Well... He thought as he peeled himself out of what was left of his clothes. Maybe he could forgive Vesemir his impaired judgement. Under all the mud and with all those tears and holes his doublet and chemise really didn't look like much anymore.

Still. Rags! As if he would ever be seen wearing anything that wasn't of the highest quality! Grumbling he rid himself of the remains of his outfit, pulling a face as the fabric clung to his damp skin. He frowned down at his pants when he had freed his torso, debating how he was supposed to get them off without moving too much, when a noise from the doorway distracted him.

"You look like you've just been insulted."

Jaskiers heart skipped a beat. He hadn't heard that voice in far too long. Sure it was more rumbly and cracked every few syllables, but it still unmistakenly belonged to Geralt. And there stood the man himself, dripping brown sludge onto the stone floor. He was hunched over, as though his body still wanted to use his arms as backup legs. His armour and hair looked like he had just fought a Kikimora in a particularly dirty swamp.

And he stood far too far away for Jaskiers liking, who didn't dare reach out with his hand to beckon him closer, afraid to drive Geralt to flee if he so much as blinked too fast.

"Vesemir said my clothes look like rags." There this was safer.

Geralt peered at him through the wild strands, roaming over his hairy chest and then wandering to the sad pile of ruined expensive finery. "To be fair..." Geralt started, voice getting lost in a growl before long. He coughed to cover up his mishap and started again. "They do look like that."

Jaskier sniffed, a shiver wracking his frame. "And who's fault is that?"

He got an unimpressed stare from Geralt, before it melted into concern when another tremble made Jaskier rub at his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Cold... And I can't get my pants off without disobeying Vesemir."

"Hm. You shouldn't disobey Vesemir. Let me help."

Geralt waited until he received a nod from Jaskier before taking hesitant, unsteady steps leading him further into the room. He hunched over more and more the closer he got to Jaskier, before catching himself and straightening up again. His shoulders immediately sagged once he got back to his full heighth and he looked visibly uncomfortable at being so high up.

Jaskier fought the urge to run his hands through the white strands that were in optimal petting distance once Geralt crouched down to carefully peel the wet fabric down Jaskiers legs. He dug his fingers into the armrest instead, gritting his teeth against the pain as his ankel was jostled.

In no time at all he sat naked in front of the fire, shivering kicking up several notches. Geralt didn't seem to notice at first, too focussed on the injury Jaskier had sustained.

"It's just sprained." Jaskier was quick to sooth. "Vesemir is already getting the healing salve. Could you please do something against the cold, though? I swear I'll freeze to death before he'll come back otherwise."

There was a grunt and a groan as Geralt got back up and swayed towards a chest nestled neatly between a bookcase and the wall. Soon after a blanket got dropped on Jaskiers shoulders, big, shaking hands wrapping the wool around him more securily.

The air was tense as Geralt kept fussing with the blanket and Jaskier tried to keep as still as possible, least he gave into the urge to drag Geralt into his lap. His Witcher wasn't a wolf anymore, he was pretty sure the rules had changed again, too.

"Uhm... So..." Words failed him. Of course words failed him now. Maybe he should just suffer through this weird close-but-not-close-enoughness in silence. Pfff. What was he talking about. He was a bard. No way. "How are the others?"

"Uh... Coping?" Geralt fumbled some more with the wool, ears twitching in a sad attempt to imitate the cute swivel his wolf ears had been capable of.

Jaskier knew in an instant what he was talking about and wanted to hug all of them even more than before.

"Geralt! You're dripping shit all over the library. Get out and clean up."

Said Witcher pulled back with a whine that sounded more wolf like than human, ears twitching again as though they wanted to pull back. This time Jaskier couldn't resist reaching out and at least squeeze Geralts shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

"He's right, you know. You'll catch your death. Go on."

"Fine." Geralt huffed, standing up again in halting movements and casting hesitant glances back at Jaskier all the while.

Vesemir shouldered past him with a shake of his head and took Geralts former place. "Foot, bard."

"Yes sir."

After first aid had been applied, Vesemir helped him hobble to the room he was allowed to inhabit during his stay. By the time they had made it up the stairs and Jaskier was deposited on the bed he felt like shit, throat scratchy and breathing coming out laboured.

Vesemir gave him another once over and promptly smothered him under a mountain of blankets, barking at him to stay put. And for once in his life, Jaskier obeyed.

~~~

It was just his luck to catch a cold, when he should have been energetic and chipper and reassuring his new friends that they were still loved even without all the fur. He was stuck in bed though, feeling weak and miserable, his attention alternating between the pain in his ankle to his headache and sore throat, mind too weak to come up with even the simplest of lyrics.

Most of the time he was alone. Vesemir came in even intervalls with tea, broth and more healing salves and potions especially made for humans. He was a gruff but gentle fellow not unlike Geralt and he was visibly annoyed at his pups behavior.

Pups... Jaskier still couldn't get rid of the wolf terminology in his head. Thankfully his voice was as good as gone so he couldn't slip up while talking, but the way he continued to think about the other Witchers concerned him. He didn't want to accidently say something that would make anyone even more uncomfortable.

"How are you feeling?"

Ah, there was his White Wolf, loyal and awkward as ever. Three days had gone by and Geralt still didn't walk quite right. Sometimes he would change back into whines and growls instead of hums and grunts, too. Not that it mattered much to Jaskier. He was fluent in both at this point.

But it embarassed Geralt every time, making him leave the room in a hurry with some half arsed excuse. He always came back, of course. Jaskier knew Geralt wanted to look after him, feeling responsible for Jaskiers current predicament. It was still annoying. Jaskier was bored out of his mind and in pain and Geralt only stayed for a few minutes tops before growing fidgety and abandoning his post.

And it always took so long for him to come back.

Of course, Jaskier understood the awkwardness. But that didn't make the loneliness any less bearable. As the hours ticked by without any of the others coming in to see him he grew furious that his pack wasn't with him when he needed them. He had stood by them through thick and thin. Why were they avoiding him now?

At one point, feeling especially petty, he wrote down what he remembered of the Faes letter to him. He didn't have an exact memory of it, but especially Springs part had been burned into his mind for the most part. And the rhyme scheme wasn't that important for the moment anyway. It was enough to have the directions to the midsummer festival at hand. Jaskier didn't plan on going, but it was good blackmail material.

Geralt narrowed his eyes at him and came closer. He didn't come to sit on the bed, like Jaskier desperately wanted him to. He knelt down at Jaskiers side instead, one hand on the edge of the mattress and the other planted on the floor.

"You're scheming."

"Where are the others?" Jaskier croaked back instead.

Geralt looked pained, his hand reaching out to paw at Jaskiers sleeve in a hesitant attempt to comfort him. "Around. Coping."

"Why aren't they here?"

The whine should have come from him not Geralt. It still pulled at his heart strings and made his hand twitch to cover Geralts. The touch was allowed, even though Jaskier could feel the fingers underneath his fidget.

"They're... afraid."

"They're stupid, that's what they are!" Jaskier tried to yell, but only ended up in a coughing fit.

A mug of tea was pressed in his hands, holding them still and aiding Jaskier to drink while he shook and hacked up more flegm.

"Thanks..."

"Hmrrr."

They stared at each other for a moment, honey coloured eyes gazing up at him with a fondness that nearly overwhelmed Jaskier.

"You're right, you know." Geralt whispered, squeezing Jaskiers hand before standing back up.

"I always am."

One side of Geralts lips quirked upwards as he looked back over his shoulder, already halfway out the door again. "I'd say that's a myth."

Jaskier poked his tongue out at him, gaining a short huff of a laugh. "You'll talk to them then?"

Geralt tilted his head in a nod. "Working on it."

~~~

Whatever Geralt was doing to get his two brothers to get their head out of their arses it definitely wasn't working. More days passed without any of them showing up. Geralt came and went in short bursts, speaking less than ever and only touching were it was really necessary.

Jaskier got his voice back eventually and he used it to complain until Vesemir told him in no uncertain terms that he would be left alone permanently if he didn't shut up.

But his woes were heard nonetheless. Vesemir appeared in his room more and more often and for longer periods of time. Keeping Jaskier company when no one else seemed to want to. The grandmaster of the keep took the lead in their conversations as Jaskiers voice grew stronger again, mostly so his new charge wouldn't immediately overuse it.

When Jaskier was finally strong enough to get out of bed he was led to the great hall to get food and was delighted to find that either Geralt or Vesemir had bullied Eskel and Lambert into joining them.

It was the first time he saw them in their human forms and it was one hell of a sight. They were both sitting close to each other, hunched over and looking anywhere but at Jaskier. It gave Jaskier the perfect opportunity to stare.

He didn't care that he was being rude at this point. Those absolute morons owed him a good ogling after denying him their company for so long. And damn was there much to drink in. They both looked so different from any Witcher Jaskier had ever seen before and yet were so obviously from the School of the Wolf.

They were familiar and yet strangers. Jaskier knew the shape of the scars on their faces, had memorised the feel of them under his fingertips. He wondered if their hair would have the same texture as their fur had been.

He wondered if they would lean into his touches as they had in wolf form.

Ack, no! Bad bard.

Jaskier shook his head and sat down opposite them, whipping out a smile that showed too many teeth to be called friendly.

"Eskel, Lambert! I'm happy to finally meet you."

The accusation in his tone was evident and it was almost comical how Jaskiers words made the two strong Witchers recoil slightly. A frail human, intimidating the apex predators of humanity! No one would believe him if he told the tale.

"Come on you two. I raised you better than that." Vesemir barked at them, he and Geralt loading the table with food stuff. Mostly meat, Jaskier noticed.

Eskel glanced up and dared to risk a quick look at Jaskier, the unmarred half of his face pulling into a parody of a smile.

"It is good to see you well."

"Yes. Same." Lambert added, finally settling his eyes on Jaskier as well. He didn't immediately avert them like Eskel, but it was clear that he was struggling.

"Why thank you." Jaskier sniffed, ignoring their obvious discomfort. They would flee the situation soon enough no matter what he did. And he had no patience left to be gentle. "I had a wonderful caretaker, who actually showed up and kept me company for longer than a few seconds."

The round of pitiful whines was so familiar that Jaskier nearly fell back on cooing and reassuring his pack with pets and cuddles. Thankfully everyone sat too far away for him to reach. The noise, apparently was already horrifying enough for the Witchers.

"You stay and eat or I swear you'll go hungry for the next week and run the walls for two more." Vesemir growled and put a quick stop to the escape of his pups.

Grumbling they all sat back down and began to wolf down their food. Jaskier gritted his teeth against the tears the blatant refusal of his company brought into his eyes. He should have been prepared for this, he chided himself. He knew they would probably regret their actions as wolves. He should have been more careful, less touchy and openly affectionate-

"Now that we're all together. How about you tell me about what happened, bard?"

Blinking out of the whirlpool his thoughts had turned into Jaskier turned to Vesemir with a shy grin and a nod. He swept a short glance over the table, weighing his options, before deciding to just go for it and launching into their tale.

He didn't leave anything out. Fuck being polite.

"I swear you weren't this stupid last winter." Vesemir said in a voice devoid of all emotion. A sort of monotone drone that made even Jaskier feel afraid.

"I mean, we weren't exactly in our right mind." Eskel tried to defend their actions and even had the nerve to look at Jaskier for aid.

Jaskier ignored him in favour of the steak that he was still delicately dissecting with his very pointy fork and knife, lest he accidently stab someone with one or both of them.

„So you brought a bard of all things to do the heavy lifting for you.“

Jaskier rammed the fork in the juicy, half raw flesh hard enough to hit the plate underneath. „Hey, I did great!“

„He really did.“ Geralt agreed, inching closer to Jaskier but watching Jaskiers hands with a wary look.

„Did you learn nothing?“ Vesemir suddenly bellowed, slamming his fists on the table and making everyone flinch. „I explicitly told you when you set out: Do not fuck with the Fae!“

„Well we didn't fuck them.“ Lambert grumbled, glaring at what Jaskier would have called his surrogate father.

„One seemed really interested in fucking Jaskier though.“ Eskel added oh so helpfully. He had sat up a little straighther at this point, all his attention on Vesemir.

The growl from Geralt was ignored by all. Even Jaskier, who heard it and had to push down the flutter of his heart.

„It's called courting and they were very sweet about it.“ he retorted instead, voice sugary sweet.

Geralts growls only grew louder and more insistent. Lambert and Eskel were looking between Jaskier and their brother now, poised to flee, but waiting.

Jaskier stayed very still as an arm wound around his waist and pulled him into Geralts side, trying to look calm and collected and probably fooling no one with the way his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. He nearly lost his composure when a cold nose briefly brushed through his hair. And he just couldn‘t help leaning into the touch at least a little. It just had been so long since he last got affection from his pack. Fuck he really needed to get rid of that way of thinking.

They were humans. Humans. Well technically they were Witchers. But they definitely weren‘t wolves anymore.

Unfortunately for Jaskier, his movement broke Geralt out of whatever fit he was having. The warmth drew back, Geralt cleared his throat, excused himself and left, leaving a half eaten rabbit behind. His brothers send Jaskier one more, unreadable look and followed the White Wolfs example.

Vesemir shook his head as they went. „I swear they weren‘t this stupid before. Apologies. Come now, finish up your meal before it gets cold, I‘ll show you around the keep afterwards.“

Jaskier didn‘t need to be told twice, devouring his food like his life depended on it. Vesemir helped him up once he was done, leaving the clean up for later. And when Jaskier leaned a bit more into the stabilizing hold he didn‘t really need anymore... Well then that was his business entirely.

By the time his ankle started acting up again he had seen maybe a third of the fortress that had once housed hundreds of lost souls. The tour had been both over and underwhelming at once. Most of the formerly intimidating castle had been ruined by a siege. A loud, final boom of tragedy at the end of a long winding tale of abandonment, hurt and death.

The grounds were too big for just four people to care for as well. Especially because they weren‘t here fulltime and the little magic they knew didn‘t exactly help them with the upkeep. Which meant a lot of half rotten, barricaded rooms, floors and halls. There was rubble everywhere, moss and other plants taking back what ground had once been theirs.

What still stood of the buildings though, Jaskier could only imagine the brilliance of the structures at the peak of Kaer Morhens days. The walls held so much potential in them still. There were warm, inhabited places, rooms tiled with dazzling mosaics and open fireplaces, archways leading out to huge balconies and with a view most kings would be jealous of.

The marvel that was Kaer Morhen held Jaskiers mind captive for a long while and Vesemir didn‘t tire of telling stories from the old days.

At night Jaskier sat down by the low fire in one of the smaller libraries that was still in use. His head was swimming with ideas and he was scratching away almost fanatically in his little notebook.

Vesemir had left him alone to chew over all the information he had given him that day, warning him not to stay awake much longer, for the nights were still cold and he didn‘t want Jaskier to freeze in some abandoned hallway.

Just like with his biological father, Jaskier didn‘t listen. He was too absorbed in his task to notice the passing of time, or anything else than the words and melodies that bloomed like wildflowers on his paper.

Thus he also didn‘t notice the soft footsteps nearing his location. Neither did he see the figure hesitating, for a long time, in the doorway.

He did, however, hear the growl of frustration and had just enough time to throw away his notebook and pen before he was barreled into by a hulking, dark form.

Jaskier blinked down at the head that was currently pressing into his chest as though it wanted to get in there. He tried to shift a little to get the two of them more comfortable, but that only resulted in arms tightening their hold and a whine that sounded far removed from happy.

„Lambert?“

„Fuck off and pet me.“

„I can only do one of those things… Puppy.“ Jaskier chuckled, eagerly running his hands through the hair of the grumbling man in his lap, trailing them down Lamberts neck and shoulders, tightening the embrace a bit before resuming his petting with light strokes and tiny rubs that could almost be considered a massage.

Lambert was putty in his hands in seconds, crawling impossibly closer, head coming up to sniff at Jaskiers neck.

Lambert let out a satisfied rumble. „Fuck you.“

„That‘s Geralts privilege, dear.“ Jaskier teased, feeling safe in the knowledge that Geralt wasn‘t there to listen in on them and high off the physical contact that had been denied to him for far too long after the constant cuddles from his pack in the last weeks.

„Hmph, of course it is. This is alright though? Not weird?“

Jaskier couldn‘t deny him the little kiss to the side of his head. „Not at all. As long as you like it?“

Hands traced up and down Jaskiers back, both of them shifting to lay down on their side so they wouldn‘t need to bend over so much anymore.

As they curled up around each other Lambert began to nuzzle Jaskiers collarbone and throat in earnest, obviously still unable to fully control his wolfish instincts. „I like it.“

Much, much later, in the early morning hours, Jaskier got back to his room feeling happy and light. He was humming a song that was halfway to being done as he stepped through the threshold to his room. He paused as he registered Geralt standing beside his fireplace, door falling closed behind him with a resounding thud.

"Did you mean it?" Geralt asked before Jaskier could even open his mouth, using that low half-growl that he had adapted after shifting back.

"Did I mean what?"

"The privilege."

Jaskier was a weather hardened flirt and had barely any shame left, but the knowledge that his love of five years had overheard him saying that made even him blush.

Geralt sniffed in his direction at that and took a curious step forward. "Did you?"

Well here went nothing. "Yes."

The happy little noise that was delivered to his ears via airstream was the best thing Jaskier had heard in his entire life. It didn't take long before he had one very eager Witcher crowding into his space.

"I want to use my privelege now. Is that alright?"

"Yessss." Jaskier breathed, pulling at the silky strands of white as Geralt ran his nose up and down his neck. "Perfect."

Jaskier was thrown out of his loop of bliss when Geralt suddenly recoiled with a growl. "You cuddled Lambert."

Jaskier had to blink a few times to get rid of the haze. "Well yes. He was braver than any of you. He earned it."

Geralt made a grimace. "You smell like him now."

Chuckling Jaskier pulled him back to him again and bumped their foreheads together. "Then do something about it."

They both leaned in, Jaskier tongue shooting out to wet his lips before they would finally-

"Ewww! Geralt!"

"Sorry! I got excited."

Jaskier just couldn't. He broke out laughing at the horrified look his partner was giving him, while still rubbing at his cheek where Geralt had just licked him.

"Wolf." he giggled. "That's not how you use your tongue, dear heart."

Gaining back his composure Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh really?"

"Hmhm. You can lick other places with that."

The smirk that appeared on his beloveds face made Jaskier squirm in Geralts hold.

"Is that so?" he purred tapping the tip of Jaskiers nose with his own, before diving in and licking it. "You mean here?" Another quick lick, this time over Jaskiers right brow. "Or here?"

"Geralt!" Jaskier screeched, caught between laughing and being thoroughly disgusted at the wet, cold tongue smearing saliva all over his face. "Gross!"

Suffice it to say that Geralt didn't get to use his priveleges that night, but neither cared much for it. The cuddling was more than enough for now.

~~~

The next day, Jaskier managed two steps into the kitchen before being assaulted by Lambert, who scooped him up and off the ground in a bear hug and proceeded to rub his face all over him.

"Lambert! Put him down!" Eskel shouted in alarm, half standing from his seat at the kitchen table.

"Never! It's payback for him carrying us around all the time! And he smells like that prick Geralt now. Have to rectify that."

Jaskier, for his part accepted his fate with all the grace of an overly dramatic bard. He slumped over with an exaggerated groan. "Woe is me! I only meant to ease your pain in a time of anguish and uncertainty! And this is how I'm to be thanked!"

He then proceeded to pat Lambert everywhere he could reach, because who was he to turn down free hugs.

Lambert let out a happy little whine and plopped him back down. "There. Now the only thing that's missing is Eskels smell."

Both looked curiously at their last member of the pack. Eskel had stood up in full at this point, hovering nervously close to the two of them. Hesitantly he came to them and wound his arms around Jaskiers waist as Lambert stepped back.

Jaskier felt a slight nudge at the crown of his head. "Is this really okay? You and Geralt... this won't make him angry?"

Jaskier leaned into his touch and threw his arms around Eskels neck, enjoying his first feel of Eskel in his Witcher form. "All is well. Don't worry."

"Are you sure?" Eskel pulled back a little so he could look into Jaskiers eyes. "I know this isn't exactly normal human behavior. And we never were this affectionate before. Touch has never been high on our   list of priorities."

"Oh darling." Jaskier murmured, framing Eskels face with both of his hands. "If I wanted normal I wouldn't follow around a Witcher. I enjoy this and will always be willing to provide you with affection as long as you want and with as much as you feel comfortable with."

He heard twin sighs of relief and soon a second pair of arms joined the first as both Eskel and Lambert decided to bask in Jaskiers warmth for a bit longer.

"Hey that is my bard." Was the first thing Geralt said when he stepped into the kitchen behind Vesemir.

"He's ours, jackass." Lambert growled. "He's pack, he's supposed to smell like all of us."

Geralt growled at him, but that only made both Eskel and Lambert hold onto Jaskier tighter.

"He is my partner now. Most of all he's supposed to smell like me."

"I swear if you start pissing on the bard I will throw you out the window." Vesemir muttered, moving past them to get to the pantry.

Jaskier shuddered at the mental picture and began to squirm out of Lamberts and Eskels hold. "If they do I'll throw them out myself."

Hands and arms fell from him without much prompting and Jaskier skipped over to his lover to give him a chaste good morning kiss.

"Come now you three. Breakfast. I'm hungry."

Later that day, after Vesemir had ran his pups through some basic training drills to get them used to their human bodies again they met up in the library. Geralt, as always, was quick to seek out Jaskiers touch. Eskel and Lambert, despite all their bravour in the morning, settled further away at first, before getting a look from both Geralt and Jaskier.

Arranging in a pile that was comfortable for all of them took a bit of time, several minutes of cursing and shoving at each other and one mini brawling match between Lambert and Geralt. And even once they had all settled down the awkward silence was occasionally interrupted by sharp snipes and bantering.

The awkwardness faded the longer they stayed pressed close to each other though, tension draining from shoulders and heads knocking together gently, his Witchers carefully testing the waters on how much affection was acceptable to show to their brothers without being teased or reprimanded for it.

The quiet turned comfortable and Jaskier melted into the ever shifting pile of limbs. He loved this, but he did kinda miss the fur between his fingers and the happy panting of wolves.

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"What would you say if I bought us a dog?"

Three bodies recoiled from him in perfect synch and three pairs of matching yellow eyes stared at him with something akin to terror in them. "No!"

Jaskier pouted, tugging on their clothes to get them to come back and continue to cuddle him.

"Fine- Ewww Geralt stop fucking licking me! I get it you're dog enough, jee- Lambert, Eskel no!"

Alright, no dogs for him, Jaskier mused as he laughed, trying to squirm out of the cage of arms to escape the insistant washing his three packmates bestowed upon him.

He could live with what he had. ___

The End~

... At least for this part. I’m already getting ready to write a sequel. In the meantime I'm thinking about writing some small oneshots about what happens in the Keep while the three recuperate and get used to their human bodies again. Is there something you'd like to read? Feel free to send some prompts~

Depending on how much input I'll get I'll either open up a part filled with drabbles or hang the prompts I feel fit the story pattern at the beginning of the sequel.

@batmanzplan​ @aj-that-person​

Also on AO3

#herdingwolves #the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #vesemir #animal transformation #fluff #kaer morhen #geraskier #my writing #seraswriting #fanfiction

[seralyra]

Snatch up the Bard

Pack Building Part 4

This prompt is from NatsumiKirklandJones again: "Frankly speaking I wouldn't be surprised if the wolves fight for the duty of carrying Jaskier around [...]" ___

Everyones posture was still much more of a nightmare than a dream. That's what Vesemir had said. And Jaskier was inclined to agree. His wolves still saw the floor as some sort of safe haven. Straight backs were only for moments of total awareness. Their hands, too, sometimes wouldn't work as they should. It was especially funny when they forgot that they actually had thumbs to use again.

Well, funny for Jaskier, everyone else just found it annoying. It did get better, though. For all the fallen swords and crouched backs there were forks and spoons used and stairs taken with two legs. The growls and whines had diminished somewhat. They hadn't disappeared completely, but at least words didn't dissolve into yelps or growls anymore (much).

Vesemir was currently working his former students in the courtyard. But not with swords or signs. No, all of them had a barrel on their head and were made to walk rounds without them falling down.

Jaskier was sitting on one of the lower walls and watched the whole thing with barely hidden amusement. He had seen that method used on his sisters when he had still been a child, drilling perfect posture into young bodies. That time books had been used instead of barrels, but Jaskier understood that every tome squirreled away in the keep was worth too much to be used for flimsy training.

He had, had the pleasure of reading a few in his time here. His ankle was still not fully healed, pounding with pain most nights and making it hard to fall asleep. Walking was possible, but no fun, especially when he had to navigate over uneven ground.

Vesemir and Geralt had assured him that it was healing fine, but Jaskier still worried. He had had injuries as a child that refused to heal for months on end. Ever since than he had been queasy around blood and had become prone to worrying too much even about minor cuts and scrapes.

That didn't make him a more careful person, of course. But he wouldn't have sat in the home of the wolves had he been.

One of the barrels crashed to the floor and rolled down the rampart, landing in the muddy ground with a thud. This was followed by a lot of cursing. Lambert jumped down from where he had been to check his barrel, while Eskel and Geralt grinned and Vesemir shook his head with a sigh.

"From the beginning Lambert. And two additional rounds."

"This is bullshit!"

Jaskier winced at the volume of the cry and tensed. Lamberts rages were never a pretty thing to witness. Few and far between as they were. Eskel had taken off his barrel and made to go to Lambert, but Geralt held him back with a shake of his head.

"Lambert." Vesemir said in a warning tone, staring the youngest wolf down. Lambert kicked the barrel in defiance. "It is! This is so much easier when it's Jaskier."

Everyone looked at Lambert as if he had gone crazy and Jaskier started gnawing at his lip as the tension in the air rose.

"And what's that supposed to mean?", asked Vesemir after a bit, clearly unsure if he should even  indulge Lamberts mood. It seemed old age had made the man soft. Or maybe the stubbornness of his pack had just made him tired. Jaskier could see both of those options being the case and vowed to make the man his favourite tea in the evening, maybe give him a little massage if he was allowed the contact.

Anger snuffed out as quickly as it had surfaced, only leaving behind a pile of grumpiness, Lambert shrugged. "It's just easier to keep a straight back while carrying Jaskier, is all I'm saying."

"You just want to carry Jaskier." Geralt grumbled, face pulled back into a half snarl. Now it was Eskel, who held him back. It wouldn't do for the White Wolf to glue himself to Jaskiers side again. It had already happened once and it had been a nightmare to get him away from the flustered bard.

"No! I'm serious!"

"Proof it then." Eskel said, hold on Geralt tightening as he nodded at Jaskier in encouragement.

Vesemir looked up to the sky, but didn't make a move to stop him. And Jaskier? Well he sat still and let himself be picked up by Lambert, resigned to be used as a training dummy for the day.

Lambert slid an arm around his shoulders and one under his legs and carefully pulled him against his chest, straightening up immediately.

He nodded to his two brothers, already much calmer now that he was allowed to proof his point. "We can continue."

Eskel and Geralt put their barrels back on their heads and started walking again. Lambert followed, Jaskier sinking into his warmth while Vesemir watched them all like a hawk.

"Huh." was his surprised verdict after three more rounds had been done.

Geralt had lost his barrel twice and Eskel four more times, his heighth giving him a disadvantage in the balancing act. Lamberts back had been straight the whole time. He hadn't slouched once.

"Lambert, do one more round with Jaskier and a barrel."

Geralt was the one to put the barrel on Lamberts head, growling at him all the while and rubbing against Jaskiers cheek when he was done. Lambert grinned at him, a mean glint in his eyes and Jaskier wondered if this was supposed to be payback for the Aard incident.

It soon turned out that, this was not the case. Or at least could only be half true. For that round the barrel stayed firmly on Lamberts head, barely even wobbling. Everyone was impressed.

"This is amazing!" Eskel breathed, eyes wide, mouth stretched in that charming, lopsided smile of his. "There's just one tiny, little thing. There are three of us and only one of Jaskier."

"We can take turns carrying each other." Geralt proposed eyeing Lambert up and down.

Lambert, in turn, snarled at him and pulled Jaskier closer. "Piss off!"

"You can always carry me like your bride, Geralt." Eskel joked, clapping him on the back.

"Hm. I'd break my back."

"Are you trying to say I'm fat?" came an answering gasp, Eskel putting a hand to his chest and bending backwards as if he had been hit by an arrow.

Jaskier snickered at Eskels theatrics. They should stage a play together sometime. Eskel would make a great actor.

"I'm saying you're a bear and too heavy."

"Stop it you two. This is my training ground, I make the rules. Lambert let Jaskier down. All three of you, ten more rounds with the barrels. The one who looses the barrel the least can carry Jaskier tomorrow for the first half of training. On the second half we'll hash out who gets Jaskier next time. You okay with that Jaskier?"

Vesemir had taken up the pose of the mentor, arms crossed, chest puffed out and feet planted into the ground a hip length apart from each other. The stance radiated pure dominance and coppled with the stern, hard eyed gaze, it worked like a charm.

Three hardened, quarrel happy Witchers fell silent and nodded their assent, all eyes shifting towards Jaskier, who bore the attention like a true bard. With a smile.

"I'll gladly help where I can."

He was awarded a small uptick of lips from Vesemir for that. Lambert sat him down on his former spot on the wall and Vesemir actually joined him this time. Both watched with growing amusement as the pups started riling each other up, always happy for a good challenge. And the privilege of carrying Jaskier was a truly great prize, too.

"Stay at a sedate pace, you damn lot! Get the fundamentals right before you start running around and make your posture worse again!"

Eskel whooped when he was the one to win Jaskier for the day.

~~~

This went on for two more days, walking turning into jogging, although Vesemir was always sure to let them warm up with a slow pace to review their basic stance. Jaskier was enjoying the training immensely. Yes it was early and sometimes really fucking cold, but his pack always lit up at seeing him and everyone was careful not to jostle him too much while using him as a balancing rod.

Neither he nor Vesemir should have been surprised that the game escalated. But they were. It was even more of a shock that Eskel started it all.

The question had been innocent enough. Eskel had approached him during one of his many practice sessions, shy but daring as always and Jaskier had been happy to place his lute aside and hug him.

"Can I pick you up?" Eskel had whispered into his ear, bent down over Jaskier with his arms around the bards torso.

"Of course. Just don't forget my lute."

One arm stayed where it was and the other slid down, hoisting Jaskier up in a familiar notion that never failed to make Jaskiers heart flutter. Bending down once more Eskel let Jaskier take a hold of his lute before moving away from the balcony and further into the keep, a pleased rumble sending little tingles of bliss through Jaskiers body. Or maybe that was just Eskels excess magic.

"Where are you planning to take me, Fluff?" Jaskier teased, grinning brightly at the faint blush the nickname coaxed out of Eskel.

"Your room to store the lute away. And then... Just wandering through the keep? Getting rid of excess energy I guess. I'm not used to staying cooped up for so long outside of winter."

Jaskier settled more comfortably against the broad chest, one arm swung around Eskels neck, the other cradling his lute close.

"Whatever makes you most comfortable, dear."

Jaskier could feel Eskels smile against his cheek. "Thank you. This isn't too awkward, though? Being carried around like that. Please tell us if we get too... Inhuman. The last thing we want to do is freak you out."

Damn these beautiful, kind men. How could they have gone through so much and still turned out to be so charming? Jaskier really was a goner. He loved them all so much. Not like he loved Geralt, of course. Geralt would always hold a special place in his heart. But Eskel, Lambert and maybe even Vesemir were part of his family, his pack and he would gladly die for them.

"We're living in a world where winged fish ladies lure seaman out with beautiful songs to drown and eat them, where people can be cursed to turn into wolves at the fullmoon and magic does all kind of weird stuff. I've been following Geralt around for five whole years and while I might not be as seasoned as you, I already saw quite a lot of stuff."

Jaskier hugged Eskel close as best he could, bestowing a feather light kiss on the crown of his head. "I'm used to not normal, prefer it even, in most cases. You are all sweet and caring and I love receiving affection as much as I love giving it. You're doing fine."

Eskel huffed out a laugh under him. "A simple 'It's not awkward' would have sufficed. But the speech was nice, too. I guess."

"He guesses." Jaskier groaned. "I spill my heart and only get scorn for it. Fine then. It's not awkward at all, please continue. Better?"

"Hm. I like both."

They bantered a bit as they went, both filling the space around them with idle chatter. Jaskiers lute was soon stowed away and they were off wandering through the halls. It was a trip not unlike the one Vesemir had taken him on. Only that now he got to be carried and didn't need to hobble along with gritted teeth.

It thus turned out to be a much longer one, Eskel taking him through parts he wouldn't have been able to access on his own. It was fun, like exploring the caves near the ocean with his sisters when they were still children.

And then they ran into Geralt. Everything went downhill from there.

"What are you doing with Jaskier? I was looking for him all over."

Probably to get in some additional love, Geralt didn't say but both Eskel and Jaskier could guess.

"I was just taking him for a walk."

He received a growl for that quip. "He isn't a fucking dog."

Geralt stalking closer and grabbing for Jaskier. But his hands met air. Eskel danced out of the way, Jaskier secure in his grasp.

"Excuse me, but-"

"No, no. I get him now, learn to share and go try your luck with Lambert again."

The vicious snarl send a shiver down Jaskiers spine and he gripped tighter onto Eskels shoulder. Geralt lunged forward, but again Eskel was faster, laughing at the obvious frustration of his brother.

"Guys!" Jaskier squeaked at the sudden movements. He had thought being under two posturing wolves was terrifying. But it had nothing on being in between two quarreling Witchers. Especially when only one was being playful.

"He's my mate! Give him to me!"

Oh... That. Now if that didn't just stop his heart for a few seconds there.

"You have to catch me first!"

Jaskier sighed as he was hauled away, Eskel sprinting as fast as he could with his precious cargo, Geralt charging after him like a bull seeing red. Reluctantly he resigned himself to his fate, sure that his feet wouldn't be touching the ground today anytime soon.

Of course it didn't take long for Lambert to join the hunt.

And just like that, a brand new game of "Snatch up the Bard" had begun.

For the first time in a while Jaskier started to get a bit annoyed at his packs antics. Their enthusiasm to pick Jaskier up and carry him off hindered him from getting anything done. It felt like if he so much as picked up his notebook to write anything down, one of the wolves would be there, throwing him over their shoulder and running off.

He had giving up on practicing the lute after it had nearly been smashed to pieces when Lambert had been a bit too hasty one day. Eskel was still the most polite of them all, careful to not yank him around too much. But even he had stopped asking for permission.

Vesemir had at least yelled at them to stop their games at the dinner table and to let Jaskier eat in peace. But after that all bets were off again.

His patience was waning. Mood souring to the point that not even cuddles and sex could cheer him up anymore. His pack didn't seem to notice, high off the adrenalin from the hunt, panting and exhausted.

He had even gone so far as to hide in unused rooms to get a bit of solitude from the chaos his playful packmates caused. But to no avail. They sniffed him out eventually, probably even believing it to be part of the game.

Damn it all he really needed to talk to them. He just hated to spoil their fun like that. Fuck he had gotten so soft for them.

In the end it was Vesemir who snapped first, when the two of them had bunkered down in front of the fireplace, Jaskier still being allowed the special armchair. They had both been drinking a special blend of soothing tea and had basked in the quiet of the late afternoon, close to dozing off when Geralt had come in, Eskel and Lambert hot on his heel.

The discontent noise Jaskier let out at being picked up was the last straw for Vesemir.

"Let him down, now!"

The bellow was loud enough to shake the walls of the keep and Geralt was so shocked that he immediately let go of Jaskier. The bard, in turn, hadn't expected the sudden pull of gravity on his person and landed badly on his feet.

A sharp spike of pain shot through his leg and up his spine, the force of it sending him down. A strangled scream, even parts surprise and hurt, left him as he curled up over his injury, both hands closing around his throbbing ankle.

"Shit Jaskier, I'm-"

"Get away from him!" Vesemir ordered, now up as well, shoving himself between Geralt and Jaskier.

Geralt bared his teeth at him, but Vesemir would have none of it.

"I thought I raised you lot better than this! He's not your damn toy. Go! Think about what you've done wrong."

All three hesitated, eyes wide and apparently frozen to the spot. Geralt still stood tall, ready to defend his position and force his way to Jaskier if he had to.

"Are you deaf?!" Vesemir shouted right into his face. "Scram!"

Desperate whines rose, their plight doubled when they started to smell the salt of tears. Jaskier gulped back a sob. He needed to reassure his packmates or this would escalate.

He looked up at them, careful to meet their gazes one after another, forcing a shadow of a smile onto his face for them. "Please do as he says?"

His quietly spoken plea did the trick. They retreated, casting glances back at Vesemir and Jaskier every few steps, mouths moving without ever letting out a sound. The door closed slowly behind them until they finally were left alone.

"Those three..." Vesemir sighed, suddenly sounding decades older. "Now we two need to have a talk I believe. But first let me look at that, see if Geralt didn't make it worse. I know you must have quite enough of it at this point, but would you mind me carrying you to my room? They won't be able to interrupt us there."

"Sounds good." Jaskier forced out between the waves of pain and was promptly carried off.

Vesemir sat him on a bed that nearly spanned the whole room and wrapped him in a thick blanket.

"You need to be firmer with them, lad. Or they'll walk all over you." he chasticed as he got the fire going.

"I know..." Jaskier sniffed, feeling like a small, defenseless child all over again. "I just didn't want to ruin their fun and hurt their feelings." He was happy they trusted him so much now, enough to show their playful side again.

"Your feelings are just as valid as theirs." Vesemir gently told him, crouching down to once again to examine Jaskier foot. "Hm, it's not swelling again, you might just have gotten lucky. I'll apply some salve for good measure, though. Better safe than sorry."

Jaskier breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Jaskier watched Vesemir rummage through his drawers for a while, before finding the courage to speak up again. "How do you do it? Be so fierce when drawing lines and laying out rules?"

"Just like you do when you actually set your mind to it. You tell them off all the time, when they try to rile each other up. And they actually listen to you. Now you only need to apply the same fiery attitude in times were it matters to you, too."

"But how do I do that?"

Vesemir gave him a look, hands now spreading a cool, greenish paste over the red and blue skin of his ankel. "You know, I wanted to exchange some strategies on how to handle them better with you anyway. But first let me get the tea. It would be a shame if it got cold."

They emerged from Vesemirs quarters hours later, both in a much better mood. Jaskiers ankle had stopped throbbing and so he confidently walked to his and Geralts shared room. What he found there nearly made him coo.

The blanket and pillows from the bed had been added to the nest, where his three packmembers had all crammed together, Geralt in the middle and Lambert and Eskel curled protectively against him on either side.

Their attention snapped to him as soon as he entered, three pairs of molten gold staring at him with something akin to fear. As though he would ever have the heart to ban them from the room.

"Hello there. This looks cozy. Mind if I join?" He whispered to them, his voice low and warm as he approached them with small steps.

Eskel and Geralt stretched out their arms to him, while Lambert looked on, still wary. Jaskier gave them all a smile, settled against Geralts chest and was immediately embraced on all sides, noses poking at his head and neck insistantly. Finally making sure that he was actually content.

"We're sorry." Eskel finally whispered into the waning light of the dying embers.

"I know."

"We shouldn't have let our instincts take over like that." Geralt said at the same time Lambert asked "How is your ankle?"

Jaskier huffed out a laugh and buried further into their warmth. "I should have told you to stop sooner, too. Let's do better next time yeah? And no picking me up at random anymore, at least not all the time. You already play your games on the training field. Let that be enough. Also my ankle is fine, thank you for asking Puppy."

General grumbles of agreement followed his statement. As well as grumbles of slight protest regarding the nickname from Lambert. Jaskier couldn't help but notice that Geralt had an iron grip on Lambert, preventing the man from moving into any other position. He had never seen Geralt this happy and relaxed before.

Jaskier shared the sentiment.

Now if only he could get the old wolf to join them, too.

___

@batmanzplan @aj-that-person

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #eskel #lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #herdingwolves #my writing #seraswriting #fanfiction #fluff #and maybe a bit of angst #just a smidget #to make the fluff sweeter

[seralyra]

Herding Wolves Chapter 13

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 _____

They boys finally get home. _____

With the main threats seemingly eliminated travelling inched towards the territory of fun once again. Jaskier was still on the lookout for trouble and his pack never strayed far from him. But most tension had fled from his body. As if Melitele herself had blessed their journey the weather too, made a turn for the better. A cool breeze had swept in not long after their departure, happy, white clouds dampening the harsh light of the sun. The mild shadows and playful tugging of the wind on his hair made the warm temperatures bearable and even send a pleasant shiver or two down his spine.

There was no need for him to make music. Jaskier for once happy to just walk and revel in the noises his companions made. Their stream of vocalisations accompanied by the rhythmic rustle of the leaves and the odd melodies of nature a perfect song in its own right.

The small path eventually disappeared into a bright green tapestry of moss and Geralt ventured off to the left, Lambert and Eskel headbutting Jaskiers tighs until he followed. His three wolves faithfully navigated him through the undergrowth, careful to never let him out of their sight. That is, until the treeline broke to reveal a meadow and their two wayward horses.

Jaskier huffed out a quiet laugh as his three companions bounded off towards Roach and Scorpion, their thick hides vanishing in the sea of tall, yellowed grass. Yelps, howls and happy whines escaped his packmates as they hopped and danced around their two equine friends, neither of which looked very impressed by their overenthusiastic greeting.

Roach offered Geralt only one half hearted nudge, that was more to shove him away from her patch of grass than a true welcome back. Jaskier was received much warmer in contrast. Her ears pricked forward as he approached her and soon she trotted up to him, snuffling into his chemise and shoving at his chest.

Jaskier had to hold onto her bridle to keep from falling over and dared to scratch at her forehead. "Sorry girl, I don't have any treats for you. Who dolled you up so well, hm?"

And truly Roach and Scorpion looked beautiful, dozens of flowers, berries and autumn leaves woven into their manes to create delicate ornaments. Jaskier carefully took stock of the materials used and couldn't find one harmful plant. A relief.

Roach stomped as Jaskier circled her, clearly unhappy that he didn't have anything for her. Jaskier hushed her with a smile and promised her apple slices and sugar cubes once they were near a town again. His sweet talk made her huff and snort, but she stood still so he could secure his lute to her saddle and check their bags.

While Jaskier took stock of their belongings Scorpion finally managed to break off from the playful wolves surrounding him and trotted over to Jaskier. A curious snout sniffed the small of his back with enough force to shove him into Roachs flank.

"No Scorpion. I don't have any sugar cubes for you either."

Scorpion nickered softly at him and turned to instead feast on the dry grass. Jaskier stroked over the stallions side once before getting back to business. All their stuff seemed to be in order. In fact there were two new additions.

In his bag he found a dagger, fine as a needle and light as a feather. It gleamed silver in the weak sunlight, the engravings on the hilt and thin blade artful enough to divert from the deadliness of the weapon. Tied to the hilt was a weathered parchment, which smelled faintly of sweet flowers.

Curious Geralt and Eskel had come over to him, while Lambert frolicked in the field and had the time of his life chasing Scorpion around. Although the stallion acted more like a grumpy old man indulging their youngest grandchild.

Shaking his head at Lamberts antics and ignoring the whines for attention from Geralt, Jaskier tucked the dagger away in its sheath and placed it back into the bag, unrolling the small scroll to read the message it contained.

The writing was as elegant as Jaskier had expected coming from a Fae, and the little poem was written entirely in Elder. Jaskier blushed a little as he read it. Spring had obviously penned the first half, heaping praise on the bard and detailing how Jaskier could reach the Fae Realm on midsummer. The next part was written in bronze ink and the verses contained a clipped apology for the trouble they had caused while still sounding smug as fuck.

The last part was obviously Winters. She told him to use the dagger wisely and to never mess with the Fae again or there would be dire consequences. Jaskier frowned at the two wolves sitting at his feet and waved the letter at them.

"You really managed to piss the Fae off good. We were so lucky that Spring took a shine to me." Glancing back at the first half of the poem Jaskier couldn't help but blush again. "I'm actually feeling a little bit courted right no-"

Without any warning Geralt pounced at him and pushed him over, howling in his face and tearing the letter from Jaskiers hand.

"Geralt! What the fuck?! Come back here! No! Bad wolf! Don't!"

Jaskier scrambled back to his feet and chased after Geralt, who had started to claw at the ground to dig a hole. Lambert, always up for causing trouble, soon joined his brother.

"Geralt, Lambert stop it this instant!" Jaskier bellowed, trying to get the parchment out of Geralts mouth without tearing it. "You'll just enrage the Fae again. And besides it's good poetry!"

Geralt snarled at him, ears pressed back against his skull and pulled his head away so Jaskier couldn't get a good hold of the parchment. Lambert was the only one digging now, dirt and bits of grass flying everywhere.

Eskel entered the scene with all the grace of an older sibling, who knew they had the moral highground. While Geralt was distracted by Jaskier he stole the letter from him and danced away from the sharp teeth that threatened to tear into his fur. A greatful smile was beginning to bloom on Jaskiers face, but it quickly disappeared when Eskel put a paw on the parchment and tore it in two by tugging at it with his snout.

Shocked Jaskier could only watch as his dear, sweet Eskel ate up the valuable letter and gave Geralt a lick before throwing a judging glare at Jaskier. He really was getting fluent in Witcher wolf because that look definitely spelled Stop being an idiot. Which was just rude. He wasn't the one being ridiculous!

"I thought you were better than this." Jaskier sniffed, offended and Eskels ears swivelled back for a brief second until Geralt came to nuzzle him.

Lambert let out an annoyed whine, covered head to toe with dirt, and not happy that all his work had been for naught. Jaskier nodded at him and ruffled his fur, causing a cloud of dust to swirl upwards into the air.

"You made a great hole, puppy. How about you take charge of preparing the fireplace from now on?"

The youngest of the three thumped his tail and growled playfully, which Jaskier took to mean that he accepted his new responsibility.

"Alright then. Let's see if we can't find out where we are."

~~~

They had to rest under the stars one more time before finding anything resembling civilization again. Which came in the form of a dusty road and a signpost. It seemed that they had found themselves in the woods nestled between the Buina and the Gwenllech and had walked the wrong way, which got them close to Yspaden. Jaskier debated dipping into the town to restock on supplies before daring the track up the Blue Mountains or if they should turn around and see if there were any villages on their way towards Kaer Morhen. The Witchers had to stock up somewhere right? And neither Yspaden nor Ard Carraigh seemed to be close enough to make sense.

In the end his packmates decided for him, leading him away from the road to Yspaden and up the trail towards who knew what. They were so close to their goal now, Jaskier mused. It should have made him excited, after all he missed Geralt, the human shaped version, quite a lot. But... loosing his pack would hurt.

Jaskier noticed that he wasn't the only one who dreaded the eventual return to normal. His wolves' cheer dimmed considerably over the next few days. They lagged behind, rubbed against him more and more, brought him sticks to play with them and demanded to be carried so often that Jaskiers arms were hurting from the strain. Of course this also meant more breaks, more quiet moments where Jaskier watched them play with each other. Geralt had been glued to his side the whole time, always in touching distance, whining and complaining when Jaskier told him to stay put when he wanted to relief himself.

They did find a village at the foot of the mountain range, where Jaskier could play for his room and sleep in a real, if shoddy bed for the last time until they would eventually arrive in Kaer Morhen. His pack hadn't been happy with his choice, given that they couldn't follow him into the village let alone the inn. But the quiet night alone did wonders to him. And maybe the hot bath had helped a tremendous amount, too.

The villagers looked after Jaskier when he left mumbling to each other. What was he doing? Was he crazy? The mountain would kill him. But no one stopped him. No one even so much as uttered one word of warning in his direction. And he was glad for it.

His pack waited for him just as civilization merged into nature. The mood had shifted again by then. They stood in line to greet him, bumping into his knees, tails wagging. But they didn't charge him, their playfulness gone. Jaskier thought they were sulking at first, but as the climb got steeper and the ground harder to traverse he wondered if it wasn't something else.

Jaskier held onto both Roach and Scorpion until the path got too thin, winding around a towering high cliff face with a lovely view into Kaer Morhen Valley and a nauseating drop down into the Gwenllech below. He trusted Roach to walk in front of him. She was calmer than Scorpion, who seemed to be new to the track and thus a bit more skittish.

Lambert and Eskel led the way with Geralt taking up the rear. Neither of them had sought out his touch for more than a day now. But as the track up got harder and harder and they drew ever closer to their final destination Jaskier understood. It wasn't just the harsh journey up, which needed all his senses on alert. It was also the looming threat of actually meeting Eskel and Lambert as proper Witchers.

At night, when they had found shelter in another cave and watched the sky cry, all their past interactions flashed before his eyes again. Awkwardness and dread rose with every careless command and petname he had uttered during their journey. How many times had he treated them like actual pets? Oh gods he had cuddled with them! And sure they had liked it in their wolf form, but once they were back to being full blown Witchers again? Jaskier wasn't sure how they would react. He feared Geralt would never look at him again, the embarassment of both of their actions going to haunt him forever.

Nervousness wasn't a good companion when one was climbing up one of the most dangerous paths in the continent. Especially when nature decided to be a dick. They had left the cliff path behind and had set foot on a rather even, muddy trail barely wide enough to fit two horses side by side, leading straight to the dark fortress looming on the horizon.

The dark clouds of the night before still hung around, drenching the land beneath them. Lightening  crashed through the darkness, tearing the sky apart. Thunder followed on its heels, booming and threatening. Small rivlets flowed down the mountain path, seperate arms joining until the ground was so soft and wet that Jaskier sunk into it up to his ankles.

That should have been enough warning. But with Kaer Morhen in sight the whole pack wanted nothing more than to press on through the worst. They always said anticipation is the greatest joy. But anticipation begot impatience and it was that, which broke many a mans neck.

The rain worsened, going from drenching to a full on assault from the heavens in the blink of an eye. The mud, already unstable and hard to navigate, suddenly turned into a current and washed away underneath him. Jaskier screamed as his feet got wrenched out from under him, desperately clinging to the reins of Scorpion and Roach. The two horses neighed in fright, barely able to fight against the oncoming mudslide. Geralt, Eskel and Lambert howled in alarm. They quickly surrounded Jaskier and the horses, yelping and growling, even resorting to snapping at Scorpions flank once or twice to steer them out of the dangerzone.

Jaskier fought to stay upright, everything around him dissolving into blurred, muted blotches of grey, green and brown as the wind blew wall after wall of water in his face. Something crashed into his right ankle, white hot pain searing through his leg. His scream was lost in the wails of nature. Destabilized his knees buckled. He was only kept from being swept away by Roach, whose flank he latched onto like a lifeline.

His heart swelled with pride as they made it out, hooves, paws and feet meeting slightly more steady ground. Every step he took hurt as though he was walking on an open wound, pinpricks of pain shooting up his spine and dutifully informing his brain that something was very wrong with a particular part of his body. They couldn't stay where they were though and after the miracle work Scorpion and Roach had done to drag Jaskier out of the mudslide he couldn't make either of them carry his weight.

His two equine friends were already panting, steam rising from their overheated bodies. Jaskier would need to look them over once they had gotten to safety. But for now they just had to move on.

Geralt, Eskel and Lambert carefully navigated them through the treacherous terrain. The three looked about the same now. All of them caked in mud from head to toe, no hint of their natural fur colour left. Jaskier knew he probably didn't look any better. He was shivering terribly, pain and exhaustion threatening to take his consciousness away. The sudden temperature shift from unbearably hot to nearly ice cold further confused his body and for a brief second he wondered if he would even make it to the keep.

But then there were the walls, towering in front of them. They couldn't reach the front gate, so Geralt had led them towards a side entrance, where they came to an abrupt stop. Jaskier blinked the water and black spots from his vision to see what was preventing them from entering.

In front of them stood what at first looked like a replica of Geralt in his human form. White hair and yellow eyes, body clad in traditional Witcher gear, silver sword out. Jaskier squinted at him and tried to pull his mind back out of the darkness enough to at least attempt to communicate.

"Apologies for the surprise visit!" he tried to yell, but it only came out as a croak.

The Witcher, bless their enhanced senses, still heard him. "What in Meliteles name are you doing here boy? What is this?!"

"Brought back your pups." was the only thing Jaskier could come up with, gesturing weakly towards the wolves, who had drawn a protective circle around him.

The Witcher took in the scene in front of him, gaze getting caught on the medallions on the wolves necks and the swords attached to the horses saddles.

"Shit. Get in here."

Jaskier made a shooing motion towards his wolves. "You heard him. Go on."

Three concerned whines answered him, but his command was obeyed and they sprinted past the Witcher and into the keep. Jaskier tried to hobble after them, while still somehow guiding the horses through the narrow opening. But the Witcher was faster. He stepped forward, looped an arm around Jaskiers back to stabilize him and cast what Jaskier thought could have been Axii on the horses to make them stay.

As they walked through the threshold they were greeted by three Witchers kneeling in the mud on all fours, looking very much disorientated, but thankfully fully clothed.

"Whooo it worked." was the last thing Jaskier could say before finally, mercifully, passing out.

____

I’m absolute shit at geography and estimating distances so apologies if I got anything wrong. Next chapter will be the last one!

@batmanzplan @aj-that-person

Also on AO3

#herdingwolves #the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #animal transformation #geraskier #wolf!geralt #wolf!eskel #wolf!lambert #vesemir #my writing #seraswriting #fanfiction #fanfic

[seralyra]

The Art of Cuddling Part 2: Too Close to the Fire

Herding Wolves Intermission Drabbles 3 Also on AO3 ___

Sleeping had become one of their favourite past times, now that they had upgraded their room. Fights occassionally brought out, of course. Neither Lambert, nor Eskel liked that Geralt was hogging Jaskier most of the time. And very rarely did Geralt feel the need to hold his brothers, which led to whining from Jaskier and oftentimes grumbling from Lambert.

Yes, Eskel was easy to convince to cuddle with. Lambert? Not so much. The youngest wolf had never quite accepted Geralt in his personal space, always growling and biting and being a right dick whenever Geralt tried to improve their relationship.

And while he had softened considerably over time and Geralt knew Lambert cared deeply for him the plain refusal for affection hurt sometimes. Especially because Lambert didn't seem to have the same beef with Eskel as he had with Geralt. Eskel was allowed close and could tease the younger man without necessarily getting something thrown at him.

Eskel could touch and cuddle the prickly bastard without fear of reprocussion. Geralt always needed to have Jaskier in between them for it to work, which was hard to manage given that no one wanted to leave Eskel out, least of all Geralt.

So nightly sleeping arrangements usally consisted of either Geralt pairing off with Jaskier and Eskel with Lambert or Jaskier accepting Lambert into his bed, while Geralt and Eskel curled up together.

Which meant that Geralt needed to find ways of getting Jaskier and Lambert alone with him during the day. A far more difficult feat than one would belief. It was a good thing Eskel and Vesemir had caught up to his brooding very quick. Sure Vesemir wasn't exactly happy to encourage yet another strange craving of his boys, but Eskel managed to coax him into playing along.

He was their mentor, after all. And if Eskel asked for a few more lessons and a bit of more training then who was Vesemir to refuse? And the two made for an unbeatable team when it came to preparing food, too.

So this is how Geralt found himself in the great hall, Jaskier savely bundled up at his side and staring down Lambert, who was sitting at one of the tables sorting through his Gwent deck.

Staying in the large hall like this wasn't exactly nice. With just the three of them here and nothing to distract them the largeness of it all came bearing down on him. It reminded him that this fortress had once been built to hold hundreds of young boys and weather beaten old wolves. And now there were only the four of them left, alone and dying out, struggling to make the best out of the lot life had given them.

If Geralt would just close his eyes he would have heard the pitter patter of small feet running over uneven stone. The laughter and screams from the courtyard. The shouting from gruff, but ultimately loving instructors just trying to prepare them for a world of pain and death as best as they could. The whistling of the whips and the smacks on bare flesh, punishment for unruly children.

Childhood had been a confusing mix of joy and hurt. Geralt could barely belief that he sometimes yearned for the days long past. When he had still been a chatty, cocky teenager and had gotten in all sorts of fights with the others, causing trouble with Eskel and one upping others in training.

He didn't close his eyes.

Lambert glanced over at him every few seconds, catching Geralts stare. He frowned when he smelled Geralts scent turning bitter. And while Jaskier didn't have the finely toned senses they had he must have felt the tenseness of his lover, for he pressed a soothing kiss against the underside of Geralts jaw.

Lambert watched the exchanged, frown staying in place all the while. He waited for Jaskier to get back to reading, the bard quiet for once, only mouthing the words on the thin paper now and then. And then Lamberts eyes travelled back up to meet Geralts.

"What?"

"You can sort your deck over here, too. You know?"

A steady gaze swept over them once again and Geralt held his breath, hoping beyond hope that the small invitation would be enough. Melitele must have been in a good mood that day. It only took a few minutes of consideration before Lambert took his cards and went over to them.

As always he sat down beside Jaskier and was welcomed with a smile. Geralt would have liked his little sibling on his side, but this was better than nothing. As soon as Lambert leaned into Jaskier seeking that sweet, joy inducing body contact, Geralt peeled the blanket back and threw it over Lambert as well, keeping his arm around the younger man afterwards.

Blessedly he didn't get snapped at for his move. And while his arm started to cramp after a few moments the pure bliss of being allowed to be close to his little brother like this made all the bad thoughts go away.

With a pleased rumble he closed his eyes, nose nuzzling into the side of Jaskiers neck, arm jostled every once in a while as Lambert started sorting out his Gwent deck again.

Geralt fowed to enjoy this moment as long as it lasted, with all the little discomforts. Memorize every twitch of muscle, every breath taken, the tingling where body touched body and the smell of family clogging up his nostrils.

Lunch would be served soon enough and the peace destroyed. Geralt could already smell something burning. Strange. Eskel and Vesemir never let anything burn...

Wait.

This didn't smell like meat at all.

Eyes snapping open he lifted his nose to sniff at the air. And then he saw the bit of black smoke coming from behind Lambert.

"Fuck! Lambert you're on fire!"

"Haha jackass. Won't fall for that. I'm sitting here now. You can't invite me and then try to chase me off-"

"No! He's right!" Jaskier screeched, having looked over as well and jumped up as soon as he saw the small flames licking at the blanket and the edge of Lamberts chemise.

With frantic movements Jaskier pulled Lambert away from the hearth. "Water. I'll go get-"

He trailed off running toward the kitchen as Lambert cursed and batted at the flames. Another pat at his burning butt and he was send flying halfway through the hall, cards whirling around after him.

"Fuck! Why did you Aard me, you bastard?!"

Geralt stood on their former cuddle spot, eyes blown wide and hand stretched out. "It blew the fire out."

That it did. Lambert wasn't especially grateful for that though. "My cards!"

Geralt looked around then, focussing especially at the fireplace. He scooped up the cards that had gotten too close to the flames for his liking, but none seemed to have fallen victim to the fire.

"They're fine."

"They're everywhere now!"

Fuck, Lambert was pissed. There went his cuddle priveleges. Maybe he could salvage the whole situation. "I'll help you pick them up."

"No you won't. Piss off."

"Everything alright?" Jaskier asked as he appeared again, a jug of water held in both hands.

"Hm."

Geralt didn't look at either of them, only stopped to rub his nose against Jaskiers on instinct, not wanting his mate... to think he was angry at him.

"Geralt where are you going?"

"Kitchen." the word dissolved into a growl half way through and Geralt felt his posture worsen again, hands wanting to touch the ground, none existant tail wanting to tug in between his legs.

Eskel took one look at him and stopped what he was doing to pull Geralt into a hug. "You look like a kicked puppy, did Lambert blow off at you?"

"Hm... Used Aard on him to put out the fire."

Somewhere in the corner Vesemir snorted. Geralt was distracted by the noise by a lick to his hairline by Eskel though.

"Damn it you, act at least a bit like the Witchers you are, will you?" Vesemir grumbled, not able to keep in a grimace at the display. "Geralt help out while you're here, the chicken needs to be shredded still."

Both brothers let go of each other, Eskel scraping his tongue on his teeth to get Geralts hair out of his mouth. Neither spoke as they set about fulfilling the tasks that they had been given. And while taking out his frustration on the poor dead chicken, occasionally sneaking a bite of heavenly meat, Geralt couldn't help but allow a small smile to form.

The whole thing may have blown up in his face, but the few minutes of bliss had been worth it.

___

@batmanzplan @aj-that-person Sorry I forgot to tag you the last two times >< There’s a page on my tumblr now where all fics are listed though, if you missed something and still want to read it.

Also feel free to tell me if you don’t want to be tagged anymore (or if someone also wants to be tagged) :)

#the witcher #cuddle piles #jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #herdingwolves #fluff #seraswriting #my writing #fanfiction

[seralyra]

The Art of Cuddling Part 1: Underprepared Sleeping Arrangements

Herding Wolves Intermission Drabbles Part: 2 Also on AO3

A/N: No real prompt per se, but there was a lot of asking for more cuddle piles so here you go! ___

The shift from a mind as instinct driven and thought free as a wolfs to one crippled with an array of doubts and fears was a crueling one. Especially when you were stuck halfway in the transition between beast and man, like Geralt and his brothers.

They had already been less human because of the trials, senses heightened, metabolism more effective, instincts sharper. But now they somehow had slid even more into the territory of "beast".

It was... unsettling. Yes, in many ways it was a nightmare. But...

Geralt looked down at Jaskier, who was snuffling and snorting in his sleep and was currently drooling all over Geralts collarbone. The whole situation had its benefits.

He would have never found out about his feelings for Jaskier any other way, too many years of tight control over his emotions and isolation from human kind barring his way to a timely realization.

Careful not to wake his ma- his lover, damn it wolf brain, he bend down and scented the soft curls of Jaskiers hair. Jaskiers scent, albeit a bit overripe, was the best. And one of the only cures for his insomnia, he had noticed.

He was drifting into a pleasant, dreamy haze, when the quiet creak of the door opening shocked him back into alertness. Instantly he tightened his hold on Jaskier and growled into the darkness, a warning for the intruder to back off.

"Calm your tits, it's just me." Lambert whispered, closing the door behind him as gently as possible.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's cold."

Geralt bared his teeth without thinking, but quickly closed his mouth again. He took another deep whiff of his lover to calm his nerves. He knew what Lambert wanted and he was torn about if he should allow it or not.

This was probably the most frustrating of the changes. The want for affection. Lambert was pack or family or brother. All of that. And Geralt wanted him close when he could get away with it. The easy way they had all shown their love and care for each other as wolves had opened their eyes to new possibilities. And the need to uphold that steady stream of reassurance and affection was still there.

But, anxiety and pride not accounted for, Geralt was also very possessive of Jaskier. He had been horrified by that realization, of course. But, in hindsight, it only made sense. He had found Jaskier first. He was his bard, his lover and inviting Lambert into the bed also meant letting him close to Jaskier...

A rustle from the doorway told him that Lambert was fidgeting on the spot and would probably bolt any moment. He couldn't have that.

"Come here then. Don't wake Jask."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

On silent soles Lambert came to them. The mattress dipped as his younger brother settled on the other side of Jaskier, burrying under the furs and throwing an arm around them both.

No sooner was he settled did the door open again, this time to reveal Eskel. Geralt let out a sigh.

"Eskel. What's wrong?"

"I just heard Lambert going to your room and wanted to make sure he didn't disturb you..."

There was a pause and Geralt let out another sigh. Lambert only snorted cuddling closer against Jaskier. Damn he couldn't just leave out Eskel now that Lambert was already in their bed. Jaskier would have his hide if he found out he had abandoned one of his brothers just for the sake of catching a good nights rest.

"He was cold. Come on help warm him up."

Eskel didn't need to be told twice. He slid up behind Lambert and wound two arms around him to keep himself from falling down again. Hm... They hadn't thought this through, had they? The bed was far too small to hold three of them, let alone four.

They all inched closer to the middle as much as they could, but it only squished Jaskier and Lambert between them. Jaskier made a pained noise as his ankle was jostled, but thankfully continued to sleep.

So it was a tight fit. Fine. Geralt could live with that. What drove him crazy was the heat. The room had been warmed up with a cold human and a Witcher in mind, not with three furnaces cuddled under a thick blanket. Geralt soon regretted going to bed with his shirt on. Sweat poured from his pores, determined to carve rivers through his skin and form lakes in the dips and dents of his body.

Everything became too much very fast. The hand touching his arm scorching hot, Jaskiers face smashed against the flat planes of his chest irritating the damp skin with its scrubble and Lamberts horrid breath tickling his sensitive nose.

Still Geralt refused to move. And he wasn't the only one unwilling to leave the pile, however uncomfortable it might have been. Eskel and Lamberts clearly struggled to fall asleep as well. Eskel was still precariously dangling at the edge. And Lambert was tense, probably scared to shift and accidently cause Jaskier pain again. If none of them could sleep than they at least wanted Jaskier to have a restful night.

Geralt tried to coax his mind into a state of meditation to while away the hours before dawn. Deeper and deeper he drew back into his head, until darkness surrounded him from all sides and his senses dulled to a tolerable degree.

 Thump

"Fuckin'!"

Geralt shot up from the bed and looked around with wild eyes, which didn't take long to settle on the entanglement of limbs. Eskel had fallen in the end and had dragged Lambert and the blanket with him.

"Wha-" Jaskier yawned before he could finish his questioning and rolled over to see what all the fuss was about. Geralt slung an arm around his waist again to steady him. And maybe also to seek out some body heat. Now that half of the bodies and the blanket was ripped away from him the room had suddenly turned icy.

"Eskel? Lambert? What..." Another yawn and with a groan Jaskier slid back down and pushed back against Geralt, shivering. "Nevermind. Get back up here. It's getting cold."

It was a bad idea. The incident had clearly shown them that four was too much for the bed. But the idea of sleeping without his brothers when they were so close nearly punched a pitiful whine from Geralts lungs.

Eskel and Lambert clearly had similar thoughts, for they didn't hesitate to clamber back up and cuddle up close once again. The blanket was hastily thrown over them all, but mostly tugged around Jaskier, who was grumbling and shifting, hands reaching out to pet the new additions to the bed.

The next day Vesemir scoffed at the dark circles under everyones eyes. Jaskier was half asleep on Geralts lap, none of them trusting the Lark to stay upright on his own at the moment. He was still recovering, after all. It had nothing to do with the fact that Geralt wanted to have some time to cuddle his new lover alone.

The silence at the breakfast table was stiffling, only broken by the occassional yawn and snuffle from Jaskier. Every time he as much as moved Geralt would pull him closer and nuzzle Jaskiers hair, which led to him not eating much at all.

"You are fools." Vesemir opted to state when he had finished his bowl of Kasha. "Lambert, Eskel, come with me. Geralt get Jaskier back to bed, he'll catch another cold if he's out exhausted after just recovering from one."

Everyone nodded, Jaskier answering with another wide yawn that swallowed the words he wanted to say.

Geralt smiled down at his best friend and love, fondness softening amber eyes into molten gold. He stood up with ease, carrying Jaskier in his arms like a bride and hurried across the cold hallways to get back to their room.

There he deposited Jaskier gently on the mattress and went to get the fire going again. Jaskier rolled over to watch him through half lidded eyes. He probably felt well enough to have walked, but Geralt knew his companion never missed out on a chance to be pampered. Something in him twisted then. It had usually been Jaskier who had done the pampering and caring for, fussing apparently second nature to his bard.

Once again Geralt was glad for the curse the Fae had bestowed upon them. With his protective instincts running wild there was no way for him to repress them anymore, his defenses not accustomed to the intensity of his feelings. Finally he could care for his companion the way he had always wanted to and had never been brave enough to do.

His thoughts were broken by the door opening again. Three Witchers came into the room, carrying mountains of blankets, pillows and furs. Those were thrown on the bed for the time being, causing Jaskier to yelp and duck. Thankfully nothing heavy hit his ankle.

Wordlessly the three left again, leaving Jaskier and Geralt to puzzle over the new additions to their sleeping quarters until they came back, this time with a mattress in tow. The old thing was dumped right next to the fireplace, in view of the bed and door.

"Jaskier throw me that grey wolf fur and the deer skin, please." Eskel said, stretching out his hand, catching the requested items with a small nod and smile.

Lambert wasn't as polite, snatching up the pillow Geralt had just inspected and placing it on top of the wolf fur. Piece by piece Geralts and Jaskiers mattress was emptied and the nest on the floor furnished until it looked even more cozy than the actual bed.

Vesemir shook his head at the going ons and left the boys to it. There was only so much craziness he could stomach in a day. And he had reached his limit.

When everything was done Lambert and Eskel crawled into their new bed and hesitantly curled up together. They relaxed quickly after Jaskier cooed at them though, the positive reaction emboldening them to snuggle even closer to each other.

Geralt smiled at them and for a brief moment he was torn between joining his brothers on the floor or spending the nap with Jaskier. In the end, the need to be close to his mate - damn it, lover! - won out. He could always join Eskel and Lambert later. For now it was enough to have them in plain sight, hearing them shuffle and snore.

The presence of his pack was soothing. And there, somewhere deep within the keep, he could make out the distant clatter of Vesemir in the kitchen, adding to the feeling of safety. Feeling whole for the first time in his life Geralt closed his eyes, burried his nose in the nape of Jaskiers neck, and fell into a peaceful sleep.

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #herdingwolves #seraswriting #my writing #fanfiction #fluff

[seralyra]

Cuddles and Complications

Pack Building Part 5 ___

Jaskiers reality had found itself in a weird, detached state, far removed from the outside world. Up in the blue mountains there were no societal norms, no judgement, no worries for appearances and fear of what the next day might bring. In Kaer Morhen there was only him and what he had proudly taken to calling his pack.

It was all quite unconventional, Jaskier knew that. Many would believe him to have lost his marbles entirely. But no one knew of them. No one saw them. Which is why no one could judge them. And that more than anything was what turned the fortress into a fairytale like place.

Not everything was perfect here, of course. This was no happily ever after, just a sort of gentle lull in the storm that was their lives. Tempers rose and fell. There were days filled with laughter just as much as there were days where shouts of frustration and rage filled the air.

Recovery was hard, whether it was from wounds or curses. Jaskier battled with his impatience to move around freely again. His friends and his mate (his heart still fluttered at the term) had to constantly remind him not to put so much weight on his bad leg all the time.

Vesemir sat him down on numerous occasions to stop him from overdoing it, spreading salve on the ankle on a regular basis when he noticed that Jaskier tended to forget or neglect the treatment. Geralt, too, checked the stage of his healing process every night before going to sleep.

It was slow going, as sprains unfortunately tended to stick around for a while. But there were no complications, the swelling nearly gone and the pain ebbing away. Jaskier was very thankful for that. He had known a sprained ankle wasn't the sort of injury that typically caused him much problems. Still he had worried. And most importantly, he couldn't wait to be able to move around as he used to again.

Likewise his packmembers fought to get a good hold of their instincts. Their backs were mostly straight now, but when they started training with swords again it soon became apparent how much of their abilities they still had to regain.

More often than not swords were left in the dust in favour of powerful lunges, teeth and claws, none of which were as impressive or effective as they had been when they had still been wolves.

They tried. Melitele they tried. But it was hard and more often than not Jaskier found himself in the middle of a pile of dejected Witchers at the end of the day, all whining and grumbling at the injustice of it all. A lot of times their current situation would be compared with the time after the trials.

Jaskier both loved and hated to listen to those tales. He hated the pain his friends and lover had gone through. Could barely stomach the cruel details of their past. But there was also pride in their accomplishments, a sort of grim satisfaction in their tone when they talked about how they had survived, even excelled sometimes, in an environment most had perished in.

And they had come out stronger in many ways. It was what irked them so much now. Back then, after the trials, it had been hard to adjust to their new senses, their new instincts and body mass, to all the little additional quirks they then had to navigate through as well.

It had taken up to a year for new Witchers to fully control their bodies, to learn how to shut out noise, how to dilate and shrink down pupils, how to meditate and control their strength. But it had all been for the better. All of those things had given them more control, more chances of survival.

This time every change they had kept with the transformation seemed like a setback, a hindrance, a challenge to overcome.

It made Jaskiers heart bleed that they thought of it that way. That they felt the need to quash their softer sides and their newfound playful and affectionate urges. He didn't argue against them, though. He understood that here they were safe, but out there the world was mixed tones of grey and oftentimes very cruel to deviants.

He did not begrudge them their realism.

Arms wound around his waist from behind and a cold nose rubbed against the back of his neck before nestling into the crown of his head.

"You smell sad." Geralt rumbled, pulling Jaskier into his lap, careful to not jostle him too much while Jaskier still had his pen to the page of his notebook.

"Do I? Apologies, love. I was just thinking. Where are the others?"

Jaskier set his writing utensils down to better cuddle against his mate, stretching back and up to steal a small kiss from him. Geralt bend down to meet him and tried to transform the kiss into something filthy, but the awkward angle prevented him from doing so.

"Can't you turn around, Jask?"

Several loud cracks filled the space between them as Jaskier set his neck back into order. "Hm. What do you offer me for that strenuous task?"

"Hey no sex until after dinner!" Lambert snarked, walking into the room, evading Geralts hand as it tried to grab him and sitting down a few paces away.

Jaskier often wondered what it was between the two of them. If Lamberts dancing around Geralt was another sort of game. It only seemed that way some of the time, though. Lambert grew too tense whenever he was left alone with Geralt for it to be only jest. And his darling mate seemed a bit too desperate to breach whatever walls his younger brother had build up.

It was mighty upsetting that even his attempt to reach out and drag Lambert to them failed. He had wanted to hold the youngest pup close since this mornings training session, where he had stormed off screaming after messing up at least double as much as Geralt and Eskel.

And now Eskel got to sit in between them, the tamest of them all walking in with a shake of his head and a smile, stowing away Jaskiers notebook and pen before nestling into the space that had been left for him.

And then the bastards didn't even deign to turn this into a real cuddle session. Jaskier was usually fine to bend to his packs whims. Not everyday did everyone feel the need for closeness. Heck there were even days when Jaskier excused himself, either too tired or too enthusiastic about an idea of his to sit with the others.

But today was different. All that thinking about his current and past injuries and his packmates cruel, murderous childhood had pulled his mood down to the point he craved them all around him.  And in his mind Lambert needed to be in the middle right now. Because Lambert was definitely still angry from this morning and needed a bit of extra coddling to calm down.

Unfortunately his desires were not shared.

"Eskel? Could you come over to my other side?"

"Only if I get to have Jaskier. Would that be alright with you?" Eskel, the little shit, widened his eyes and pupils just so, cocking his head to the side. And Jaskier had to look away to not cave in. Most people attempting puppy dog eyes or animalistic behavior in general just succeeded in coming of as weird and creepy. But Eskel could pull it off no problem, the scars on his face only accenting his kicked puppy look instead of ruining it. It was unfair how good he was at making adorable faces.

"But Lambert." Jaskier whined, making grabby hands at the youngest wolf. Eskel might have been good but Jaskier was stubborn.

"No." Unfortunately so was Lambert.

"Eskel please." Even more unfortunately, so were all of them. Geralt was fully focussed on Eskel now, one hand around Jaskiers waist to steady him while tugging Eskels shirt to get him to move.

"Lambeeeert. Cuddles. Comfort. Warmth." Jaskier tried to coax the other wolf as well.

"Not up for it. Not that cold." Lambert mumbled, scooting away even further.

Eskel eyed him for a bit, then glanced back at the two pouting faces of the lovers of the pack. Jaskiers was exaggerated, pulling his whole face downward, lower lip wobbling slightly and eyes huge. Geralts was more subtle, just a slight puckering of the lips and downward arch of his brows, but thanks to those expressive eyes it was no less effective.

"Fine." Eskel stood to move over, ruffling Jaskiers hair as he passed him by. But instead of planting himself on Geralts other side, he moved slightly behind him, pulling Geralt halfway into his lap and dragging Jaskier closer until he had both of them tugged into his chest. Gaint hands came up to card through both of their hair.

Geralt gave a pleased hum, leaning into the touch. But Jaskier squirmed in Eskels hold.

"Lambert, please."

The Witcher in question lifted his head to look at him and huffed. "Alright. Alright." he groaned, moving to stand. "We owe you anyway, I guess."

Gingerly Lambert lowered himself into Jaskiers arms, shifting until he could be held by both Geralt and Jaskier.

"This sucks."

"Stop complaining Lambert."

"It's uncomfortable."

"Maybe we should lay down?" Jaskier prompted.

"You'll all squish me." Eskel admitted. "Geralt sit up a bit straighter? So we can touch foreheads? Jaskier get up a bit higher as well, tug your head into my shoulder. Now Lambert lean back against Geralt and throw your legs over Jaskiers lap."

They all shuffled into the position Eskel guided them into, sharp ellbows accidently meeting soft stomach and knees knocking together. But in the end they made it, Lambert sprawled over Geralts and Jaskiers laps, head resting against Geralts shoulder and one arms slung over Jaskiers torso, thumb rubbing up and down Jaskiers neck. Eskel bracketed them from behind, arms holding Geralt and Jaskier close.

This was nice. Not what Jaskier had had in mind when he had asked for a cuddle session, but probably better now that everyone was satisfied with their position. He was closing his eyes, lulled into a dreamlike trance by the heartbeats and low breathing around him, when the door to their room opened again.

"Dinner's ready."

Several groans followed that statement, the four of them slumping into each other, nearly toppling their fragile structure.

"Five more minutes." Jaskier whined, snuggling deeper into Eskels and Geralts embrace.

"No. Get your asses down into the kitchen to get your food or there won't be any left for you. Spoiled lot." Vesemir muttered the last bit under his breath, loud enough for even Jaskier to hear.

"Guess we'll have to hold that thought." Eskel said after a few seconds of silence, already retracting himself from the pile.

Jaskier groaned again. And they had just gotten it right!

___

@batmanzplan @aj-that-person

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #kaer morhen #fluff #humor #herdingwolves #seraswriting #my writing #fanfiction