Chapter Text
Being chased by guards on a hot summer morning is not the optimal start to one's day. Well, in fairness, it wasn't really the “start of the day” for anyone. Most people had woken up much earlier to tend crops and cattle, open taverns or display their goods in the town's thronged market. The sun was high in the sky, and the streets were alive. Jaskier, however, was deep in slumber: laying in the bed of his latest conquest under the warm rays of the sun, when he was rather abruptly woken up by three armoured men: they barged into the room spears first, shouting about witchcraft and thievery. Jaskier rubbed the sleep off his eyes, he turned, noticed his lover's absence, but he had no time to dwell on it. He put a surprised look on his face and a hand to his chest as he reluctantly got up from the very comfortable bed “Oh gods you should have at least knocked! I could have been naked!”.
“You are, you debauched fiend!” growled one of the soldiers.
“Oh, I am, aren't I?” he replied, looking down at himself, feigning innocence.
“I should get-”
“Follow us sorcerer, swiftly, by order of the King!” said another man, impatiently.
“I intend to officer, I would be delighted to sort this...misunderstanding. Still, I should put some clothes on” he said, pointing at his garments on the floor and heading towards them. He glanced subtly at his surroundings, he had to get to his satchel quickly. Then, smirking, he went on: ”Unless His Majesty would prefer me like this? I'm told your Lord has a soft spot for young men doesn't he?”. Just as he thought, the men weren't thrilled about his comment and they exploded in a fit of rage. Taking advantage of the chaos, Jaskier acted quickly: he sprinted rolling under an arm coming towards him, grabbed his belongings and flew himself out the open window.
Two floors weren't that much, the bushes under the building and his previous experiences in this kind of endeavour meant that he left the scene mostly unscathed. He was, however, still completely bare and in the middle of a crowded street, his escape hadn't gone unnoticed. He darted into an alley, put his breeches and blouse on, and started frantically rummaging through his bag whilst running. As he was rushing down a cobble-stoned road he quickly realised two things: in his haste to leave he had forgotten his precious leather boots and, most importantly, his blue vial was empty. This was a rather unfortunate predicament, as the powder that was usually stashed inside of it would have allowed him to teleport far away from the king's guards, who were surely still looking for him. Groaning, he remembered why he was in this forsaken town in the first place instead of a safer kingdom where magic was far more well-received (and where he hadn't committed several “crimes”, as they were adamant to call them, in his youth).
The day before…
Jaskier was, on most occasions, not a complete fool. He stayed out of the lands where he and his practice were not welcomed and only crossed such borders when it was absolutely necessary, even then he mostly wandered the countryside. This had been one of those few occasions: he was in a nearby reign when he found himself in need of certain supplies and Destiny wanted that they could only be found in this area, at least without travelling a great distance. One of these materials was the stem of a plant, a vital ingredient in the compound that allowed him to travel through great distances in a matter of seconds. The plan had been simple: find the seedling, retreat to the forest, prepare the powder, get the hell out of here. But, and Destiny wasn't to blame for this, Jaskier was far from perfect and even after almost a century of roaming the earth he kept making the same mistake time and time again: he got distracted.
He had been inspecting the ground in a field far closer to the town than he would have liked, looking for the plant. He was so engrossed in his search that he didn't notice the man approaching him on a horse until he was right next to him.
“Looking for something?”. Jaskier turned suddenly, startled.
“Apologies, didn't mean to scare you young man.” said the rather dashing man. Even if amongst magicians Jaskier was regarded as a youngling, his age wouldn't put him in that category by human standards, but he refrained from commenting. His appearance really resembled the one of a young man: he looked quite lanky, the comfortable clothing hiding the lean muscles under his tan skin. The head of tousled, dark hair paired with big light eyes and a square face devoid of wrinkles created a rather boyish image. The man, instead, must have been in his forties, he was quite tall and broad, with hazel eyes and beautiful locks of blond hair, cut short. The magician gave an appreciative once-over that, judging by the following smirk on the man's face, didn't go unnoticed. The stranger assumed a quite smug expression and Jaskier realised he hadn't answered the question, preoccupied with following the lines of the strong hands holding the reins with his eyes. Still, he took his time, never one to get easily embarrassed. Slowly he looked back to the man's face and replied: “I am indeed, perhaps you could be of assistance?”.
-“Depends what you're looking for” the double entendre was heavy in his words as his gaze followed a bead of sweat down Jaskier's chest. Despite dusk approaching, the air was torrid this far south and he had been wearing his blouse almost totally open.
-” I'm trying to find a plant, are you well-versed in Herbology?”
-” I'm afraid I am not”
-” Well then-”
-” But I do have a rather extensive collection of books in my residence, you would be welcome to browse it if you wish” the man was quick to add.
Jaskier didn't really need any manuals, but the proposition wasn't about texts at all, was it?
-” I wouldn't want to intrude in your family's home,” he said, just to be sure.
-” Oh worry not-” the man stopped and cocked his head.
-” Jaskier” he provided.
-” Well, Jaskier, as a matter of fact, I live alone. You wouldn't be imposing at all”.
-” That's very kind of you, Sir...?”
-” Leon is fine”
Jaskier, really, really shouldn't stay in this place longer than necessary, but, looking at the men in front of him he thought: “A little detour wouldn't hurt, no?”.
-” Alright, Leon. I think I'll take you up on your offer”.
In a matter of seconds, he was helped on the saddle, sitting in front of the man, and they were heading towards the town.
“Onwards we go” Leon's deep voice resonated in his chest. Yes, a little detour wouldn't hurt. Jaskier would be gone before morning either way.
The journey wasn't particularly long and they chatted amicably.
-” So, what do you need this plant for?”
-” A salve” he lied promptly.
As they entered the town Jaskier kept his head low, lest someone recognised him from some past “incidents” in this kingdom. They weren't very close to the capital, but one could never be sure.
After entering the threshold, the pretence quickly fell. They were on each other in an instant and Jaskier was pressed against the shelves containing the “extensive collection of books”.
After a good few hours of “browsing” on multiple surfaces of the house, which would surely cause noise complaints the following morning, Jaskier was sated but exhausted and he made the second mistake of the night: he fell asleep.
The sorcerer was, to put it mildly, truly fucked: he didn't get the supplies he needed, he was being followed by the king's guards, he couldn't teleport, he didn't have a horse to escape the old-fashioned way, he didn't have time to buy a horse. At least he had his black powder, he could put on a glamour and change his appearance, but that required time and a good place to hide. An alley wouldn't do and he couldn't just barge into someone's house. Then, he looked towards the sea...the harbour! There was surely a ship moored at the pier without a crew on it and the port was brimming with people at this hour of the day, he would be able to slip through the crowd unnoticed, hopefully. A fairly simple plan: locate a suitable ship, get inside, remodel his looks, get out.
Keeping an ear out for clanking armour, Jaskier made his way to the docks. Fortunately, even though he often preferred the opposite, he was able to conduct himself in a way that didn't attract attention; it wasn’t the first time that he had needed it.
He made his way to the sea, quickly identifying a sizable, empty ship. Jaskier felt a pull towards it and he went over hastily, almost on instinct. He put a hand on the side feeling the wood, heightening his senses to ensure it was unoccupied at the moment. As he was climbing one of the ladders of the vessel he felt energy thrumming under his fingertips, adrenaline cursing through his veins. Walking quietly on the deck he wandered through a big wooden door, down a corridor and into a little room. The magician got to work, opening the vial and smearing some pasty black powder on his fingers. Jaskier then proceeded with his ritual, the movements automatic by now: a streek over each eyelid, one on the nose, another over the jaw and then over the cheekbones. As he was reciting the enchantment the door sprung open. Fuck, apparently the ship wasn’t as empty as it seemed. How did he not notice? This was making no sense. He turned, shock on his face.
-” Who the fuck are you?” boomed a low, growly voice. The man in front of him was tall and burly. He was wearing a wine-coloured blouse tucked into tan trousers with a bulky belt covered in a concerning amount of knives. He had long brown hair and a gnarly scar covering almost half of his face.
Jaskier, usually quick-witted, could do nothing more than try to blabber an answer before he was roughly taken by the collar of his chemise and dragged down to the end of the corridor. He was shoved into a wide room containing a large desk with maps and ink over it. The man sitting behind it, who had been sorting through some papers, lifted his head at the commotion. When the sorcerer was confronted with his bright yellow eyes, paired with strikingly white hair, he knew. He had heard of the man, his name whispered in dark hallways and dirty taverns, spoken with fear by even the scariest of men. Geralt of Rivia captain of the “Chimera” a pirate ship feared throughout the globe for its ruthless captain and, most notably, its ability to change shape. Fuck, the strong energy that he had been feeling wasn’t his own, it was that of the ship. Leave it to Jaskier to pick a fucking pirate’s vessel and the most famous at that.
The captain was staring at him, a calculating look on his square face. When he spoke, his deep voice resonated around the room, and the magician felt a shiver run through his spine.
-“ Eskel, who is this?” he said, addressing the man that was still holding Jaskier tightly.
-” Well Geralt, I have been wondering the same thing. I found him in one of the cellars, he was putting on a glamour.”
-” Mmmh, what’s a scrawny, young sorcerer doing on my ship, uninvited?”
-” Well, you see… mm, I-” the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth, fuck this was bad.
-” Did someone send you? Were you hoping to just sneak yourself into my crew, without anyone noticing? Did they even tell you what you were getting yourself into? Were they that eager to get rid of you?” the man outed the words in such a calm way, completely devoid of emotions. The manner in which he expressed himself, paired with that cold gaze, was even more terrifying than the other man’s booming rage.
-” Mmmh, your face is familiar, mage. Where have I seen you before?”
The captain then got up from the desk, casting a big shadow on the room. He started looking for something on a dresser, and when he found it a smirk appeared on his face. With a piece of parchment in his hand, he returned to the desk but stayed standing, leaning on it.
-” My, my you’re quite the trouble maker aren’t you Jaskier?”
The magician gulped, his heart racing. How did he know his name?
-” Sorcery, heresy, thievery, arson, debauchery, sodomy…the list goes on. They are giving out a hefty reward for your head” he turned over the paper in his hands, revealing a quite accurate picture of the sorcerer. Oh, that explained a few things. He had been recognized, someone ratted him out, maybe even Leon himself.
-” They got my nose wrong” fuck, fuck his stupid mouth. This was not the time.
-” Oh he can speak!” Eskel’s voice boomed behind him and suddenly he was reminded of his presence and the tight grip on his neck.
-” I can explain, I’m sure we can find a way to sort through this…situation” he tried to smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace.
-” The “situation” is quite simple, boy: you tell me exactly what you’re doing on my ship and then I decide if I want to kill you with my own hands or hand you to the guards and get some coin out of it. Oh and don’t try to lie, I can smell it”.
-” I know who you are”.
-” Do you, now?”
-” You’re Geralt of Rivia, captain of the Chimera.” He said, lifting his chin.
-” Then you know that you shouldn’t waste my time and get on with it.”
-” I imagine that you’re not very fond of the king’s guards, being a pirate and all”.
-” Get. On. With. It.”
-” I did not enter this ship with ill intent, I thought it was empty. I imagine that’s intentional”
-” Go on”. The man seemed quite reasonable, despite his reputation.
-” As you can see from the leaflet in your hands, I’m rather…renowned around this region. It’s mostly for some reckless “adventures” in my youth and I tend to stay the fuck out of this place. But, unfortunately, I was in need of some supplies and got distracted by some other activities. Next thing I know I’m half naked, being chased by the guards. I got on your ship, not knowing it was yours, only to hide while I changed my appearance.”
-” He’s telling the truth.” said the man behind him, softening his grip.
-” I know, Eskel.”
-” You understand that I can’t let off my ship here after you’ve entered it? With you knowing my identity and my current location, I can’t trust what you’d do with it, maybe trying to avoid your head being cut off by handing them a bigger fish.”
-” I understand, yes.”
-” What do you suggest I do with you, then?”
-” I can offer you my services.”
-” I don’t need a rentboy.”
-” Oh I’m sure you don’t. I have no disrespect towards those in that line of work, but I’m not a “rentboy” as you put it. I usually like the term “freelance magician”, I'm offering to work for you just as that. A sorcerer is always handy, especially in a vessel this big. I’m also fairly skilled in the manipulation of wind.”
-” An elemental witch? Your kind is rare.”
-” It is.”
-” I will need to bring this matter over to the crew, they’ll have a vote and decide your fate.”