shining in your light (a knight, my love, a knight)
Summary: Jaskier's days as a single man are numbered. With family obligations knocking at the door and no escape in sight, he knows he will soon be forced to marry.
Things are further complicated when he meets a beautiful, brown-haired witcher by chance in a tavern one night.
Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: M | WC: 3k+ | CW: coarse language, implied sex
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A (very) belated Witcher Writers Winter Gift Exchange 2022 (@witcherficwriters) fill for @matrixfairy! I hope you enjoy, friendo, and sorry it's so late!
Also on AO3! I anticipate at least two more chapters, if not three, to finish everything up.
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When he was younger, Jaskier imagined life to be a fairytale.
Grand adventures, beasts to be slain, and knights in shining armor.Â
âYeeugh,â the man groaned out from the tavern floor where heâd stumbled before him, covered in mud and smelling of horse dung.Â
Real life never was quite like he imagined it would be.
âIâm so sorry, are you alright?â Jaskierâs hands fluttered uselessly in front of him, wanting to help but not quite sure if the other man was injured. He hastily put aside his tankard of ale and lute.Â
âSir? Can I help you with anything?â He called when he received no reply. It took a moment, but the man finally raised his head, turning surprisingly keen, golden eyes on Jaskier. Heâd thought he was dealing with a drunkard.
He knew he should feel exposed, perhaps intimidated, under such a sharp gaze. Jaskier had never been prone to the reactions of normal people, however, so he felt nothing of the sort.
Surprisingly, he only felt warm, heat pricking his collar.Â
Warmer still, as he took notice of the strong jaw, full lips, and long lashes cradling those honeyed irises. His eyes scanned over a set of broad shoulders, topping off a barrel chest, and what he was sure were delectable abs underneath a ruby-colored gambeson.Â
Covered in mud he may be, but a pig he was not.Â
âYou talkinâ to me, pretty thing?â The rumbling, rich baritone shook him out of his stupor. Jaskier planted a charming grin on his face, casually running his hand over his chin in a thoughtful pose to check for drool. Gods above.
âAh, but the man does speak! Are you sure youâre alright?â
The other man sat up, leaning against the wall. âJust peachy,â he grunted, leaning his elbows on his knees. âNo need to worry, pretty thing. My kind are made for a bit of wear and tear.â
Shit. And a smile meant to break a manâs heart, to boot.Â
Well. Jaskier had never been one to resist a pretty face.
âCan I help you? Buy you an ale, maybe?â
The grin turned devilish, topaz eyes shimmering with mischief. âAye, and a bowl of stew if youâre going to bed me,â he winked. âProbably need the energy. You seem like a wild one.âÂ
Jaskier flushed, shocked and pleased all in one. He returned the wink with a provocative smile of his own. âA gentleman never tells, my dear.â
He held out a hand. A little flirtation did not an acquaintance make. Jaskier was no fool, either.
Two swords on his back. Heavy traveling cloak, worn at the hem and tattered. Scarring on his face and forearms - from some beast or other, no doubt.Â
A witcher. Very interesting indeed.
Those discerning eyes stared him down, assessing, before seeming to make a decision. A strong hand clasped Jaskierâs own.
He pulled the other man up with only a little effort and noted the surprise on the witcherâs face. He felt no small amount of pride. He didnât have a witcherâs bulk, but he wasnât a small man by any means.
Now that he was standing, Jaskier took full stock of the other manâs form. His new friend had about three inches on him and at least a hundred pounds. Jaskier felt a pleasant tingle run down his spine. It was rare he met a delicious man like this on accident.
âJaskier,â he announced in his most imperious voice with a courtly, sweeping bow. âAt your service.âÂ
The other man quirked his lips, amused. âEskel.â
Jaskier felt giddy. âA pleasure to make your acquaintance, Eskel. I believe I promised you an ale?â
That lovely half-smile doubled in size. âAye. I believe you did.âÂ
###
There wasnât much talking after they went upstairs. Jaskierâs rented room was small, the bed smaller, but it would do the job.Â
âDarling,â Jaskier purred once the door was shut, âThat armor is quite dashing, but I have to say youâre a tad overdressed.âÂ
Eskelâs warm body pressed against his with a mouthwatering pressure. With the wall at his back and the absolute boulder of a man at his front, heâd never felt happier about being cornered. A rough hand grasped his jaw, calloused thumb brushing against his bottom lip.
âPretty words from a pretty mouth,â Eskel rumbled in his deep baritone. Golden eyes bored into Jaskierâs own, pinning him with their intensity. âDâyou sing just as sweetly?â
Jaskier smirked wolfishly, wrapping his arms firmly around Eskelâs neck. âIâm sure youâll find out.â
A husky chuckle, followed by a throaty moan. And then the night was silent.
###
Jaskierâs eyes fluttered open, moonlight filtering through the tiny inn window.Â
He quietly took stock of the pleasant soreness in his limbs, aches in places which meant heâd had a very good night indeed. It took a few moments for him to become aware of the hard chest beneath his ear, carpeted with smattering of dark hair.
He came fully into awareness, remembering his night with Eskel and feeling a goofy smile bloom across his face. He was almost too comfortable using the witcher as a pillow. He would be perfectly content to lounge around until Eskel woke up. Maybe convince him to go for another round⌠But loathe as he was to move, he knew he needed to get back home.
As quietly as possible, he disentangled himself from the body below him. He dressed in silence, distinctly aware of every swish and rustle of fabric making their way to sharp witcher ears. He put on just enough clothing to be decent for the trek back, not wanting to delay any further.
Jaskier looked back at the man on the bed. He truly had the body of a god, looked absolutely delectable with a sheet just barely covering his exquisite cock. Blessedly, heâd had the skills in bed to match, which Jaskier was quite thankful for.
He looked oddly vulnerable, soft brown curls falling into his eyes and face lax with sleep. The moonâs rays danced across his striking features and made his tanned skin glow. He was the picture of inviting.
He was beautiful. It was a shame this was only for a night.
âMay our paths cross again, Eskel,â he spoke softly.
Jaskier slipped out the door, unaware of the witcher watching him leave.
###
His nightly outings were becoming more common the closer he got to his impending doom. Since heâd passed his twenty-first birthday, Jaskier knew he was living on borrowed time. He knew his father would make things as unpleasant as possible.
Men of the Pankratz family were honor-bound to marry by the end of their twenty-first year. If they had not made a match by this time, a match would be arranged for them by the head of the household. The legend (or so he was told, although it all sounded like horse shit) went that were this rule not met, a curse would befall their house and lands, blighting all who lived within them.Â
Or something. Heâd never really paid attention during his governessâs lessons, dreadfully boring woman that she was.
But he was damned sure everyone in his house believed in the legend. Without a doubt, heâd be turned out on his ass for the first respectable gentleperson that came calling for him. He was under no illusions that his father had his best interests at heartâfar from it, in fact. The sooner theyâd be rid of him, the better.
Nothing like a parentâs love, eh?
He bitterly chuckled to himself as he stepped into the shadowed gardens below his quarters. Right turn at the archway. Left at the lavender bushes. Two steps and a hop across the charming little pond with the frogs heâd played with as a child. Now just a shimmy up the trellis to his open window and heâd be home free.Â
He should really look into doing this professionally. Heâd make an excellent spy.
Jaskier crested the windowsill, feet on the warmed stone floors. The embers of the fire were still hot in the hearth, no doubt stoked by his diligent valet. let out a yawn, feeling his eyes start to droop.Â
âI imagine Iâd be tired too, after an acrobatics routine like that.â
He jumped about a foot in the air. He did not shriek, thank you very much.
âJana, you witch!â He hissed, blue eyes blazing. âPerhaps I should put a bell on you!â
She smirked, green eyes glinting maliciously. âAnd where would be the fun in that?âÂ
She was the devil incarnate. Evil in the flesh. He loved her to pieces.
âSister dear,â he hummed, stepping towards his wardrobe. âTo what do I owe the pleasure?â
âJust checking on my dearest Julek. Thought you might be tossing and turning tonight, is all.â
Jaskier squinted at her before turning back to his clothes. He grabbed a nightshirt and stepped behind the changing screen. âAnd why ever would I be restless?â
He didnât need to see her face to know she was laughing at him. âJust a⌠feeling I had.â
He quickly stepped out from behind the screen, more comfortable now in his loose night clothes. He stepped towards the basin to wash his face. Jana was sitting primly on the bench, legs crossed daintily, looking serene as ever.Â
Something was definitely wrong.
âOh?â He wouldnât give her the satisfaction of true curiosity. She was unbearably smug about this little talent of hers.
She got like this, sometimes. Jana was prone to feelingsâno one in their family called them premonitions, per se, but it was hard to find a different word to describe them. Sometimes it was small things, like an unexpected change in the weather, but there were other times, tooâlike when sheâd gotten a bad feeling about Aunt Margotâs cold, and sheâd passed within a fortnight.
Jana hummed, noncommittal, and tossed her long, chocolate locks over her shoulder. âSomething is going to happen tomorrow. Something big. And it concerns you, brother dearest.âÂ
Jaskier didnât respond, mind racing. He schooled his features, maintaining the indifferent mask heâd learned as a son of the peerage. The tournament tomorrow was for the benefit of the Pankratz House. It didnât, however, directly impact Jaskier in any notable wayânot more than it would impact them all.
âWe shall see, I suppose. Now, if you donât mind,â he pointedly shuffled towards his bed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he passed. âI need my beauty rest.âÂ
Heâd turned down the covers and was just about to snuff the light when Jana approached him, ruffling his hair. He huffed. She turned away toward the door with a smile.
âIndeed we shall, little brother. Tomorrow.â
###
The morning dawned bright, trumpets and birdsong intermingling with the fresh dew. The sunlight was dappled through the trees in the clearing and the air smelled of late spring blossoms.
It was far too fine a day for such nonsense.
âHark! Hear ye, hear ye! On this day commences the Tournament of Koselig, attended only by the most honorable of knights and lords!â
The opening speeches were always dull as watching paint dry. The Pankratz family was seated in the box with the best view of the action at the head of the field. He was expected to smile and nod as the competitors passed their box, acknowledging the brave souls fighting and potentially losing life and limb. All for the sake of their entertainmentâand today, the dubious honor of ruling the shittiest parcel in the province.
It made him sick, to be honest.Â
âYou donât suppose we could slip out after the announcements, do you? Iâm sure Vincent could be convinced to cover for us with the right motivation.â He winked at Jana, earning a giggle in return.
âYou know we canât, Julek. BesidesâI really do have a good feeling about today. Something important is going to happen, I just know it.âÂ
Her feelings were not to be dismissed. It was sure to be an eventful day, for one reason or another. He just hoped it wasnât at his expense.
âJana, Julian, do be quiet. Where are your manners?â His mother tutted, one elegant brow arched. She was the spitting image of his sister, with a few more lines around her eyes and streaks of gray through her hair.
âApologies, mother. I seem to have forgotten my patience today,â Jaskier smiled sweetly. âMust these things be so terribly tedious?â
âIt would do you well to watch your tongue, Julian. Comes with the territory. A Viscount is expected to behave and attend events such as this.â
âOnly a Viscount in name, father. Donât you worryâyouâll never have to bless me with more responsibility than that with our dear Jana here.â
The tension between father and son was palpable. Jana discretely squeezed his hand in support.Â
Jaskierâs relationship with his father had never been the greatest, but they had reached an all-time low recently. He felt like he was on a tightrope, closer and closer to falling to the brink as each day passed. Whoâor whatâhis father had in store for him was a great source of anxiety. And two of them werenât exactly the types to have heart-to-heart chats, so his fate would inevitably be a surprise. Joy of joys.
In other circumstances, heâd be filling the gaping pit of anxiety with a glass of wine and a warm body, but alas. Duty called, as his father liked to remind him.
âWe have the honor of being hosted today by the esteemed Pankratz family: the Earl Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Maria Pankratz of Lettenhove, Lady Jana Pankratz of Lettenhove, and Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove,â the herald carried on. âThe knights and lords present will compete today for the honor of overseeing one of his Lordshipâs properties in Hygge, a parcel of land whichâŚâ
Jaskier found his attention drifting beyond the stands, the announcements a tiresome buzzing in the background. From the looks of it, every person in the city of Koselig had turned out for the event, and probably the neighboring cities too. They were practically giving away a prize today, wrapped up in a neat, entertaining package and decorated with a ball. It was no wonder it looked like the entirety of coastal Redania had arrived on their front lawn.Â
He wasnât surprised. His parents were well-liked for their fair ruling of the lands they controlled, but they were equally liked for the lavish parties they liked to throw. It wasnât all a front, but every event, gift, and act of service was part of a carefully calculated plan to keep the populace happy and maintain appearances.
His mother, for all that she was kind, was incredibly shrewd and good with people. She knew what would keep them happiest (and what would shut them up). His father was a strict man, committed to the principles of duty and obedience. At the same time, he wouldnât hesitate to manipulate a situation in his favor. Jaskier loved them, but he didnât always like them.
Hygge was a sizeable estate just shy of a weekâs ride north of Jaskierâs home in Koselig. Its accompanying village was full of fishermen and farmers alike, with the coast nearby and plenty of fertile land to till. The former Lord whoâd ruled over the property for the last twenty years had died two months prior. Rather unfortunately for everyone, he passed without an heir. Even more unfortunately, he had done a poor job managing things in the last five years. Much work would need to be done by the new proprietor.
His parents needed someone to manage the property and township. Jana, as heir to their family estate, had been assisting with the property in the months since the former Lordâs passing. This obviously wasnât a long-term solution as she would take over in Koselig one day.
They had decided to select a new proprietor, ideally a knight looking to settle down or a lower member of the peerage without many responsibilities. And because his mother had a flair for dramatics, what better way to find someone willing than a tournament?
It was great marketing, he had to hand it to her. Undoubtedly, they would find someone today.
âGentlemen! Please present yourself to the venerable Pankratz family!â
Jaskier put on his most polite and courtly smile for the introductions. One by one, the assembled lords and knights stepped up to the box. There was a Lord Valdo from Cidaris who seemed utterly obnoxiousâ-gods, he hoped he didnât win. A knight from Roggeveen with a peculiar mustache. Another Lord So-and-So from Denesle who sounded absolutely drunk off his assâthat would make for a good show.Â
He almost fell out of his chair when he spotted a familiar red gambeson and mop of brown hair. Flashes of last night sent a rush of blood to a very unfortunate place as he locked gazes with a familiar pair of golden eyes.Â
Their bodies meeting in an intimate embrace. Eskelâs calloused hands gripping his hips tightly. Deep, rumbling groans as Jaskier rode him. The insatiable desire for more. And afterward, those same work-worn hands stroking soothingly down his back. Sweaty bangs tenderly brushed off his forehead. A gentle hand cleaning him up with a rough-hewn cloth. A handsome face, enhanced by scars, relaxed and sated in sleep.
Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck.
Eskel dipped into a formal bow. âSir Eskel, Witcher of the Wolf School.âÂ
âHa!â His father burst out, with great amusement. âA witcher, competing in my tournament! Surely you canât be serious.âÂ
âDeadly so, my Lord,â Eskelâs lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes cool. Despite this, he gave no outward signs of annoyance, his posture remaining relaxed and easy.Â
âOh?â His father raised an imperious brow. âAnd do you meet the entry requirements? One must be an established member of the peerage or a knight to compete. This isnât a tournament for just anyone.â
âHow fortunate, then,â Eskel drawled, âthat I am knighted. His Royal Highness, Windhalm of Attre, knighted me four summers ago. Dealt with a rotfiend problem he was having, nasty business.â
Alfred did not say a word, but one look at his face said enough about his frustration. Eskel paid no mind.
âConvenient as well that he granted me the title Baronet of Attre, as a personal honor for my services. Still a peasant at heart and in title, but the words are pretty, yeah?â
Eskel rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in a seemingly bashful gesture. âAye, a shame I turned the land down at the time. After all, a witcher? A proprietor? Canât be serious.â He gave a deep belly laugh at the thought, throwing his head back. âChanged my mind, though. Iâve rather come to like the idea of settling down.âÂ
The tension could be cut with a knife. Jaskier, his sister, his motherâhell, even the heraldâall waited, staring at Alfred in suspense.
âWell then, my Lord? Do I pass the test?â The witcher gave a winning smile, the epitome of mannerly but possessing an air of cold detachment Jaskier knew his father detested. It was the same persona his father used at court.
Color crept up Alfredâs collar. Jaskier could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. He hid a smile behind his hand, biting his lip. Entertainment, indeed.
Alfred cleared his throat. âWell, Sir Eskel of the Wolf School, Baronet de Attre, it certainly seems you do. We look forward to seeing you⌠compete.â Alfred gave a stiff and reluctant nod, dismissing him. The moment was over.
Or, well, Jaskier thought it was.
Eskel gave his family another formal bow. His eyes met Jaskierâs with intention as he rose back to his full height. Jaskier felt his breath catch in his throat as gold met blue.Â
There was something there, in his gaze. A heatânot the burning kind, no, but something pleasant. Like hot cider on a winterâs night. Like a fire to warm cold bones--or an aching heart. Jaskier felt a shiver down his spine.
He felt trapped in that stare, unable to look away. He gave a coquettish smile, unable to resist his natural flirtation even for a moment, particularly with the witcher. Eskel gave a charming, boyish grin back, inclining his head deeply before turning away.
And oh, what a lovely sight he made. Although his trousers really did look better offâŚ
âWhat the hell was that?â Jana hissed into his ear, breaking the spell Jaskier had fallen under.
âWhat was what?â Jaskier asked in his best attempt at innocence, rubbing sweaty palms against his knees.Â
âYou know what. Do you know him?âÂ
âWe may have met before - hard to say, I meet a lot of people.â
Jana scoffed, pushing against his shoulder with her own at his non-answer. Jaskier laughed, fondly, and turned his attention back to the field.
Neither of them noticed Alfredâs piercing stare as he eyed them with suspicion.
(1/3)
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