#dad!jaskier

You hummed quietly as you moved around the kitchen, making sure to be nearly as silent as possible. One week old Charlotte was just in the other room taking a nap. You had struggled to get her to sleep but now that she was finally asleep, you could clean up where it was needed. 

As you were passing a window, you glanced outside out of habit. Your eyes caught sight of two horses coming down the path. One was Roach carrying Geralt and the other was Piper carrying Jaskier. 

You hurried to go outside and meet your husband, but made sure to quietly close the front door behind yourself. 

Jaskier jumped down from Piper’s back before she even came to a stop. He was so eager and excited to get to you, to make it to you before the baby arrived. 

But as he started to approach you, he realized your stomach wasn’t as prominent as it had been two weeks ago when he left with Geralt for a contract. 

The bard came to a slow stop, brows drawing together with concern. His lips parted as his breath caught in his throat. 

“The-The baby.” He couldn’t even form a complete sentence. 

“It’s alright, my love.” You assured him, placing your hands on his arms. “She’s inside.”

His features immediately softened. His hands came up to your biceps. 

“She?”

“Mhm.” Tears sprung from seemingly nowhere as you nodded your head. 

Without missing a beat, Jaskier pulled you in for a hug. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, hands pressing against your back. 

“When?”

“Six days ago just before sunrise.”

His shoulders trembled as he cried into the crook of your neck. 

The both of you had been told by your midwife that the baby wouldn’t be born for three more weeks, so you encouraged Jaskier to go with Geralt on one final trip before fatherhood prevented him from traveling for a while.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Nonsense.” You brought your hand up to brush your fingers through his thick dark hair. “We are both safe. I only wish you would have been here to witness her birth.”

He pulled away to look at you. His cheeks were stained red and tears dampened his skin. You reached up to brush the tears away, smiling softly. 

“Would you like to see her?”

“Of course.” 

Jaskier started to go towards the house, his hand firmly holding yours. You hesitated. Your eyes found Geralt. 

“Come on, Geralt. You must see your niece.”

“I will be in momentarily.” The White Wolf told you, a soft smile playing on his face. “I’ll put the horses up.”

***

Jaskier squeezed your hand intermittently as you led him down the hallway towards your bedroom. 

“She just laid down for a nap not too long ago.” You warned him. 

He let your hand go and began to go to the crib by himself. You remained near the door, watching your husband with teary eyes. You had cried multiple times since her birth thinking about what this moment would be like, and now it was finally here. 

Jaskier took his lute off and gently placed it on the floor against her crib. 

“Oh my gods.” He whispered. 

Inside the crib was what looked like a wrapped up loaf of bread. But the little face poking out from the off white cloth made his heart melt. 

Without hesitation, Jaskier picked her up. 

“She barely weighs anything!” He whispered, blue eyes very briefly finding you. He returned his gaze to Charlotte as he cradled her in his arms. 

“Right now, she has your eyes.” You moved to stand next to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “Hopefully it stays that way. You have beautiful eyes.”

“She’s got your nose.” He chuckled softly, then sniffled. “What-What have you been calling her?”

“We agreed on Charlotte. After your sister.” 

Jaskier brought his gaze back to you. 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“We agreed on it.” You cupped his cheek and used the pad of your thumb to gently brush the tears away. 

“No, thank you for this. For-For giving me a daughter.” He turned his head to kiss your palm. “It’s more than I ever could’ve asked for.”

“My love, I’d give you the moon and stars if I could.”

Jaskier leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours. 

You both stayed like that for a few moments, eyes closed and taking in one anothers warm breath. It was comforting to just be there with your husband and now with your daughter too. 

“Geralt is going to love her.” Jaskier pulled back, a bright and proud smile on his face. 

“Let’s go introduce him.”

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-

He was so fucking tired. This was his penance for all the mischief he caused through his life. He hadn't slept since the night before she was born and she had boundless energy. 

But damn if walking her around the kitchen with her precious little hands wrapped around his fingers wasn't worth every single second. She wobbled and fell into every next step like someone drunk off their ass and nothing in the world was cuter to him. His back would most definitely ache from hunching over for so long but his spine went to shit months ago anyway. 

When she made it to the hallway he gripped her wrists and swung her up in the air, her gasping laughter fuel enough for an eternity of sleepless nights and diaper blowouts. 

He spun her in the air and stepped to catch her on his hip, "Now, m'lady, it's time to paint your hi-chair with expensive veg puree." 

She giggled again when he booped her nose and he did his best to bottle the feeling up for later when she would inevitably scream bloody murder when bathtime was over. Or maybe because he wouldn't let her play with the milk cap. Or even because one of his rings wouldn't come off his finger.

-

The first morning of preschool had nearly killed him. 

She was brave for Mommy, just like she always was, but when she left the room his six-year-old clung to his leg, rivers of tears running down her cheeks. 

"No! Daddy stay!" 

It broke his heart to peel her off his leg and kneel down next to her, holding her still too small hands in his, "It'll be alright, love. You'll forget all about me in a minute or two." 

That was the wrong thing to say. 

Her little bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with fresh tears, "But- but I don't want to forget you!" 

It was a few more minutes before he convinced her to explore on her own, but he didn't mind being the last parent to leave. 

Geralt was with him when he picked her up, that ridiculous motorbike of his broken down again. 

She was so excited to see them she jumped up and down in her place in line, waving with both hands. When they got in the car she rambled on and on, and on and on, about which toys she played with and the other kids in her class. 

"Devon liked your song Daddy!" 

"My song?" 

"Yep. I- I-" she gasped with excitement trying to get her words out as fast as she thought them, "-when I miss you I sing 'Taur Song' and-and I don't miss you too much." 

Jaskier had to bite down on his cheek to keep from crying, rubbing his chin and resisting the urge to scream. 

"Awww. Well, that's very nice of Devon." Geralt cooed, then turning to Jaskier murmured, "You need to pull over?" with a knowing grin.  

"I'm fine!" He squeaked before taking a big calming breath, "You sing the Guitar Song when I'm not around?" He called to the backseat, glancing in the mirror. 

"Of course, darling silly!" 

Jaskier was melting.

"Ooohhh, Jask," Geralt laughed, "She's a mini you times two." 

They came to a red light and Jaskier took the opportunity to rub his face, not so discretely wiping tears away. 

"Daddy, are you sad?" 

Rays of sunlight paint across the walls of the bedroom in your cottage when you wake, the sound of birds chirping where they rest on your windowsill pulling you lazily from your slumber. You are content to bask in the haze of waking before your mind catches up with you. You never wake this late, your daughter makes sure of that. She usually rises with the sun, pulling you out of bed with her cries for your embrace. 

    This morning, though, it is quiet. Your bed is empty, as is your daughter’s crib where it rests by the fireplace. You hastily tie your skirt around your waist after throwing on a light shirt, carefully stepping out of the threshold of your bedroom. 

    The kitchen and living area are vacant as well, save for a new bundle of flowers resting in a vase on the table. You slide on your boots and step outside, taking a deep breath of the cool, fresh spring air. 

    As you step around to the back garden, you spot them. Your garden is sprawling, filled with luscious vegetables and fruits and herbs to keep you all healthy and fed. But the love of your life, bless him, had requested a corner of the garden for himself, dutifully planting flowers that he enjoys just to have them in his life. The two of you often garden together, pruning and caring for your respective crops. 

    Now, though, Jaskier sits crisscrossed on the ground, holding your daughter in his arms. She’s getting big, almost able to walk on her own through your little home. She holds Jaskier’s heart tightly, a neverending embrace that could steal his breath away. 

    You lean against the frame of your house, content to hold witness to the peace that he has created with her. Jaskier is gently rocking her in his arms, humming a wordless lullaby that he has used since the day she was born. You can hear her blubbering along with his music, clearly having picked up the habit from her father. 

    You watch as he leans his head down, barely brushing the tip of his nose along her cheek. She shrieks with laughter, grasping with chubby fingers at his hair to pull him closer. Your heart bursts as Jaskier’s mouth spreads in a great smile, nuzzling his head down against hers. 

    “She likes you better,” you say, walking over to their side. When she notices you your daughter squeals, holding out her arms and making grabby hands towards you. You kneel at Jaskier’s side and fit your hands under her shoulders, lifting her into your arms. Jaskier greets you with a kiss, soft and sweet as the flower petals that surround you.

    “Not true, she just likes when I sing to her,” he whispers, chuckling as she grabs a lock of your hair and tugs, laughing maniacally. 

    “Well, at least we know where she got her attitude,” You gently pull your hair from her hand as you stand, Jaskier close behind you. 

    “Yes, she is just as much a lovely ray of sunshine as her mother, doting love upon all who find themselves lucky enough to be in her presence.” Jaskier wraps his arm around your waist as you stroll lazily back to your home. 

    “Thank you for taking her this morning, it was very sweet of you,” you whisper, glancing down with a smile as your daughter plays with your necklace. When Jaskier had declared his love for you he had given you a ring, a simple band with engravings of ivy and delicate flowers around the edges. When you had fallen pregnant, you couldn’t wear it anymore since your fingers were swollen. He had come home with a nice length of smooth leather one evening, sliding the ring onto it before tying it around your neck. 

    Your daughter looks up at you with wide blue eyes, the same clear waters that fill her father’s eyes spilling into hers. You squeeze her closer, holding her tight against your chest as Jaskier does the same to you, a bundle of warmth and comfort with your little family.

…

    That evening, you gently stir some herbs into the hearty stew over the fire, your daughter standing and bracing herself on the edge of the chair that Jaskier is sitting in. A knock sounds against your door and you leave the ladle resting beside the fire, opening the door wide. 

    “Ah! My Witchers, I am so glad you’re finally here!” Jaskier exclaims from his spot, your daughter following his eyes to the three men who stand in the doorway. She can’t see over the couch, though, so she just goes back to bouncing where she stands at the chair. You step aside as you welcome them in, letting them leave their armor and weapons in a little basket that you keep beside the entrance. 

    “So, how’s the little hellhound?” Lambert asks as he unceremoniously throws his jerkin into the basket, rolling the arms of his chemise up to his elbows. 

    “She’s well, Lambert, thank you for asking.” Lambert flushes a bit, crossing over to the stew at the fire. Your daughter blubbers at him, a whole bunch of nonsensical sounds coming together to form some incoherent thought. 

    “Yeah, yeah, blulrrbb-lrrbbworr to you too, little one.” You smile to yourself as he ladles a bowl for himself, sitting on the couch as he tucks in. Lambert is gruff, crass, sometimes a prick, but he has a truly soft heart under that hard exterior, and your daughter seems to have wormed her way right into the softest parts of him. 

    Geralt is next, carefully skirting around the edge of the couch as he grabs another bowl. You see your daughter’s eyes light up when she sees him, and she sticks her hand out to make grabby hands to him. She loses her balance though, and catches herself on the chair. Jaskier laughs a bit, ruffling her hair as he looks up to the White Wolf.

    “You see that, Geralt? Next thing you know, she’ll be the one following you all over the continent.” Geralt rolls his eyes with a groan, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he settles beside Lambert. 

    Eskel stands at your side, tilting his scars away from you as he shuffles a bit. He’s told you once before that he doesn’t want to scare your daughter, what with the angry red lines that distort the side of his face. And you told him that if she sees him often enough, she won’t come to associate them with fear, but with love and care.

    So, you give him a nudge, following him as he rounds the corner of the couch. Your daughter looks up at him, squealing loudly with the sight of the dark-haired Witcher. You watch, shocked, as she clunkily turns, lets go of the chair, and steps towards Eskel. Everyone holds their breath as she takes one, two, three steps before she stumbles, headed straight to the ground. But Eskel gets there first, scooping her up into his arms with a hearty laugh. 

    Your daughter screeches, babbling nonsense as she falls into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms as far around him as they can go. Your eyes begin to well at the sight, and you can tell that Eskel is trying to keep it together as he closes his own eyes and holds her close. Jaskier stands and comes to your side, sliding his arm around your waist and rubbing his thumb lightly against your hip.

“Oh, my love. What are you doing up?” Jaskier asked her, tilting his head to the side and offering her a little frown. 

“Can’t sleep.” She sniffled. Her brows were furrowed together as she looked around the room. Her little gray eyes landed on you. 

“You look sleepy.” You commented. She shook her head stubbornly. You began to stand but Jaskier stopped you. 

“I’ll go put her down.” 

You said nothing to him. 

He stood up from the table and went to Charlotte, picking her up and disappearing down the hallway with her. 

“You know I’d never let anything happen to him, Y/N.” Geralt spoke, his voice low and quiet.

Your eyes flickered over to the White Wolf before you looked down to the needle and trousers in your lap. 

“You can’t predict what fate could befall him.”

“I’ve tried talking him out of it, Y/N. He’s too damned stubborn.” Eskel shook his head. 

“I appreciate it, Eskel.” You smiled a little at him. 

***

“Daddy? Will you brush my hair?” Charlotte asked him, reaching across the bed to retrieve her brush resting on the nightstand. 

“Of course, my little love.”

Jaskier sat down on the edge of her bed and Charlotte happily climbed over into his lap. There, she sat perfectly still and let him brush through her thick dark hair. She was silent, which was unusual for the little girl, but perhaps it was because she was tired. It was late after all. 

“Daddy?”

“Yes, dear?” Jaskier put the brush down and began to braid her hair, choosing to do a more intricate braid that started at the top of her forehead. 

“I…. I heard you and-you and mommy yelling earlier.”

Jaskier stopped moving, his fingers stilling in her hair. 

Charlotte messed with the material to the quilt on her bed, picking at it and focusing her eyes on it. 

“Do you guys not love each other anymore?”

“Oh, Lottie.” Jaskier abandoned the braid and turned Charlotte around on his lap. Tears welled in her eyes and her bottom lip quivered. “That couldn’t be further from the truth, my dear heart.” 

A tear fell down her cheek but Jaskier was quick to wipe it away. He used the pad of his thumb to stroke the apple of her cheek. 

“There is no need for tears, darling. Mommy was just frustrated with me because she doesn’t want me to go away because she loves me dearly.”

“Why do-Why do you want to go away?” She hiccuped.

Jaskier leaned forward to kiss her forehead. 

“Uncle Geralt and Uncle Eskel need me.”

“So…. so you…. you still love mommy? You aren’t mad at her?”

“Of course I still love mommy, Charlotte.” Jaskier wrapped his arms firmly around her. “Sometimes we do get upset with each other, but that does not mean we don’t love each other. Mommy means the entire world to me, dear heart. And I love her more than I could ever tell you.”

“You love her a lot?” Charlotte raised her brows. 

Jaskier chuckled and nodded his head. 

“Yes. I love her a lot. And I love you a lot too.” He kissed her head. “Now, let’s finish your hair so you can get to sleep. Or else you’ll be grumpy in the morning.” 

***

You pushed the door to Charlotte’s room open, curious to see what your husband was up to. 

You found him lying on his back on Lottie’s bed with her on his chest. For a moment, you just stood there watching them, your chest tightening at the sight. 

You moved further into the room, kneeling down at the bedside. You brushed your fingers through Jaskier’s dark hair. 

His eyes fluttered open, his gaze finding yours. 

“Hi.” He smiled. 

“Your back will hurt if you stay lying here on her bed all night.” You told him. 

Jaskier lifted his head, looking down at Charlotte for a moment. 

“I don’t want to wake her.” He explained. You knew what he meant, nodding your head. 

You carefully moved her off of him, setting her down on her bed. He slipped off the bed with little grace as you leaned down to kiss her cheek. Jaskier did the same, and together the two of you left the room. 

“She heard us arguing.” He explained quietly. “She was, um, she was afraid we didn’t love each other anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous.” You turned and started to go down the hallway to your own room but he stopped you, his hand grabbing yours, and he pulled you into his arms. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips roughly. “I know you’re still angry with me. That you’re upset. But I love you.”

Your hands fisted his tunic, pulling him in closer for a moment before you were pushing him away. 

“I love you too, Jaskier.” You looked up at him. “But you’re taking a risk. You could…. What if you don’t come back?” You whispered. “What would we do without you?”

His fingertips brushed along the side of your face before his thumb parted your lips. 

“My love, my dear heart. You will never be without me.” He dipped his head down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be just fine. I’ll return to you in one piece.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

“How many times have you braided her hair?” You asked him. Charlotte had a bad habit of taking her hair out of whatever style it was in. Oftentimes, this drove Jaskier insane. He’d work so hard on carefully braiding Charlotte’s hair perfectly. Then five minutes later, she’d come back to him with a mess head that looked as if she’d never seen a brush.

“A good three or four times. I found out that Ms. Lottie here goes into her room and rubs her head on her blanket and pillows.”

Charlotte giggled. 

“Oh, Lottie.” You put your hands on your hips. “You mess up your hair so daddy has to refix it?”

“Told me she likes me playing with her hair.” Jaskier smiled brightly.

“She won’t even sit still for me.” You let your hands fall to your sides as you started to put away the groceries you’d bought at the market. 

“That’s cause she’s daddy’s girl.” Jaskier grinned. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

“Yeah!” She giggled happily. 

It warmed your heart to know Jaskier’s relationship with your daughter was so strong. She absolutely adored him. She couldn’t go more than ten minutes without being around him. 

You finished up putting the groceries away and then began to start dinner. Even though it was only a little after noon, it would take a while for the soup to cook.

“Hey, love?”

You lifted your head, finding your husband standing with Charlotte in his arms. 

“Did she fall asleep?” You asked, laughing just a little.

“Sure did. I’m going to lay her down.”

You nodded and watched him disappear down the hallway. Then you went back to chopping vegetables. 

Warm arms wrapped around you, hands pressing into your hips. You were carefully pulled back into Jaskier’s chest. 

“We have a little while to ourselves.” He kissed the space behind your ear. 

“Oh, love. You know I’d like nothing more than to spend time with you.” You put the knife down and turned around to face him. “But I have a headache. And I need to finish dinner.”

“We don’t have to romp around.” He brushed a few pieces of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll help you finish, then we can lay down. I think you could use a nap too.”

You agreed and gave him instructions on what to do. 

A little while later, the soup was over the fire and bubbling. 

Jaskier took your hand and led you into the main room. He let you go for a moment to retrieve a thick quilt from the bedroom. He folded the quilt then set it a safe distance from the fire. 

He sat down on the quilt, leaving his legs parted. 

“Let me braid your hair, dear heart.”

“Just don’t do it too tight.” You told him, getting down between his legs. 

You sat with your back to him. He pulled the hair tie out carefully and gave it to you to hold. He carefully brushed his fingers through your hair, being gentle with any tangles that stopped him. 

He began to sing softly, filling the silence with his angelic voice. 

Your eyes started to close and you felt sleepy just sitting there. Jaskier could tell you were about to fall asleep. You kept swaying a little and every now and then, you’d lean back against him.

“Sit up for me, dear heart.” He encouraged, gently tapping your shoulder. 

“M’so tired, Jask.”

“I know, my love. I’m almost done.”

A little while later, Jaskier was finished. He tied your hair and wrapped an arm around your torso.

“I’m going to get us a pillow and a blanket.”

You nodded, looking over your shoulder to him. You smiled gently, thankful that he was such a good husband.

He moved away from you and you lost the ability to keep yourself sitting up.

You laid down on the quilt on your side, putting your back to the fire. 

Jaskier was gone but a minute. He returned to you, laying the blanket over you and carefully coaxing you into lifting your head. Once the pillow was under your head, he settled behind you, wrapping one arm around you and tucking his knees behind yours. 

“Sweet dreams, my love.” He kissed the top of your head. 

“Thank you, Jask.” You murmured sleepily.

Jaskier settled with his head on what space remained on the pillow, burying his nose in your hair.