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“What do you mean I’m wrong? Certainly she was interested,” Jaskier takes another bite of the lemon cake and speaks with his mouth full, “or why did she wink at me, hmm? Nobody winks if they are not falling in love, even just a little. When it comes to the matter of the heart, my friend, I should be the expert between us.”
The sun is climbing high, and their little picnic will need to end soon due to the midday heat, but Geralt still lazes on the large blanket set up by himself earlier. His head is pillowed on one arm, and the other has raised to his forehead to block the sunlight.
What Geralt also set up in the morning before asking Jaskier to join him on this meadow is a basket of assorted pastries and wine. It sits beside him, now only half full, and Jaskier sits on the other side cross-legged, munching on the food without a care in the world.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Geralt replies, eyes closed. “I’m merely pointing out a fact, Jaskier, that you may not understand the matter of the heart as well as you believe.”
“Wow.” Jaskier licks the honey off his thumb. “I won’t take offense because you’re you, but let it be noted that I always know. Always! If someone is pursuing me, it will be so obvious the words might as well be written across their forehead.”
“Is it though? I reckon someone could be doing it right in your face and you wouldn’t recognize it.”
“Ha! I doubt it. The perks of being a noble and a bard, I suppose. They teach you all there is to courting until nothing is a surprise anymore.” Jaskier sighs to the blue sky. “When you think about it, it’s a bit sad, really.”
“Hmm.” Geralt’s eyes snap open, his gaze falling on Jaskier curiously. “And how would one go about courting, in your opinion?”
Jaskier’s eyebrows shoot up. The picnic has done such wonders for Geralt’s mood that he’s being talkative. Not to mention he came up with the very idea himself. A relaxing day out in a gorgeous meadow, right before the local summer festival. What a nice treat!
Finally, Geralt is learning the art of self-care. Jaskier should be so proud.
“Well, I will tell you,” Jaskier answers, grinning, “since you’re oh-so eager to learn, as rare as it happens. First lesson,” he starts, “good food.”
“Food?”
“Never overlook what a good meal can do to a person. For you, Geralt, if you ever decide to court someone—whoever the lucky sod may be—always start with filling their stomach. Remember, no one has the mood for romance while being their hungriest and crankiest self.”
“Oh,” Geralt says. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Take notes then!”
Jaskier preens while finishing the cake. Some crumbs have fallen onto Geralt’s tunic, so he picks it out with sticky fingers and sucks away the last of the frosting.
Geralt pauses, pursing his lips before speaking.
“How’s the cake, Jask?”
“Fantastic!” Jaskier answers, licking his lips and toying with the idea of eating another. He probably shouldn’t; he’s too full already. “Rude of me to not have thanked you. So thank you, Geralt! But where did you buy these? It tastes just like the store I tried a few years ago.”
“It’s the same one. You mentioned—”
“Anyway, don’t sidetrack me,” Jaskier continues excitedly, rubbing his hands together. “Secondly, plan a nice date.”
Geralt lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Go on,” he then prompts.
Jaskier straightens his back in all seriousness. “It is customary to ensure that your beloved enjoys the courtship. Thus, you must pick the right activities. The first date is particularly important. You want to do something that allows you two to get to know each other, so it can’t be too strenuous. Horse-riding would be a no-go. You can barely hear each other and it ruins both of your hair.”
“Hmm,” Geralt muses. “So something quiet? An outdoor activity that also provides some privacy.”
“Indeed! And location matters too.”
“Like a place with a beautiful view. Good weather, lots of greenery and sunshine,” Geralt adds.
He’s looking directly into Jaskier’s eyes, unblinking.
Jaskier hums, impressed.
“Now you’re getting it! Better with somewhere to sit too, in case you get tired but don’t want to leave yet. You know, when there is a connection, all the time in the world isn’t enough.”
“Two decades could be too short.”
“Exactly!”
Jaskier pats Geralt on the chest, surprised that his witcher is learning so fast. Oh, he can make a romantic out of him yet.
“Jaskier.”
Geralt clears his throat, opens his mouth and closes it a few times. He seems to struggle to say something, but it could just be Geralt’s usual broody self acting up with all this talk about love and feelings.
“Never mind,” he simply says in the end. “Is there a third point to this whole…courting lesson?”
“The third one,” Jaskier says softly, “is the most important of them all.”
At that, Geralt sits on the blanket so he’s at eye level with Jaskier. He’s listening so carefully it’s unlike him. Jaskier would tease but something about the way Geralt carries himself tells him that he should speak carefully too.
“The third and last lesson in the art of courting.” Jaskier picks his words carefully. “Just…show that you care.”
Geralt blinks.
“That easy?”
Jaskier nods. “It’s that easy. Listen to them, pay attention, and remember the details. You deny it but there’s planty of caring in you, Geralt. It’s the showing that could give you trouble. The smallest things make a difference, but they are the biggest ones too. Showing your heart is what matters at the end of the day, when it’s in the right place. And I know yours often is—well, underneath all the grumbles and frowns.”
Geralt snorts. “As you so often point out.”
Except Geralt is neither grumbling nor frowning. He’s giving Jaskier that look again.
“You are giving me that look again.”
“What look?” Geralt asks gently.
Jaskier ducks his head, looking away from how ridiculously sweet this man can be. “Like you are smiling but you don’t want to, so you end up only smiling with your eyes.”
He wonders if Geralt will look at his beloved like this when he courts them. The idea makes Jaskier a bit disappointed, somehow, and he realizes that no matter how eager he was to teach Geralt all these tricks, he may not necessarily want to see them put into use.
The day is truly too hot. He’s not thinking straight anymore.
“Come on,” Geralt says suddenly, after a moment of silence. “We should go to the town hall. The celebration is starting.”
He stands from the ground and pulls Jaskier with him. The air will soon be scorching and the bright sun makes Jaskier squint, but the smile on Geralt’s face is blooming into a real one gradually.
“Yes,” Jaskier says, shaking off those stray thoughts. “I’ve been wanting to see this one for ages.”
“You said.”
“Well, then. Chop chop. Let’s not miss the beginning. Did you know the local children will sing an ode to summer? They’d rehearse a cute little dance too. Even without seeing it, I’m sure it’ll become my favorite thing in the world by the end of the day!”
“I know. It’s why we’re here, Jaskier.”
Geralt looks all but fond when he begins wrapping the picnic blanket and putting away the left-over pastries, and he cocks his head when Jaskier jumps on his tiptoes impatiently.
“Go on, then,” he says. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Jaskier squeezes Geralt on the arm in thanks. There’s a wildflower lodged in his clothes but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Don’t forget the lessons.” Jaskier winks. “You could use it one day.”
The golden sun surrounds Geralt, making it hard to discern his expression, but the smile lingers in his eyes.
“You know what, Jaskier. I just might.”