Work Text
Even a few weeks past the first breakthrough growths of the new year, the Blue Mountains are still cold enough that Jaskier, far more suited to the coastal climates of his homelands, is wearing several layers of clothing under the fur he ‘borrowed’ from Geralt.Of course, Jaskier has been given more than a few furs of his own since the night he was delivered to the gates of Kaer Morhen as a tribute from Cidaris, scared out of his mind and half-frozen. But Geralt had taken this particular fur off himself immediately to drape around the shivering, terrified omega before scaring all nine hells out of the knights for thinking the Warlord would take human sacrifices. Jaskier remembers thinking he’d shouted loud enough for King Ethain to hear him all the way down the mountain, but wrapped in the Alpha’s scent, even with several of the warlord’s Alpha lieutenants crowded close for no more reason than to keep him warm, he’d felt the fear leave him. Not out of shock or how near he was to passing out, but out of a sudden sense of… rightness.Geralt’s breath was steaming like billows out of his nose when he turned from the knights stumbling over themselves to get back down the mountain, his eyes a beautiful harvest moon glow in the darkness when they landed on Jaskier. It felt like nothing else in the world existed in that moment and Jaskier knew he could finally stop running.Jaskier never stood a chance against falling for Geralt, but to be fair, he never fought it very hard.Geralt fought it pretty hard, because he’s a noble piece of shit prone to fits of martyrdom, but he’s not a fool. He can smell deceit and hear a lying heartbeat; when Jaskier had declared his intention to court Geralt for as long as it took, everyone had seen it for the truth that it was.An omega courting an Alpha is unheard of in the rest of the continent, but Kaer Morhen’s lack of decorum made Jaskier bold and it’d paid off. It was fun, flustering the seemingly unflappable Warlord of the North, but more than that, it was heartening. Every gift—from food to flowers, love songs and lullabies, or learning a skill to be of use to his new witcher companions—made Geralt’s ears go pink, his eyes darting away even as he accepted the tokens with hesitant joy swelling in his scent.The day Geralt had, in front of his lieutenants and every other witcher left alive, gone to his knees and held his wrists out to Jaskier—an act of submission an Alpha only ever shows their mate—the room had erupted into shouting and applause. Jaskier had launched himself into Geralt’s arms hard enough to take them both to the ground. The smell of Geralt’s love and joy, the sound of his soft laughter finally pressed right against Jaskier’s ear had made him fall in love again twice over that very moment.Today, walking quickly through town, Jaskier is desperately trying to cling to the joy of those memories to keep the rest of his breakfast down. The warmth and scent of the fur tucked up to his nose certainly help, and the bite of the Wolf medallion into his palm as he clutches it keeps him focused. He’s not frightened, exactly. Honestly, he’s a little ecstatic, but that is currently overshadowed by… concern.One of the many reasons Geralt had been tasked with leading the remaining witchers is also one of the many reasons he’d tried to deny Jaskier’s affections in the first place.“I was sent… through the Trials again,” Geralt had explained haltingly, without looking at him, without touching him, towards the end of Jaskier’s courtship attempts. “They… the mages tested things on me.” The smell of his anger and disgust was brief, intentionally snuffed out so thoroughly that Jaskier was certain someone less familiar with him would think they imagined it entirely. His face was a blank mask when he turned over his shoulder, gaze mostly hidden by his hair, “It made me stronger, yes, made my senses sharper, but it… sterilized me. Even if I share your heat, I… I can never father your pups, omega.”And Jaskier had been angry, that this lovely, gentle Alpha would be denied the children that far worse Alphas are able to sire by the dozen. And yes, Jaskier had even been a little sad that he’d never be able to give Geralt the family he so clearly desired, that he’d never get the chance to bear their children, but it hadn’t been a devastating sadness. He’d mourned the thought for a moment before he sighed out the worst of the grief and, with love in his hands, took Geralt by the face.“There will be children in these halls that need us more than I need to carry my own litter,” he’d promised, resting their foreheads together, “and I want to be your mate more than I want to be a nursing mother.”It had been true. On some level it’s still true, and yet…The bloat in his stomach hadn’t gone away, and the nausea had started to come like clockwork every morning, and this morning Vesemir had nearly broken his neck whipping around to look at him with wide eyes, raising a reverent hand to nearly touch his stomach. That had been more than enough for Jaskier’s mind to leap to the correct conclusion, honestly, but Triss had been the one to confirm it.The beloved Buttercup of Kaer Morhen has a new little flower budding inside him.Jaskier’s emotions have been on a swing set all morning, cycling between elation and fear and shock and confusion so quickly it’s making his morning sickness edge into the afternoon.And Geralt isn’t due home from his month on the Path for another two nights at least.With him gone, Eskel is functioning as Head of the Wolves. Jaskier doesn’t want to burst into his office and give him a heart attack.The littlest brother, however, should be doing fuck all right about now.Lambert snatches open the door to his and Aiden’s rooms before Jaskier even knocks. “What? I can hear your heartbeat from down the fucking hall, what happened?” Jaskier bullies his way through the open door, grabbing Lambert by the wrist before he can so much as turn to close it. “Jask, what happ…!?” his voice trails off when Jaskier tugs open his furs and pushes Lambert’s palm against the little swelling on his stomach. Lambert opens his mouth to say something several times before cradling Jaskier’s stomach a little more carefully and nearly holding his breath.Jaskier doesn’t speak as Lambert slowly goes to his knees, squinting at Jaskier’s stomach like he’ll be able to see through all the cloth and skin. His eyes are wide when he looks up at Jaskier. “No, fucking—” he launches upright, very carefully catching Jaskier in a hug that lifts him off his feet “—way! No fucking way, you’re pregnant!?”Jaskier isn’t sure if he’s closer to laughing or crying as he nods, smiling at Lambert through his tears. “Triss confirmed it this morning. We’re having a baby!”“Holy shit,” Lambert says, pushing him back by the shoulders to look at his stomach again like it’s a marvel. “Holy shit, are you—?” he shakes his head, clearly rerouting towards a different question. “Wait, is Geralt back yet? How are you going to tell him?”The queasy bit of nerves is back in Jaskier’s stomach. “I don’t know, that’s why I came to you,” he says, turning to pace the room.Lambert looks at him like he’s grown feathers and a second head. “What?”“You know I can’t just tell him!” Jaskier replies, just as incredulously.“Why the fuck not?”“Because we already said…” The instinctual theatricality drains from Jaskier. He wraps his arms around himself, lowering his voice as he continues carefully, “We’ve talked about the mutagens, some, the extra Trials he went through.” He almost regrets mentioning it when it makes Lambert’s expression goes blank, leaves him standing a little stiffer. “It… hurt him, you know? Like,” he rolls his eyes at the understatement of the millennia. “I mean, obviously the Trials are painful, and I’m ever grateful for our new mages figuring out how to undo that particular atrocity, but when they told him he was sterilized…” He has to swallow for a moment before he can continue. “That was different. He wants children, I know he does.”Lambert doesn’t deny that, just eyes him carefully for a moment. “Do you?”“Well, yes, but…” Jaskier pinches his lips together as he looks away, trying to gather his words. “I promised him I was alright with never carrying pups. The children of Kaer Morhen, the ones that can face the trials and even the ones that can’t, those were to be our children. And—don’t get me wrong!” He turns back to Lambert, quickly raising a hand. “They will be. I know most of them attach to the witchers or Schools that bring them in, but any that need parenting we will welcome happily into our arms, it’s just…” He shrugs a little weakly. “How am I supposed to tell him the one promise I made that finally got him to accept me as his mate doesn’t mean anything anymore? I’m…” He strokes a hand over his stomach, feeling at once giddy and terrified. “I want this baby, Lambert, so badly. I just don’t want Geralt to think this changes anything we…” He sighs running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. How would you react?”“Geralt and I aren’t the same person,” Lambert says drily.Jaskier sneers at him. “Yeah, I’m very clear on that part, thank you, I—”“Jask.” Lambert is remarkably gentle about this interruption. His expression is still a little unfriendly, but that’s pretty par for the course for him. Jaskier knows better than to think it means anything. His eyes are still soft when he comes forward to take Jaskier by the shoulders and steer him towards a seat. “You’re going to be fine,” he promises. “Look, Geralt may freak at first, because you know how he does the whole…” he twirls his hand, rolling his eyes, “running off to the mountain whenever anyone makes an emotional floorboard creek.” Jaskier laughs at that turn of phrase, but doesn’t interrupt. “Anyway, he’ll freak the fuck out, but then he’ll fall all over himself and get that stupid doe-eyed look he always gets around you. It’ll be annoying as fuck, but we’re all gonna love this pup and you’re going to be fine.”The unusually earnest display does wonders to quell the worst of Jaskier’s nerves. Lambert has never been an optimist nor a liar. If he says everything is going to be okay, it damn well will be. Jaskier breathes, feeling his heart pounding in his chest with joy and imagining the day he’ll be able to feel his baby, too. He reaches up to hold Lambert’s wrists, a quick squeeze of gratitude, “Lambert?”“Yeah?”Jaskier laughs, tears spilling down his face. “I’m gonna be a mother.”Lambert chuckles, pulling Jaskier forward into a hug to let him smile against his chest. “Yeah, you are, buttercup,” he says, patting his back, “and a damn good one, too.”-There isn’t much that can make a witcher sick.Of course, they all spent the Trials sick as dogs and most of them died like dogs, too, but witchers don’t experience the common maladies of man. Short of some high doses of some very strong toxins—or a few too many trips through portals in quick succession—witchers don’t often have to deal with feeling queasy.The Path has shown Geralt plenty of horrific things, the worst humans have to offer each other, the devastation of disasters, monsters, and war. It’s toughened him. He often thinks he’s got more callouses than feelings some days, but he’s never truly unaffected. He learns to stomach atrocities and soldier on, because that’s what the world needs him for. He doesn’t have time to feel sick, to lay down and weep about the bad things that happen; witchers don’t get sick to their stomachs over emotions.And yet, Geralt is currently bent double trying not to heave.It’d taken him more effort than he cares to think about to get away from Lambert’s rooms without being spotted. He’d rushed back to Kaer Morhen, rushed after the last contract, desperately missing his new mate only to find him pregnant.By his own brother.Nothing he has faced has ever gutted him quite like this.Happiness has always been an ephemeral concept for Geralt and one soaked in loss at that. Witchers were never meant to have good lives, certainly, and any attempt to the contrary was immediately and bloodily corrected. They are not allowed to leave the Path and want lives like humans, Geralt had known that, but he’d been tired. He’d been tired of the running and the hatred, tired of neutrality that didn’t protect anyone, tired of only seeing his brothers once a year and his cousins less than that, so he’d hoped. He’d called on his brothers, and they’d called on their kin and they all hoped so hard they got a damn city out of it.A functioning city where they could live in peace and work with their neighbors. A city where they were sent tributes, a city where they were sent Jaskier and Geralt, after his initial appalled rage… let himself hope again.Geralt let himself hope that things were finally looking up and they were heading for an era where happiness could be more than just a dream, where they were allowed to love without it being thrown in their faces. Jaskier had never once smelled of fear. By just their second meeting, he smelled rather strongly of attraction, and then love shortly after that. Jaskier had fucking courted him like that was something witchers were worthy of without an ounce of deceit. Jaskier loves him, Geralt doesn’t doubt that, not really, but still, he… How could he?The promises he’d made let Geralt feel safe sinking to his knees, offering up his whole self to someone who grinned and grabbed him with both hands and promised to never let go. But now, in his own words, those promises meant nothing. Another Alpha had notched his bedpost and left him with child.And to top it off, Jaskier was far enough along that Lambert could already hear the child’s heartbeat.How far back had Jaskier betrayed him? How could he have betrayed him so thoroughly without Geralt knowing? What good are all these sharpened fucking senses if he didn’t even notice his mate had set his sights on another Alpha—?The weak sound that escapes Geralt’s mouth would shame him if he could feel a single thing past his despair. He covers his mouth and forcibly slows his breathing, fighting back the grey threatening the edges of his vision.Geralt can’t be here.It hurts too much, he can’t even breathe around the feeling yet, and he cannot. be. here.Grabbing his bag right back off the floor where he hasn’t even had time to unpack it, he’s biting his lips to keep from genuinely descending into tears when he freezes halfway out his own window. He has an inkpot and quill, a griffin feather he hunted himself, that he’d brought back for Jaskier. The Alpha urge to provide for his mate, even in trinkets, stalling him long enough to buy the ink and nib because he knew Jaskier would like it and… and…Fuck, he loves Jaskier. He truly, with all his heart loves his omega, enough to face the shame of being cuckolded by his own brother. Gods, Lambert has never been the kindest man alive, but Geralt was sure he loved Aiden too much to betray him, even if he wouldn’t extend the same courtesy to Geralt.Geralt can’t be here, but he loves his family, even when they hurt him, and can’t have them think something’s happened to him and come looking. He needs time. His hand is shaking when he takes out the inkpot and feather, but he tries to make it clear. He loves Jaskier and does not fault him for seeking what Geralt cannot give him, but he needs time. He will forgive Lambert, especially for giving his mate what he obviously so desperately wanted, but he needs time. He will care for this child, will look past their parentage and do right by them, but he needs time. He will come back, because he will never, ever abandon his family and their cause, but gods, please, he just needs time.The letter stays, front and center on his desk, when he slips back out of the Keep and up into the densest part of the Blue Mountains.A little too distraught to pay attention to mask his trail, Geralt does his best to just keep his focus on not breaking an ankle or wandering into a monster. He couldn’t fight like this without letting blind rage take over and he doesn’t like fighting without knowing how he’ll come out the other side, not even today.So he walks, and walks, almost in a trance, well past night fall, well into the next dawn until he finds the cave where they’d finally cleared out Old Speartip years ago. He should hunt, he knows. He’s barely got any trail rations left from his month on the path—perks of being able to afford real food—and he hadn’t eaten before coming home yesterday, intending to get breakfast in the great hall. He should be hungry.Instead, he’s just alternating between nauseous and completely numb.Giving into the sort of weakness that only comes after good sense fails, Geralt lets himself slowly crumble to the ground. He forces his thoughts down as low as they will go, as deep inside him as he can reach and meditates until he loses track of everything around him.Awareness snaps back to him several hours later—after the cold has set in enough to ache every old injury he has—when he senses a presence coming towards him.Geralt’s eyes fly open and his heart is immediately in his throat when he sees Lambert standing at the foot of the cave, suited up in his full hunting gear and visibly seething.In their many decades as brothers, Geralt has seen the full spectrum of Lambert’s emotions and knows very well how quickly his temper flares hot. It’s mellowed some in recent years, fewer fights that draw blood or break bone, but it’s still present enough to be legendary.This is something new.Never in his life has he smelled so much rage pouring off Lambert, his face fully flushed as he heaves for breath at the mouth of the cave. He’s shaking like he’s physically restraining himself from ripping into Geralt with his bare hands. Geralt is expecting him to start screaming, to hear a particularly vulgar list of swears he’d never be able to think of on his most creative day. He’s expecting to get jumped and to honestly have to give his all to keep Lambert from taking out his throat. He’s braced for it.Yet somehow, Lambert taking a single step forward and whispering, “Have you lost your senses?” without a single swear present is one of the scariest things he has ever fucking heard in his life.Geralt swallows. “I don’t know why you get to ask me that.”“What does that mean?” Lambert replies sharply.“It means the only reason I haven’t killed you is because you are my brother,” Geralt grits out and hates the way his voice splinters apart before he even finishes. There are tears burning behind his eyes as he shoots to his feet, “and my mate loves you.”Lambert stays frozen for a single heartbeat before he pops off like a grapeshot. “You have lost your fucking senses!!” he bellows, and follows it up with a string of Elder curses that makes Geralt very, very glad Lambert isn’t any sort of mage. “Do you seriously—?” the anger in his voice is eclipsed by something like hurt, “Do you seriously think I’m that much of a piece of shit? That I’d do that do you?” Geralt barely has time to open his mouth before Lambert strides forward and kicks his gear, sending it flying across the cave. “You think I’d do that to my brother and to my mate? Is that the kind of man you think I am?”The knot in Geralt’s chest squeezes tighter. “I think anyone would be a fool not to love Jaskier,” he answers carefully.“Of course I fucking love him, he’s my brother, too!” Lambert snaps with far more honest feelings than he’d typically give voice to aloud. “You fucking dimwit, I wouldn’t fuck him anymore than I’d fuck you!” he says finally getting close enough to shove Geralt and send him staggering backwards. “I should cut your worthless cock off myself! My pregnant brother is home alone with nothing but a letter from his numbskull of a mate accusing him of being loose!!”“That’s not what I said!” Geralt defends, because he very distinctly said he didn’t blame Jaskier.Lambert is having none of it. “You as good as called the pup a bastard!!”“It can’t be mine!” Geralt explodes. “You don’t—You were too young to see what they did to me, I can’t—”“Oh, fuck off, we’ve all heard the stories!” Lambert snaps, sneering. “Boo-fucking-hoo, the great white wolf had to go through the trials twice and it made him sensitive. And apparently poured acid all over the part of your brain meant for good sense.” He flings an arm out to motion all around them. “There is nobody in the whole godsdamn countryside that doesn’t know Jaskier is yours. Cidaris shat him on our doorstep and he had every chance to run for years, and he picked you every shitting time! He picked you and we all watched it happen! We know how much he loves you, how much you love him. Even if he were going to cheat on you, none of us are fucking stupid enough, or cruel enough to—” He loses his steam and turns away suddenly, scrubbing a hand over his face.Geralt feels adrift, guilt and confusion tightening his throat. “I’m… If it wasn’t you, I’m sor—” Faster than Geralt has time to react to, Lambert's fist is cracking across his nose. The blow is more of a shock than it has any real right to be, sends him sprawling back to the floor.“You’re not listening! Pull your head out of your ass and dig the shit out of your ears,” Lambert shouts, looking alarmingly close to tears. “If Jaskier wouldn’t do that to you and none of your kinsman would do that to you, do the fucking math!” He stares down at Geralt like he’s truly questioning his intelligence. “Who do you think is more likely a liar? Your mate or some dickhead mage with a god complex from over a century ago?”Put like that, the question draws Geralt up short.Magic—science hasn’t changed a lot recently, but their understanding of themselves and what was done to them has certainly changed. The mages they work with now aren’t sadists, for one, and work primarily to save people, not mutate them beyond recognition. Nobody who would be killed by the Trials will be forced to face them and certainly nobody would face them twice. There is only so much they can compare the experience to when they are unwilling to do the kind of damage that was done to Geralt.How carefully would one of those old mages have checked Geralt’s reproductive organs? They had always said that breeding witchers was too much work, and work Geralt is thankfully ignorant of the process of, so what difference would it have made to them? He’s never gotten anyone pregnant before, but it’s not like he’s ever been given the opportunity to be alone with, let alone fuck, let alone share a heat with any omegas before Jaskier.And they did share his heat, the whole time through. It was the first shared heat either of them had ever had. They couldn’t bear to be away from each other for longer than it took to grab water from the pump in the bathroom. It’s not impossible to get pregnant outside of a heat, but…Geralt had even thought to himself before he left that he’d never sensed dishonesty on Jaskier.Every time they’d laid together, he’d only ever smelled like himself—chamomile, honey-love, mulled-wine-lust, sunshine-joy. Lambert’s scent was there, of course, all the witchers, but especially the Wolves, are tactile and Jaskier loves being touched. If he can find his way into someone’s lap or work his hands into their hair, or thread their fingers together, he will. It’s never been anything untoward, and honestly, Geralt has seen Jaskier get dumped unceremoniously onto the ground if he focuses on Geralt a little too long while someone’s got him in their arms. His affection has never strayed into arousal with anyone else and certainly no one has done any more than tease him about it.Faced with the idea of his mate being pregnant, Geralt had jumped to the conclusion that he must’ve missed something Jaskier was hiding from him.Geralt hadn’t even spoken to Jaskier; he’d listened in on a conversation he didn’t have any context for and hadn’t waited for answers. He looks up at Lambert, at the anger and pain on his face and remembers thinking he never would’ve thought Lambert would betray Aiden’s trust like that.Lambert didn’t hike all these miles through the wilderness to come clean about anything, because there’s nothing for him to come clean about. Jaskier loves Aiden, too, and would never be instrumental to causing him pain, let alone his own mate who he has only ever handled so very gently, with all the love he has to give.Jaskier is home alone, thinking he’s been abandoned. Geralt’s omega is home alone, pregnant with his child, and believing his Alpha thinks he’s a cheater.“Fuck,” Geralt says, putting his head in his hands, panic and horror suddenly making his ears ring, his mind turning to static.
Fuck.
-The sound of Jaskier’s heartbeat is not loud enough to drown out the soft thumping of the new Wolf cub in his stomach, growing stronger every day. Aiden meditates to the slightly off kilter rhythm of the sounds to try and fight off the way the smell of Jaskier’s grief is making him want to go berserk.Since he got that horrid letter, Jaskier hasn’t let anyone into his chambers except Aiden and the mages, but Aiden is the one who crawls into his nest to curl around him when he’s taken over by a panic attack. Today he’s been mostly numb, drifting off with his face pressed against Aiden’s collarbone as he purrs, stroking his hand down the younger omega’s back. Triss had checked him over today and promised the little one was well, which had earned them a weak smile and a brief burst of relief through the scent of his sadness. His hands are still resting over the barely-there swelling of his stomach like he already wants to cradle the baby, and Aiden sighs, wishing he had that comfort.There’s been a cloud hanging over The Keep since the news spread.From what Aiden has heard, none of the others are quite as fucking dense as Geralt and there have been no whispers of cheating. Most of the anxiety in the air is just from their chief omega being in distress when there’s nothing they can do for him. Geralt may be their leader and have their undying loyalty, but Jaskier came in and won everyone’s hearts as fast as he could talk. Warlord or no, Geralt is going to be in deep shit with everyone when he comes home. Keeping the peace is likely going to depend on how forgiving Jaskier is feeling.Right now, it’s clear all that Jaskier is feeling is shock and heartache, but Aiden can’t exactly blame him. He tries to call on the mothering instincts he’s never really had before and nudges his nose into Jaskier’s hair until he hums at him in question.“You should eat something,” Aiden says softly, “I think it’s time to feed the baby.”The second half of that is a cheap shot, but it’s been more effective at getting Jaskier to get up than anything else at this point. Jaskier sniffs and nods, but presses tighter into Aiden’s arms. “In a moment,” he says, “I think Julita made cherry tarts this morning?”Julita has not, but Aiden is willing to bet she’d find a way to bake him a pie of pure gold plums if he thought to ask. “Gweld will bring some up with lunch,” he says loud enough that he knows Gweld, one of the rotating cast of worriers that have been lingering in the hallway outside Jaskier’s room, has heard him.Jaskier lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Thank you, Gweld,” he says and Aiden hears his footsteps pause just long enough to rap a quick, acknowledging rhythm on the wall before he continues on. “I don’t mean to worry you all, I just…”Aiden smells the rising tears and squeezes Jaskier tighter, kissing the top of his head. “It’s not your fault, buttercup,” he says, and not for the first time. “You’re the one who taught the Wolves that swallowing too many feelings will just make you ill. Hey,” he starts suddenly, a thought occurring to him, “you want to start a yowl?”Jaskier pulls back to blink up at him in confusion, eyes rimmed pink. “A what?”“S’a thing the Cats used to do more often back when things weren’t so… good?” Aiden waffles the word a bit, because it’s more complicated than could be explained easily, but before they came to Kaer Morhen, on most levels, the Cats definitely weren’t good. “One of us would just start screaming, just to let it out, and the others would all scream back, just to let them know they were heard. We haven’t had one in a while.” He shrugs. “Might feel good.”“What, we just… scream?” Jaskier asks, confused, but not mocking. “Won’t that concern some people?”“I mean, it sounds kinda specific when you start it, before shit gets really crazy. Come on,” Aiden says, sitting them both up before tucking a fur around Jaskier’s shoulders. “I’ll start it off for us,” he says, guiding Jaskier over to the window. Opening it already helps some of the lingering scent of despair escape. Aiden leans out and takes a deep breath of the brisk air before he lets the yowl build up, a familiar call that eventually tears wild out of his throat.Jaskier startles at the sound, staring wide eyed at Aiden, but then Axel and Cedric call back, along with a few of the trainees clearly having been clued in to join. It makes Jaskier blink in shock, but he joins in. He’s hesitant at first, sounding more like he intends to sing, but then his voice raises to a croaky shout. A moment later, he takes a steadying breath and just fucking wails.The sound makes Aiden’s hair stand on end, honestly, but yeah, that’s the feeling Jaskier needs to let out. The yowls of the Cats are joined by howling Wolves and crowing Griffins, the cries of Vipers and Manticores banging their fists, cups, and knives against any surface nearby. Every School raises their voice with their omega.Eventually, the sound bleeds into song, that horrible drinking song Jaskier wrote about the different schools’ trainees getting stuck up a tree, everyone quickly joining in as they count up the branches. Jaskier screaming fades into song, too, choked up with laughter that quickly dissolves into sobs.That’s okay, though, Aiden thinks as he turns to wrap Jaskier in his arms. That needs to come out, too. The less sadness he swallows down to the pup, the better. So, Aiden stands there and lets Jaskier dig his hands into his back as he cries into his shoulder.As the ruckus from outside dies down, Aiden snaps to attention when he hears Gweld legitimately snarling outside the door. He stiffens suddenly enough that Jaskier notices and freezes in his arms, startled silent. “What?” he blurts quietly, drawing back to get a look at Aiden’s face, tears streaming down his cheeks, but his eyes wide and alarmed now. “What is it?”Aiden doesn’t answer right away because he recognizes Geralt’s voice coming down the hall and—oh, there’s that madness he’d been carefully holding back. His vision starts to grey around the edges as he sets a hand on Jaskier’s shoulders to push him down to sit on the bed. He tries to breathe steadily, holding onto the thought that the only reason Jaskier is so hurt right now is because he so loves Geralt. He loves Geralt and wouldn’t want to see him torn limb from limb, so Aiden can’t do that.It is pretty damn hard to remember that when the knock on the door sends Jaskier’s heartbeat racing away, but Aiden focuses.“…Yes?” Jaskier says shakily, hands coming up to hold Aiden’s wrist, restraining or comfort seeking Aiden isn’t entirely sure.The door opens to reveal Geralt already on his knees, face pale save for the faint green of a fading bruise across the bridge of his nose and left eye. At first, he truly only has eyes for Jaskier, his expression buckling when he takes in Jaskier’s state, his teary, swollen eyes, the confusion and hurt in his voice when he says, “Geralt?”Geralt looks like he means to stand, to move forward, but the growl building up in Aiden’s chest has his gaze snapping, as always, to the threat in the room. He stills, his face paling by another degree.Aiden knows he already looks like murder personified, but still goes the extra step to show all his teeth at once. “The next words out of your mouth had better be a damn good apology,” he hisses, “or I’ll pry your tongue out of your head myself.”There are several growls of agreement from outside the doorway.Far from arguing, Geralt bows forward to press his forehead to the ground, his wrists turned up on either side of his head. His voice is thick when he starts, “Omega Mine, I—”“Am I?” Jaskier cuts in wetly. “Am I still yours, Geralt, or am I just a faithless whore?”The words make Geralt flinch down his whole body, grinding his face a little harder into the floor. “There is no apology I could make that would be enough for me to deserve forgiveness for making you doubt that.”“Then why?” Jaskier demands breathlessly. “Why would you ever think—?”“I didn’t think,” Geralt answers immediately. “I didn’t think at all, I should’ve…!” He takes a deep breath when his voice starts to run away from him, raising up enough to look Jaskier in the face. “I questioned the wrong thing, the wrong person,” he says slower, “I… It had been reality for me for as long as I can remember, that I would never…” He swallows, his gaze dropping down to Jaskier’s stomach for a moment. “That they had broken the part of me that could be a father. That was just how the world worked, but…”The usual adoration in Geralt’s eyes when he talks to Jaskier is cut through with pain and guilt, but just as present as it ever has been. “But you. Jaskier, you have turned my world upside down every day since you entered it. Of course, of course I should’ve trusted you to do it in this, too, I…” He shakes his head, lowering his gaze back to the floor when his lip wobbles. “I apologize. Truly, I am so sorry, Omega Mine. I will do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness to do right by you and…” he has to let out a heavy breath before he can finish, “and our child.”Jaskier whimpers, a tiny sound that hurts Aiden deep in his heart. He hasn’t let go of Aiden’s wrist, his grip only tightening as Geralt had spoken. Now he turns away from him, pressing his face against Aiden’s forearm. Aiden knows him well enough to know he’s just trying to gather his thoughts, stands silently letting his friend draw strength from that point of contact. It was a decent apology by his measure, but if Jaskier still wants Geralt thrown from the room, well, Aiden’s already opened a perfectly good window.“I am…” Jaskier starts waveringly, before sucking in a breath. He seems to pull himself upright with some of the noble sensibilities he has seen very little use for since coming to Kaer Morhen. He still looks stricken, but he folds his hands in his lap and keeps his back straight as he turns to face Geralt. His jaw is clenched as he forces himself to speak evenly, lowly. “I am so fucking angry, but that just—it hurt, Geralt!” he exclaims, clutching at the front of his tunic, “I thought I could literally feel my heart failing me! You cannot hurt me like this again, I can’t take it again.”“Never,” Geralt promises immediately, “I swear on my life, I—”“No,” Jaskier interrupts sharply, “not your life. Not even mine.” He settles a shaking hand on his stomach. “This is our baby and they will not grow up with you doubting them, I won’t have it,” he snarls, new tears welling in his eyes. “I know how much being the bastard child hurts. If you have any doubt, send us away now, before—”“Never,” Geralt growls in horror before Aiden’s own vehement denial can escape his throat. “I was a fool to doubt you to begin with, I will not make the same mistake twice.”Jaskier sniffs, roughly wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I am going to try very, very hard to believe that your doubts had more to do with you than what you think of my character, of my love for you,” his voice breaks and Geralt’s expression breaks with it. “I will do it, my heart, but it will take time.”The worst wounds always do, Aiden knows, and given that Geralt had asked for the same thing in that damned letter, he better not say a word against it.Geralt doesn’t, simply nodding shortly. “Thank you,” he says softly. “What would you have me…? What do you want, Jaskier?” he asks plainly, “Name it, anything.”Shaking his head, Jaskier pushes his hair back and lets out a breath. “I’m too tired to stay angry with you right now. We’ll have to talk, gods, will we, but can you—? Wait.” He had started to reach out but draws his arms back sharply, sniffing once and glaring at Geralt. “Did you apologize to your brother?”A valid question, actually, that reminds Aiden of the taste of Lambert’s rage and pain when he’d read Geralt’s letter.“I—Yes. Yes, I did and I…” Geralt turns to look up at Aiden. “I am sorry, Aiden. I didn’t mean… I know this hurt far more people than Jaskier. That was never my intent. I know…” Guilt eclipses his expression, but he catches himself before he can look away. “I know my brother. I never should’ve doubted him or his love for you, either.”Aiden sniffs at him dismissively, which is better than the full-on hiss he wants to let out. “You can keep your innards,” he grumbles, only looking away when Jaskier lays a hand on his hip.“Will you go to him?” Jaskier asks softly.Aiden doesn’t want to leave Jaskier alone with this lunkhead, but the relief in his scent is starting to bleed through the heartache and pain that has soaked into the room. He also knows how deeply his Alpha was hurt by all this and does feel the tug to go to him, so he trusts Jaskier to know what he needs.Bending down, he presses a kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. “If you need me, just yowl,” he whispers. Jaskier has dredged up a smile by the time he stands upright. Aiden cuts one last sharp in Geralt’s direction. “One of us will bring up lunch. They need to eat.”Geralt’s expression buckles for a moment at the wording, but he nods sharply. “I will ensure… they eat.”Nodding, Aiden pretends not to notice the tears in Geralt’s eyes as he staggers to his feet. He steps into the hallway to find several others gathered around, an even split between exasperation and relief on their faces. They all hear Geralt choke out, “Omega Mine, mother of my child,” just before Jaskier begins to sob anew, the sound quickly muffled, likely by Geralt’s chest. “I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you both.”Aiden sighs and closes the door.-That was fucking exhausting.Lambert is propped up against the wall at the end of the hallway with his head leaned back against the cool bricks in the vain hope that it will do something for the headache pounding behind his eyes. It’d taken a full day to realize Geralt had come and gone again before they found that godsdamned letter and Lambert had torn off after his big idiot brother without pause in between. Or, well, with very little pause in between. He was frozen long enough to watch the blood drain from Jaskier’s face and sour shock take over his scent. Then he hesitated long enough to shove Aiden into Jaskier’s room before promising to fix this.Two days of following Geralt de Stupidtown through assfuck nowhere, having his character shat all over, and then dragging him back to the nauseating scent of his guilt and panic has not done anything for Lambert’s temper. He shuts his eyes when he hears Jaskier burst into tears, Geralt quietly trying to soothe him. He doesn’t open them when he hears Aiden approach him, cooing softly. He just moves on instinct to tuck his face into Aiden’s throat, breathing in the familiar scent of him.“That fucking sucked,” he mutters.“Mm,” Aiden agrees, stroking a hand up and down his back. “Did you break his nose?”Lambert grunts, nodding shortly, before scrubbing his face more thoroughly into Aiden’s scent gland. “Shoulda broke more than that.”Snorting, Aiden tips his head back to let Lambert happily soak up his scent. “I admire your restraint.”There probably isn’t anything more to be said. Lambert wants to go bathe and lay down where he can fully hide away in Aiden’s scent for a while, but the last time a Wolf decided he knew something he didn’t, it nearly sent the whole Keep into a frenzy. He pulls back to look Aiden in the eyes, “You know I’d never, right?”Aiden’s expression softens and he cups Lambert’s face, pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth. “I do, little wolf,” he promises quietly, tugging Lambert’s face right back down to his shoulder. “Don’t even let that thought grow.”The last of the tension sloughs off Lambert’s shoulders at that assurance and he barely manages to stay upright. “Omega Mine,” he mumbles.Aiden purrs at him. “Alpha Mine,” he replies, “Come on, puppy, I’ve got you.”One of the hardest things Lambert had worked through was letting himself be cared for when his mind wanted to check out on him. The thought of looking after Aiden while he was in the throes of his heats had given him the most intense nesting instinct he’d ever been hit with before they were even having sex. He’d nearly padding the fucking ceiling in his room only to promptly lose his mind at the first whiff of Aiden’s scent, something that had scared him more than it had Aiden.After all these decades, they have it down to a science when one of them needs to shut down and let their basest instincts take over. Sometimes that means snarling and growling that ends in wrestling that ends in sex.Today, it means every instinct in Lambert that trusts Aiden to care for him takes the reins. He just stops caring about anything but the way Aiden bathes them both, and feeds him until his stomach is full, and pulls him into bed to curl up in his arms.It means he wakes up feeling a little more whole the next day and thanks Aiden by kissing and licking him until he’s laughing sleepily and swatting at him to stop.“Someone left us breakfast,” Aiden says which clues Lambert in that the sweet honey scent isn’t just Aiden’s love.The breakfast outside the door is enough to feed about five people, or two very determined witchers.Lambert happily takes his turn hand feeding Aiden in bed before they get up for the day.They have a baby shower to help plan.