Jaskier talks a lot to Geralt because no one else will let him talk. They let him sing, yes, they love his voice, but as soon as he tries to /talk/ to them they're gone. He knows how to charm his way into someone’s heart and bed, but a real, deep conversation is something else.

No one will let him talk about /Jaskier/, who he is, what drives him, his past, when he was more commonly known as Julian Alfred Pankratz Viscount de Lettenhove, what pleases him. They’ll let him talk about things that will charm /them/, not what will charm Jaskier himself.

Besides the fact that Jaskier fell in love with whoever was in front of him, this was part of the reason Jaskier would flit from person to person so quickly. Until he met Geralt, who would show outward annoyance but would still let Jaskier follow him and talk his head off.

Jaskier wasn’t entirely sure that Geralt was even listening to him, given that Geralt rarely gave more than a one word answer, but Geralt had long since stopped telling Jaskier to shut up. He let Jaskier wax lyrical about whatever interested him in the moment.

He lets Jaskier talk about and work on his songs. He lets Jaskier talk about his past, his childhood, why he became a bard. He lets Jaskier talk about Geralt himself (probably the Witcher’s least favourite topic, but he still let him talk about it).

Jaskier resolved to ask him about it.

It was several days before he got the chance. They’d set up camp for the night, Geralt methodically sharpening his silver sword. They were on their way to take out a nest of what Geralt believed to be nekkers, so he was going to need it.

Jaskier had been talking about the first time he saw Geralt fighting nekkers, before he remembered. He fell silent, studying Geralt, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject.

Luckily, Geralt did it for him. “You’ve gone quiet, Jaskier. Is something wrong?”

“You noticed?” Jaskier said, surprised.
“Of course I did,” said Geralt. “You’re always talking. When it’s silent, I notice. You were halfway through talking about the first time you saw me fight nekkers, and then… nothing.”
“Wait, you were listening to what I was talking about?”

Geralt set his sword down and crossed over to Jaskier, kneeling down in front of him. “Of course I was listening. I’m always listening. I’m just… not good with the words, as you’ve noticed. That’s why I don’t respond. But I like it when you talk all the time.”

“I’d tell you to stop if I didn’t like it, like I did when we first met.”

For once, Jaskier didn’t answer. So Geralt reached out, squeezing Jaskier’s hands in his. “Jaskier?”

“Sorry,” said Jaskier. “It’s just… most people don’t let me talk about whatever I want to talk about.”

“They let me talk about whatever they want to hear, what they want me to talk about, but as soon as I try to talk about something else…”

Geralt’s expression darkened. “I noticed. I don’t like it.” Geralt moved to sit beside Jaskier instead, and the bard leaned into his side.

Geralt put his arm around Jaskier, holding him close, keeping him warm. “Geralt? Can I ask /why/? Why do you let me talk so much? Why do you like it so much? I always assumed it was because you just don’t want to talk yourself. But it sounds like that’s not the case.”

“It’s not,” Geralt admitted. “I like the sound of your voice. It’s soft and smooth, like velvet, like sunshine, and it /relaxes/ me. It keeps me calm. Your voice is beautiful. The most glorious sound I’ve ever heard, and it deserves to be heard, and not just in song.”

“Clearly other people don’t always agree with you,” Jaskier tried to joke.

Geralt narrowed his eyes. “And that breaks my heart. If they knew what I know about you, how amazing you are, they’d never want you to stop talking either.”

Jaskier turned so he was staring at Geralt.

“What?” said Geralt, worried that he’d said the wrong thing.

“I just… I love you so much,” Jaskier said, a small yet warm smile dancing across his face.

“As I love you, Jaskier,” said Geralt, taking Jaskier’s head in his hands so he could kiss his brow.

The topic didn’t come up again, but Jaskier continued to talk as much as he wanted, knowing Geralt wouldn’t try to shut him up. Would never try to shut him up, unless Jaskier’s life was at risk of course. Like when they found the nekker nest earlier than expected.

When they returned to the town for Geralt to turn in his contract, they found themselves in the tavern afterwards, enjoying a well-deserved meal. Jaskier was talking to the room at large about Geralt’s latest exploits, and Geralt could see some of them beginning to grow restless.

The type who didn’t like Witchers, then. That was why all it took was Geralt rising slightly, looking around threateningly, and the room let Jaskier continue to talk.

Jaskier noticed.

Jaskier would be forever grateful for Geralt. For his love.

//end thread.