If life could give me one blessing...

Epilogue

It was another achingly cold morning in Kaer Morhen when Jaskier stumbled down to the hall for breakfast. The others were already there, witchers rising early as always, including Ciri who was just arguing with Lambert about the tracks they found outside yesterday when hunting. The years passed rather quickly as it seemed like yesterday when her tiny frame clung to him after nightmare. Now she was a grown up woman.

The argument soon turned into bread-rolls flying over the table, Vesemir getting up with a sigh and smashing the thick book he was currently reading over Lambert's head to the amusement of Letho who sat next to the young wolf.

Jaskier walked to the table and plopped down on the bench next to Geralt, gladly accepting a plate with all of his favorite things the witcher guarded from his brothers, happily munching on some dried fruit with his cheese. As he ate, the fur he had draped over himself when he got up fell from his shoulders, but before he could put his food down Geralt caught it, wrapping him carefully, before he put his arm around him, squeezing him into that delicious witcher warmth.

Geralt bent his head down, until his lips were behind the bard's ear and he took a deep breath of his favorite smell, making Jaskier squirm and chuckle.

"You know, if life could give me one blessing, it would be to never have to leave our bed again," he whispered into his ears, making Jaskier blush and smile into his breakfast.

"If life could give ME one blessing, it would be for you two to leave this shit somewhere my poor eyes don't have to watch it," groaned Lambert and Ciri laughed.

"Oh, stop it, Lambert. They are so sweet together. I bet you're jealous," she laughed at him but Lambert turned strangely silent as the viper next to him whispered something into his ear. From the color of he wolf's face Jaskier could be pretty sure what they were talking about.

And while the wolf and viper bickered, Vesemir sat on the bench next to Jaskier, putting down that book he used to smack Lambert before.

"Why do all of my wolves have to choose such weird partners?" asked the old master with fond exasperation and the unicorn next to him laughed.

"Why indeed... should I sing the tale about a certain young witcher and a queen of a faraway land tonight?" he asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes and Vesemir paled for a moment, before rubbing his forehead.

"I never should've told you about that you menace," he grumbled, making all of the suddenly silent witchers turn their heads at him, eyes wide with surprise. The old witcher blushed a little, getting up quickly while muttering something about a library, before all of the yellow-eyed faces turned at him, demanding answers.

The bard's ringing laugh resounded through the keep laud and clear, while he promised to tell the story later. He felt warm at heart, little pieces of himself fitting together and filling his chest with happiness. He was looking forward to living the next day and the day after that. Together with his witchers in their cold stone home or on the road, wherever the life brought them. After all, now they knew that they had each other.