Inspired by the following picture by the incredible @marietta-kerdzevadze (see her Instagram >here< for more of her amazing work!). Thank you so much for giving me permission to write a piece based on your stunning art!
Warnings: Witcher 3 spoilers! Mentions of violence, PTSD, depression, angst. But don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of fluff too!
Tiny patters on the window panes, and glimmers of sunshine just barely peeking through the clouds. It was those days that Priscilla dreaded most. Once upon a time she could have stared out the glass, hearing the thrum of the cabaret below, and compose some heart-wrenching rendition to woo the crowds in a few nights time. But ever since..
Ever since..
Sigh.
Ever since that night, the rain on the windows sounded like claws. The sun felt taunting, a glaring reminder of the bright eyes that watched her squeal and cry. The beats and cheers from below felt like her screams that could never quite leave her throat during that ordeal.. Nor would again, not in the same way.
Even her beloved, who patiently sat with her day after day, never pushing, always kind and smiling, or offering up take after tale of his adventures with Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri, or even Regis and Annarietta (though the latter remained somewhat a sore subject), could not seem to break her from her state of ever gazing. The fear crinkling up in the corner of her eyes with every sleepless night and restless nightmares.
In the end, of all people, it was Zoltan who offered Jaskier the icebreaker.
“The lass needs to feel whole again, dun’nae take it personal. She misses her music.”
It was like a jolt of lightning coursed through him then. Of course! His darling Priscilla, prized for her voice of wonder and alluring tales, the great Calonetta.. Her voice dry, cracked and stolen.. She needed to find her muse again!
Not the lute, no, that was personal to she and he, the strums of chords mixed with notes of lyrics, it would remind her too much of what she was still seeking to recover. No, something new, to her and not to him.
Two nights later, and after a series of frustrated groans, huffs, and enough curses in Elder to make an elf blush, Jaskier’s triumph was echoed with a definitive: “Aha!”
Not ten minutes later did Priscilla wander in, her once bouncy and well styled locks hanging limply around her head, like sodden straw. Timid, dark circles eyes widening with curiousity, a light not seen since that night..
The piano, his victory, Jaskier sat at the overly large stool, and a second cushion beside him, just for her. It took a moment, that felt like a lifetime, before he felt the bench shift and the heat of her body reach out from beside him, tickling his bare forearms like a warm breeze. He took two, three deep breaths, barely daring to look at her, else he might tempt fate. But she didn’t move. Not a muscle.
Gently smiling, he rolled down his sleeves and pressed his fingertips on the ivory keys, playing a simple but cheerful tune, one note at a time. Over and over he played, tap tap tap.. Pling pling pling. They sat there for almost an hour, her azure eyes patiently watching the pattern, her muttered breaths just about reaching his ears as she counted the rhythm out. For the first time in weeks, he began to see that shine come back to her, ever so slightly.
Just as he thought to call it enough for the night, he rose up, and as he turned to the door, he heard it.
Pling. Pling. Pling.
Spinning on his heels, midnight gaze wide with wonder, he saw his Cilla. Not the shadow of herself as she had been, but the woman he fell in love with oh so long ago. Gently padding towards her, as she bit at her lower lip and tried to recall the notes in the correct order, he gently placed his hands over hers, guiding her ever so lightly to the right keys. Soft pressure atop her fingers with his own, his breath in her ear as he hummed the tune out as they played.
Even as she began to grasp the tune, he kept his hands atop hers, fighting the urge to intertwine their fingers. And with her mind fixed on her craft, as it would be on those usual rainy days, once upon a time, she felt the brush of a chaste kiss on the crown of her head, causing to her to release a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.
She couldn’t bring herself to smile, not just yet.. But the unspoken love was there, in that moment, they knew.
And, for the first time in weeks, Priscilla slept soundly that night, tightly wrapped in Jaskier’s embrace.
