Of Trade Winds and The End of Our Peaceful Days
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Jaskier looked down on the ten day old dragon fondly and brushed Loptr's cheek gently with the back of his hand. He couldn't get over how soft the dragon scales could be. Scaly meant bony and hard, flaky, even, in his experience, but this was more like soft leather.
An eye cracked open and looked at Jaskier. He smiled reassuringly and began humming a lullaby that he had composed shortly after the hatching. It worked its magic like always: Loptr sighed and shut his eye again, snuggling into Jaskier's hand.
Jaskier slowly stood, a tad more tired than he had been before he checked in on the babe. His heart was full and he made his way over to his bedroll to slip into a deep sleep.
—
A week or so later--while Jaskier was transitioning between Stork Flies at Dawn and Water Over the Mountain Fall--a young child toddled over and grasped his tunic. The child was much thinner than one would expect at his apparent age with a shock of dark black hair over his forehead.
"Up, Yass," the child insisted, pouting when Jaskier froze.
Jaskier looked at Vea, eyes wide. "You hold him all the time, Bard. Pick him up!" she ordered, shaking her head.
"I do?" Jaskier sputtered.
"Obviously, you put him to sleep most nights," Vea observed idly. "Pick him up before he starts crying."
Jaskier's eyes bulged. "But Loptr is only a few weeks old!" He said, defending himself.
The child's lower lip pushed out and began to quiver dangerously.
Vea sighed. "He's a DRAGON. He can shapeshift! He's probably trying to have an older human form so we can converse and spend time together." Shaking her head, she stalked over to Loptr and scooped him up, then dumped him in Jaskier's arms before the dragon hatchling had a chance to fuss.
"Now, time to work on the Holding the Baby pose," Vea instructed brusquely, demonstrating it and waving Jaskier on.
Loptr had settled his head on Jaskier's shoulder, one slimy fist in his mouth, the other bunched up in Jaskier's shirt.
Jaskier reluctantly slid into position. "I think I need some more instruction on how dragons age," he muttered under his breath.
—
After shifting to toddler size, Loptr slept for almost 24 hours. To Borch's delight, the baby dragon refused to relinquish his hold on Jaskier, whining and wiggling in his sleep whenever he was put down on his own pallet.
They all sat around their fire that night. Jaskier was slumped against a rock and gently cradling the toddler's head with one hand, struggling to eat dinner with the other.
Borch smiled without malice. "It's wonderful to see you taking so well to being an uncle, Jaskier. At some point we will take him to meet the other dragons on the Continent, but the more family and love he can get at this age, the better for his development." Borch met Jaskier's eyes, flickering in the firelight.
"You've asked about dragon lore, and I'm very stingy with sharing it – it's need-to-know, you see, and most people really don't need. But as you are raising one with us, I want to explain why a loving family unit is important for the dragon's development – apart," he said, holding a hand up to Jaskier's indrawn breath, "from the standard, every child deserves to know they are loved."
Borch stood and began pacing with his arms behind his back. "You see, there is a circular rhythm to life," he began, voice tight, "and every death leads to a birth. Some deaths, preceded by lives that the Goddess deems both - hard, and heroic," his voice broke and he stopped, breathing rapidly.
Tea moved to Borch's side in a moment, rubbing his arm. "Some children are not loved. And they grow up and love everyone in the world so much in spite of that lack of love. Maybe to SPITE that lack of love. And when their lives end, in a stupidly tragic way, the Goddess sends them to us. So that they can experience love and life and protection."
Jaskier's eyes drop to the small child in his lap. "I will care for him. I do care for him," Jaskier said. "I care for you too, Borch, not to mention the warrior princesses at your side." He took a deep breath. "But I need to know if I should be expecting any other out of the ordinary developments for Loptr!"
Borch nodded, face a little softer. "He may push himself to age a little more. He likely remembers his past and will need to process it. Hard to speak as a baby."
Jaskier smiled briefly. He finished his tea before absently swirling it three times and inverting it on his saucer then placing it on the ground in front of himself. "My parents always said I started talking at a year old and never shut up, so I guess turnabout is fair play." He ran his fingers through Loptr's wild hair, marveling at the baby softness of the strands.
They stayed around the fire in silence for a while longer until Borch broke the silence with a clap of his hands. "Well, tomorrow afternoon. He'll be back to raising hell, you know. You should try to get some sleep before that."
Jaskier's eyes snapped open – he hadn't realized they had closed! – and he looked at the sleeping child that was crowding all other thoughts out of his brain, and had to lean over to kiss him on the forehead before moving to stand. "All right, Loptr. Let's go to the bedrolls," he said, moving to do just that, leaving behind his cup. He didn't hear Vea gasp as she picked it up and looked at his leaves, continuing his quiet conversation with Loptr.
"Sounds like a long day ahead of us tomorrow, full of fun and excitement. Maybe you'll be able to understand playing pirates, and you'll be the captain, and I'll be the yellow-bellied scum you come across to rob, and Tea can be an amazing mermaid, and Vea can be your first mate. Oh! And Borch can be the storm that comes upon us suddenly when you're boarding my ship, that will be fun." Jaskier kept the story up until he was mumbling in his sleep.
—
More days passed. Some of them, Loptr spent as a dragon. Some of them, he spent asleep. But over the next two or so weeks, he became the perfect age to play pirates with Jaskier. Instead of Jaskier being yellow-bellied scum, though, he preferred to rescue Jaskier from other pirates and make him the first mate of his ship.
Once, Loptr growled at Borch (the enemy pirate) and claimed Jaskier to be his treasure. Then he looked confused and angry.
Borch grinned at him. "What's wrong, Captain Loptr?"
"Why does he feel like he's still YOUR treasure?" Loptr demanded.
"Oh, young one," Borch said. "He's part of my Hoard. He wears my scale."
"In fact, I wear three scales," Jaskier corrected, a little proud now of his adornments.
Loptr's face screwed up. "Well. I want him to wear MY scale!"
Borch laughed a little. "Save a scale next time you shed, and ask politely." He patted Loptr on the head. "But it's not as simple as ownership. It's an agreement of mutual respect and care." Borch walked by Jaskier and in a low voice said, "I'm going to take him for a walk and kind of give him an info dump like you got."
Jaskier blinked. "An info dump. All right." He looked around. "I'll go help with dinner, I suppose," he said, and he walked over to Tea and Vea, waving farewell to the watching dragons.
Vea handed him a tea cup, pressed it into his hands impatiently, as he walked over. "I need you to read your leaves."
Jaskier raised a brow. "Can I enjoy drinking it first?"
Vea growled at him. "Quickly enjoy your tea."
Jaskier's eyes danced with amusement. "But you've been teaching me how to move slowly this whole time! How can I -"
Tea grabbed his wrist. "Just. Drink it."
Bemused, Jaskier complied, downing his tea as quickly as he could while it was still hot. Then he prepared his cup and set it on the saucer.
"Is there something I need to think of this time?" he asked quietly, looking at the women in front of him.
Vea sucked her teeth, a little aggravated. "Whatever you've been thinking of late at night since the hatching."
"All right." Jaskier closed his eyes and concentrated on what has been occupying his thoughts.
He opened his eyes after a bit and flipped the cup upright, gazing into it. Then his face fell. "Well, bugger."
He looked up at the warriors. "This doesn't mean what I think it does, does it?"
Vea's hand circled his shaking wrist, settling the cup back down in the saucer. "If it looks to you like you see doom and disaster, the end of things, then yes, it does. I normally wouldn't pry, but – what are you thinking about?" She met his eyes. "Is it the Witcher?"
He looked away. "Yes," he muttered, and Vea relaxed for a moment until he continued. "But not just. I've mainly thought about Loptr, our future, our life as a family, and - yes, a little - I thought of Geralt, wondering if he found happiness, or family, or his Surprise."
"That's not great," Borch said, walking up behind them.
Jaskier looked at him in confusion.
"We've all looked into your leaves when you've left them behind," Borch admitted easily. "You've got a Touch of Sight and it's simple to read them. We've all seen it, though it looks differently to all of us." Borch reached out and took the tea cup from Jaskier, handing it to Loptr, now a small but sturdy six year old boy. "What do you see?"
Loptr sighed. "Divination is hogwash," he muttered, then reluctantly looked in the cup. He dropped it and screamed. "A grim!" He ran to Jaskier and wrapped his arms around him tightly.
"I'll keep you safe," Loptr promised fiercely. Jaskier soothed him with a hand through his hair.
"And I you, my Captain."
Borch sighed and put his hands on his hips. "I was hoping we could give him more calm and safety here, but I think it's time we go meet some other dragons." He turned to Jaskier. "Will you be ready to leave in two days' time?"
"Yes, we will," Loptr replied, face still buried in Jaskier's side, and Jaskier nodded.