Chapter Text
Geralt and Ciri are the first vendor at the farmer’s market lot as they always are. The regular sound tech flits around the gazebo at the end of the dirt lot setting up mics and speakers, the only person to consistently beat the pair to the familiar place.
The truck grumbles as Geralt eases it into its spot, Ciri tumbling out the door before he even has it in park. She has the back open just as the truck rumbles into silence and is already hauling out the canopy out by the time Geralt is out of the vehicle. The set up is smooth from practice and Ciri is filling display buckets with water when a considerably smaller hatchback pulls into the lot and parks in the spot next to them.
“Good morning, Geralt, Ciri.” Yennefer greets them as she steps out of her car, long sundress swirling around her legs as she does. Ciri chirps a hello with a wave and Geralt nods once, barely looking up from his work arranging the stall. “Talkative as ever, I see.” She gets a grunt in reply to which she chuckles and goes about her own process of setting up. “Cirilla, did I hear that your guitar teacher was playing today?” Ciri lights up a bit and nods.
“I believe so! He mentioned it in my last lesson. I’m hoping he’ll have a chance to come meet you and Triss.” Her guitar lessons were the most recent in a string of Ciri wanting to learn as many instruments as she can. Apparently, the man who had been teaching her violin to begin with is skilled with several instruments and their lessons quickly became less specific and more varied.
“I look forward to it. Geralt, have you met this teacher yet?” Geralt nods, glancing over at where Yennefer has most of her products out, handmade soaps and various stones, semi-precious and otherwise, laid in boxes and baskets.
“Briefly when Ciri started lessons. She walks.” Yennefer hums and goes about finishing her setting up.
The farmer’s market opens at 8:30 and by 9 there’s a decent crowd. The gazebo plays stage for a man with brown hair and a wide smile. He barely needs the microphone in front of him to capture the attention of the crowd with a mix of classic songs and newer ones, ensuring the delight of adults and children alike.
An hour or so in, the man takes a quick break and Ciri goes over to talk to him, Geralt watching carefully between sales to ensure that she doesn’t leave his sight for too long. After a moment of conversation Ciri joins the man on the stage and they sing a duet, light hearted and fun, telling a somewhat nonsensical story that people seem to enjoy.
It’s not long before Ciri returns, diving straight back into helping with the stall as the crowd grows larger. Since he had taken custody of her, Ciri has learned about the flowers he sells with a voracity that surprised him. He would not have pined the girl as one for flowers. It was her idea to start drying certain flowers and selling them either in pouches for making a room smell nicer or for teas. Geralt had agreed it was a good idea and made it her task for the farmer’s market, deciding that if it was successful there that they could consider it for the store.
The crowd makes it a good day, a recent run of dark rainy days making people more inclined to want to brighten their houses with flowers and some of the candles Yennefer sells next to them. As usual, Geralt managed to predict the foot traffic near perfectly and they have little left over when the market closes. Part way through breaking down the stall, Ciri brightens and waves to someone behind Geralt.
“Jaskier!” Geralt turns and sees the man from the gazebo, Jaskier, Ciri’s music teacher. His guitar is slung over his back, a floral patterned shirt that is just this side of too much clings to him in a way that accentuates his waist. Not that Geralt is looking, Yennefer’s delicate snort as she watches notwithstanding.
“Ah! Cirilla! How was my performance? You’re the only one I trust to be honest but fair!” Jaskier’s bluster reaches them before he actually comes to a stop, gesturing in a dramatic fashion that pulls a laugh from Ciri.
“It was great, Jaskier! Seems like you finally finished the song you were working on.” She earns a laugh and a smile.
“I did! The crowd loved it!” Geralt comes out of the truck and Jaskier’s eyes meet his almost instantly. “Ah, you’re Cirilla’s godfather, yes? Julian Pankratz, a pleasure.” Geralt shakes the offered hand with a nod.
“Geralt Rivia.” His brusque answer only seems to throw the musician for a moment before he continues to talk.
“Of course, I believe we have met once before but it was a while ago. I should take this opportunity to tell you that your goddaughter is a wonderful student and incredibly talented at everything I throw at her.” The praise isn’t a surprise, Ciri is an excellent student, but Ciri straightens with pride and Geralt shoots her a small smile.
“I’m glad to hear it. She inherited her mother’s ability for single minded focus.” Ciri’s smile is wide if a bit sad and Jaskier nods sagely.
“Our dear Cirilla is quite determined when she sets her mind to things.” He eyes Geralt briefly. “Although if what she’s told me about you is true you are to credit for some of her incredible focus and drive.” Ciri’s grin has morphed once again, a grin slier than Geralt is comfortable with gracing her face.
“Hmm.” He’s saved from replying by Yennefer sweeping up to the truck.
“Geralt. I’m going to need more lavender on Wednesday, same time for pick up?” He nods, turning away from Jaskier to face Yennefer. “Excellent, my new hair treatment seems popular and I need to make more of it for next week.”
“Dried or fresh?” She fixes Geralt with a look that makes it clear that she thinks he’s an idiot before replying.
“Fresh, if you have it.” Someone clearing their throat draws both of their attention to Jaskier where he’s still standing.
“Did I hear you say lavender hair treatment? I don’t suppose you have any left that I could purchase?” Yennefer eyes him for a moment, assessing something that only she understands.
“I’m afraid I sold out of it this week. However, if you’ll be performing again next week I can keep a bottle aside for you.” Jaskier sketches the ghost of an honest to god bow, earning a bemused look from Yennefer.
“I would deeply appreciate it and I shall look forward to next week.” He glances at his watch and sighs. “And I am afraid that I must take my leave. It was a pleasure to meet you, madam, Geralt. Ciri, I shall see you on Thursday?” Ciri nods and Jaskier waves then departs toward his car.
Geralt watches him walk away, focus only broken when Yennefer delicately clears her throat. A deeply smug look has settled onto her face and Geralt frowns at her, glaring as he practically reads her mind.
“No.” She raises an eyebrow in return, smug smile still lodged in place.
“He seemed nice.” Geralt grunts and turns to Ciri, motioning her to get into the truck. “See you on Wednesday.” Yennefer calls as Geralt pulls out of the market lot.
“Did you like Jaskier’s music?” Ciri’s innocent question leaves Geralt holding in a groan before replying.
“It was fine.” Out of the corner of his eye Geralt sees Ciri watching him, eyes narrowed slightly.
“Why was Yen looking at you like the after Jaskier left?” It seems that his goddaughter isn’t going to go easy on him and not for the first time Geralt curses Ciri’s determination.
“She thinks she knows something and she’s wrong.” The answer clearly isn’t enough for Ciri but she lets it lie, settling back into her seat and humming one of the songs Jaskier had sung. Geralt grunts and and easy and familiar quiet settles over the truck.
-
Wednesday dawns and Yennefer arrives at Little Dragon and Graveyard Flowers at precisely eleven in the morning. She pushes through the door, the little bell and her presence alert Geralt to her arrival and he has her order on the counter before she even reaches him.
“I cut them ten minutes ago, they’re as fresh as they get.” He gets a smile and the requisite amount of money that she knows it costs without asking. Silence reigns as he cashes her out and as he turns to give her her change the look in her eyes makes him groan internally. “No, Yen.”
“Has he been in yet?” Geralt grunts in response and decided to feign ignorance about the whole situation. “Come on, I know you know who I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb, it isn’t a flattering color on you.” Yennefer crosses her arms, box of lavender still sitting on the counter.
“No, he hasn’t been in because there’s no reason for him to come in.” The full force of Yennefer Vengerberg’s judgemental stare is something Geralt has experience with and he stares back, arms crossed.
“Geralt, he was staring at your arms the whole time he was at your stall. He was excellent at being subtle about it, I will give him that but he definitely was.” Yennefer gets yet another grunt in reply and she sighs. Before she can launch into another facet of her unwanted opinion she’s interrupted by the bell over the door.
“Ah, I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” The smug look Yennefer shoots Geralt as she scoops up her purchase nearly kills him and she’s moving before he’s even reacted.
“Of course not. I was just leaving. I’ll see the both of you on Saturday!” And with that Yennefer is out the door and it’s just Geralt and Jaskier. Jaskier hesitates, staring somewhat blankly at where Yennefer has just swept past him before shaking himself.
“Is she always like that?” Jaskier gestures after Yennefer, an eyebrow raised.
“Unfortunately.” Geralt uncrosses his arms, watching Jaskier’s approach.
“Well, that must get exhausting. Anyway, my dear friend Triss is arranging a birthday party and has asked me to get flowers. Naturally, my first thought was to come here and very very politely request help because all I have is a color scheme and how many arrangements she needs.” Jaskier looks rather sheepish and Yennefer’s pestering floats around Geralt’s mind as he tells mental Yennefer that no, he isn’t cute.
“What’s the color scheme?” Plain relief crosses Jaskier’s face and he scrambles to pull his phone out and show Geralt a picture of pinks, yellows, and oranges. “Hmm.” Years of running the flower shop kick in and he’s already arranging in his head even as he grabs a sketchbook and does a couple of quick sketches along with a list of the flowers in each. “Price range?” Jaskier jumps a little at the question, refocusing from whatever he had been staring at.
“Triss just said that she’d pay whatever it costs.” Geralt nods and takes off around the store, grabbing individual flowers from their buckets. He returns to the counter and arranges them in the groups that he sketched out, yellow and orange ranunculus, pink roses, and baby’s breath in one, all roses in another, carnations, gerbera daisies, and more ranunculus in the last.
“Preference?” Once again Jaskier seems to need to shake himself before replying.
“The first one, I think. Feels more Triss’ style.” The arrangement’s number is circled in the sketchbook and the flowers are collected carefully to the side as Geralt writes an order form. Jaskier answers all of his questions as best he can with the information given and they determine that Triss will pay for the order at the farmer’s market on Saturday.
“Alright, here’s your copy, I’ll give Triss hers when she pays.” The order book is closed before the pink slip is even in Jaskier’s hands. He tucks it into his wallet, intent on showing it to Triss as proof of the order.
“Well, then, thank you so much for your assistance.” A small potted plant to the left of the counter catches Jaskier’s attention and he scoops it up to coo at it like one would a pet. “Aren’t you just adorable?” He pinches a wide verdant green leaf ever so gently between his fingers and pulls his fingers down the leaf, careful not to harm the plant in any way.
“It’s a peace lily.” The gruff comment brings Jaskier back to the real world and he glances over to see Geralt watching him coo over a potted plant. Jaskier feels himself flush red and drops his gaze back to the plant.
“Is it? I’ve always loved plants. Can’t have them, mind you, I’m terrible at keeping them alive.” He goes to place the pot back on its shelf but is stopped by Geralt’s next comment.
“Hard to kill a peace lily.” If he didn’t know any better Jaskier would say that the other man sounded rushed, like he didn’t want Jaskier to leave without the little plant. When he looks up again Geralt’s gaze is impassive as ever, no indication of any opinion on the matter.
“Is that so? I guess I may just have to try again.” He sets the plant on the counter with a careful reverence, almost afraid that just putting it down too hard will kill it. “Any tips on care of this lovely little thing?” At first all he thinks he’s going to get is a grunt as Geralt rustles around behind the counter for something.
“Water thoroughly once a week, bright indirect sun. Split it up if it gets too big for it’s own good.” Another piece of paper lands on the counter that reveals itself to be care instructions. “Five dollars.” Jaskier blinks at Geralt, debates arguing that that doesn’t seem like enough, then fishes a five out of his wallet.
“Well, then.” Jaskier feels a tad like a broken record. “Pleasure doing business with you. Hopefully I can maintain this sweet little thing. I guess I’ll see you on Saturday.” Geralt nods and Jaskier pushes out of the small shop with a little more gusto then is probably necessary. He takes a deep breath and looks at the little plant in his hands, Geralt had called it a lily which implies that it should flower at some point even though it was just leaves at the moment. It’ll go in the room he teaches lessons in, at the very least then Ciri might be able to keep it alive.