Falls

A beat of silence, filled only by the sounds of three mingled heartbeats and the gentle pinch of Enya’s teeth. And then the confession that he’d offered was echoed in the golden mare’s speech. It was a significant moment, and one that should have brought joy— but instead only gave rise to further doubt. Particularly when the slender woman shifted away only seconds later, bringing his attention back to the child. And Jaskier… Jaskier felt the beat of his heart quicken when his companion called the colt their son, felt the air turn cold and heavy in his lungs. Because he couldn’t do this; he didn’t know how to do this. He’d never known his own sire, beyond the reflection of him he was said to possess in the deep gold of his own coat.

And without an example to follow, how could he hope to be what they both needed? What they both deserved?

What do you wish to call him? Only one voice could hold the darkness of his thoughts at bay, and the golden brindle clung to the sound of it as desperately as any drowning creature. Unfortunately, he had no answer to the question Enya posed— how did one give name to another being? He knew that members of his own intimate little family had been named for flowers, but couldn’t seem to think of a single one beyond those already engraved in his heart. Hyacinth. Larkspur. And his own namesake of course, Jaskier— a tiny flower whose bright yellow petals seemed to reflect the glow of the sun. Enya had become his sun, and he’d never been brighter and more alive than he was in her presence. But this radiance was not without cost. The closer he came to her, the more the striped buckskin found that he relied upon her light. She was everything, now; the only thing in his world.

Adrianus seems like a strong name, do you like it? Or at least, she had been. Now there was the boy, too. Amber eyes flitting over the small and fragile creature, Jaskier cannot envision what he will one day grow into. But somehow, the name that the golden mare suggested still suits him. “Adrianus,” he murmured, tasting the name even as he watched the boy stumble reluctantly closer. “It’ll do. I might have suggested naming him for me, but it’d be a lot for him to live up to, I suppose.” He quipped— veiling his doubts in humor, as was his tendency. “Still, it could’ve simplified things for you... to have only one name to shout when we raise your ire.”

Chuckling in a warm and honeyed tone, he dances to one side to avoid the anticipated rebuke of Enya’s teeth. But when her words summon him forward, he falls in obediently at her heels. Leaving it to her to decide what their path will be from here— and knowing that he will follow her regardless of where it leads.