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Born to Make History

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Jaskier cursed as he felt the edge of his skate catch the ice. He landed ceremoniously on his arse. The take off into the quad salchow had been perfect. He’d gotten enough speed and height as he hugged his arms to his chest as he span in the air. He’d spread his arms wide for the landing but his fucking skate had hit the ice wrong. 

“Shit!” He groaned as he went flying across the ice on his butt. “Fucking, cock, balls!”

The grand prix final was flying towards them at breakneck speed and he was beginning to flail. No one had expected him to qualify this year. It was his fifth year in the senior division and whilst he’d done well in regionals and nationals, he was still trying to break into the international league, and this was apparently his year. 

“Julian!” Yennefer snapped as she skated over to him. “What the fuck was that? You can land a Salchow in your sleep!”

Yennefer Vengerberg. The bane of his life, otherwise known as his coach and choreographer. She’d also hooked him up with a ballet teacher, Triss Merigold, and he had never been so elegant on the ice. She was still the bane of his life. She was an incredible teacher and was in her prime the best female skater in the world. She’d retired from competing three years ago following an accident on the ice that had injured her spine. She was no longer allowed to make the jumps but her skating and step sequences were still to die for. 

She was also insanely strict and honestly scared the shit out of him. 

“I fucked up the landing.” He moaned. 

“Yes.” She said with a quirk of her eyebrow. “I can see that. Do it again.”

Jaskier scrambled to his feet and skated a loop around the rink to find his feet again.  He would have some lovely bruises but everything seemed to be in order. His ankles weren’t damaged which was the main thing. He sighed as he closed his eyes, picturing the music in his mind as he ran through the routine just before the quad salchow. He licked his lips as he took a deep breath before pushing up off the ice. 

He soared through the air as the music sang in his head and then landed perfectly. He grinned and moved through onto the next part of the routine. 

“Not terrible!” Yennefer called which was Yennefer speak for actually pretty damned good. 

By the time he’d finished the routine he was panting slightly and there was a dull burning in his thighs. His butt was sore but that was probably more to do with his crash than the routine. He skated over to the edge of the rink and rest his arms on the side. “Better?” He asked Yennefer with a wink. 

“Your triple axel combination needs work. Your arms were all over the place and would you please stop sticking your tongue out during the step sequences? You look like Roach.” Yennefer rattled off, counting each mistake on her perfectly manicured fingers. 

Roach. That was her ex’s cat. He’d seen photographs whenever Ciri, her daughter, joined them at the rink. Ciri was an adorable young girl who was eager to join in once they’d finished up their practice. Jaskier would always guide Ciri around the rink by her tiny gloved hands and help lift her as she jumped from one foot to another. She had ice-skating in her blood. Her father, Geralt Rivia, was a professional hockey player and owner of Jaskier’s heart. Every time Geralt came by to pick up or drop off Ciri, Jaskier stumbled on the ice. He was just so gorgeous that Jaskier apparently lost control of his limbs and turned into a puddle of Jaskier goo on the ice. 

He sighed wistfully as he pictured Geralt’s lovely amber eyes and shining silver hair. Of course he was an ice-skater. He even looked like he’d been blessed by some ice spirit or something. Jaskier had had many a dream about pair skating with Geralt, the feel of his strong arms lifting Jaskier high up into the air. 

“Jaskier! Are you even listening to me?” Yennefer prodded him in the arm. She sounded completely exasperated, which Jaskier supposed wasn’t entirely uncalled for. He hadn’t been listening and he had no idea how long he’d been daydreaming for. 


“Give me strength.” She groaned and skated away from him with a roll of her eyes. “Can we go through it again with music? Lower the jump difficulty if you’re tired but I want to see your performance.” 

He sighed and pushed off from the barrier, tossing his fringe from his eyes. “I. You… My, My performance is excellent!” He muttered. 

“Your performance is shit.” Yennefer countered. “Remember your tongue is supposed to stay inside your mouth. Otherwise you’ll bite through it and I’m not taking you to hospital.”

“Urgh.” Jaskier groaned but moved into his starting position. “Just press play already.”

“Oh and Jaskier?”


“Geralt is coming in with Ciri. Please do try and stay on your feet.” She smirked and clicked play. The strumming of a guitar filled the room as On Love: Eros began to play. 

Jaskier stumbled over his first few moves. Stupid Yennefer and Geralt. He yelled with frustration as he settled into the routine. He knew this. He was good at this. The costume always helped his performance but he was Eros. He was great at seduction. He could charm just about anyone… who wasn’t Geralt. He moved with grace and elegance as he glided around the ice like the seductress that he was. In his mind Geralt was the playboy lover that had come to town and Jaskier was Yennefer. He would seduce the man who had stolen his heart. He had been doing it all season, not that Geralt had ever seen any of his performances but that didn’t matter. 

He lowered all his quads to triples. They’d been training for hours and doing quads at this point was too dangerous. His muscles were tired and this run through was about the performance. 




The music stopped and the only noise that was left in the rink was the sound of his panting. 

He’d done it. 

“Yay! Jaskier!” Ciri yelled and clapped. He spun round to see her and Geralt watching from the edge of the rink. 

“Oh fudge!” He muttered as he caught Geralt’s eyes. Oh good lord he was so handsome. At least Jaskier was already red in the face from his performance. He could pretend the way his heart was racing was solely to do with exertion. 

“Jaskier that was amazing!” She shrieked and grabbed at the rails. 

“Ciri, your skates aren’t tied up.” Geralt reminded her as he scooped her up into one arm.

Jaskier laughed and skated over to them. “Thank you, Ciri.” He smiled at the young girl. “Umm. Hi.” He muttered at Geralt a little awkwardly. 

“Heard you got to the finals. Congratulations.” Geralt nodded. 

“Ah yeah.” Jaskier ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Thanks. What did you think?” He asked. “Three words or less?”

“Not bad.” 

Jaskier pouted. Great. His first review from the unrequited love of his life and it was ‘not bad.’

“Right. Well.” He muttered. “Thanks for that.” He went to pushed off from the barrier but Geralt grabbed his arm. Jaskier’s eyes snapped up to meet Geralt’s. The blush on his cheeks only intensifying at the contact. 

“It was good.” Geralt said in his gravelly voice that made Jaskier’s heart go wild. 

God he should have chosen Agape to skate to. Never mind trying to seduce Geralt, he was completely gone on the man. “Oh.”

“I like the music.” Geralt continued with a slight frown.

Jaskier chuckled. “Three words or less, that’s four.”

“You skate beautifully.” Geralt smirked and Jaskier’s skate slipped underneath him. 

“Oh sugar!” He groaned as he fell back but Geralt was still gripping onto his arm and he managed not to fall on his arse. “Shhh… Sherbet. Thank you, thanks.” He muttered. “I’m just… gonna.” He pointed to the other side of the rink where there was a gap in the barriers. “I think I’ve skated enough today.”

“But Jaskier!” Ciri whined. “You were going to help me with my toe jump.” She pouted at him with wide emerald eyes. 

“Oh alright then. Get your skates on.” Jaskier bopped her on the nose. 

“You don’t have to.” Geralt growled. “You must be tired.”

Jaskier waved his hands and scoffed. “Nonsense. I made a promise, Geralt.” 

“Hmm. Can I join you?” 

Jaskier’s heart stopped in his chest. He resisted the urge to pinch himself. Did he hit his head when he fell earlier? Was this all some dream? Oh god, he was definitely dreaming. “Oh, umm yeah. Yeah. Sure.” 

“Might need someone to catch you again.” Geralt chuckled and Jaskier gaped at him. 

“Geralt!” He whined. “I am a top figure skater!”

Geralt shrugged. 

“Take that back!” Jaskier pointed at him. “Take that back or I’m not letting you on the ice.”

“Hmm.” Geralt shrugged again. 

Jaskier huffed and finally skated away from him. His heart still pounding in his chest. When he turned around he saw Yennefer watching them with a smirk from the other end of the rink. 

“Are you done? I have notes.” She asked, her arms crossed in front of her chest. 

He groaned but reluctantly skated over to his coach. Ciri still needed to finish tying up her skates and Geralt could keep her entertained whilst he finished up with training. He tried not to zone out whilst she pointed out all his mistakes but it was hard with Geralt being so close, and now they were going to skate together. It was a dream come true. It was only Yennefer’s piercing violet gaze that kept him from drifting off into a daydream. Honestly he was thankful that she was so terrifying. He wasn’t sure any other coach would be able to keep him in line. His first coach, when he was still in Oxenfurt, had been too relaxed and Jaskier had often just fucked about. 

It wasn’t his fault he was so easily distracted. 

The scraping of blades on the ice pulled his attention away. Yennefer sighed and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Jaskier grinned and spun round to skate towards Ciri and Geralt. Ciri tried to skate away from Geralt towards him but stumbled as she reached him. Jaskier reached out to catch her with a laugh. 

“There we go!” He said as he steadied her. “You’ll be a top skater in no time.”


“I’m going to play hockey!” Ciri grinned. 

Jaskier pouted dramatically. “You won’t need me to teach you the toe loop then.” Ciri’s eyes went wide and she looked like she was about to cry. “But, seeing as you’re wearing figure skates instead of hockey ones.” He winked at Geralt. “I guess I will.”

Ciri grinned. “Thank you, Jaskier!”

They weren’t on the ice long. Jaskier was exhausted from training and Ciri was only young so she got bored quickly. Geralt mostly stayed out of their way, running laps around the rink whilst Jaskier and Ciri practiced her jump in the middle. After about twenty minutes Geralt joined them in the middle and caught Ciri in his arms. 

“Enough now, cub.” He murmured. “Jaskier has a big competition coming up. Let him rest now.”

Ciri pouted. “Can we go and see him again?” 

Jaskier froze. 


What the fuck did that mean?

He stared at Geralt with wide eyes. Geralt was… blushing? Nah. It was probably just the cold air from the rink. 

“Ciri likes to watch you skate.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier smirked. “Ciri didn’t call my skating beautiful.” He glided forward slightly putting himself Geralt’s space. 

God if Ciri wasn’t here right now….

He bit his lip as he tried to push those thoughts out of his head. Geralt wasn’t interested in him that way. He’d thought that Geralt barely knew he existed before today, but apparently that wasn’t entirely true. Geralt had sneakily been watching his performances. 

“That was a joke.” 

Jaskier laughed and skated a circle around Geralt. “I don’t think so!” He sang and then before his confidence could leave him. “It’s getting pretty cold in here. Did you wanna grab a hot drink or something?” 

“Hot chocolate!” Ciri squealed and wiggled in Geralt’s arms. 

“Or coffee?” Jaskier suggested with a tilt of his head. “I was up before the sun today. Yennefer doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of beauty sleep, or course looking like she does, I don’t blame her!”

“Coffee sounds good.” Geralt nodded and skated over to the exit with an excitable five year old in his arms. 

Jaskier watched the pair of them, his gaze dropping down to Geralt’s sinfully round arse before grinning to himself and following them out of the rink.