Fic: Life of Choices
May. 6th, 2024 07:35 pmTitel: Life of Choices
Fandom: Black Sails
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peppermintfables
Rating: G
Length: 3136 words
Characters: Jack Rackham; Anne Bonny; Charles Vane; Max
Pairings: Jack Rackham & Anne Bonny; Charles Vane/Jack Rackham; Anne Bonny/Max
Additional Tags: Witcher AU; Witcher Anne; Bard Jack; Witcher Charles; the anne/max is very minor; inaccurate witcher lore
Links:
Ao3
A/N: I’m going to start posting my old works here as well, starting with this :)
Summary:
Anne sometimes said that he had saved her from getting stoned by villagers. Jack would insist every time that he had saved the villagers from getting slit open by her. He had been young then, much younger than now at least. She had been too, just at the start of her Path, but, unlike his, her face didn’t show the years that had passed since then.
He had just come across the village, surrounded only by forest and fields, when the noise alerted him to the tumult happening in front of the house of the alderman. Over the years he had often been accused of a tendency to stick his nose where it didn’t belong and while that may be true, he’d argue that in this particular case it worked out for him. In the long run at least.
Because there she stood, two swords clenched in her hands, blood-red hair and a grimace on her face clearly saying that she wouldn’t hold back much longer. Around her villagers were throwing insults and stones. He still didn’t know what exactly had moved him to stand between them and her but it was a position that he would find himself in so often in the following years that by now it was familiar.
So there he had been and he had talked as fast as he could, trying to calm the masses and apparently they were a lot more hesitant to throw stones at a puny looking bard than a terrifying lady with cat eyes and knives but still not willing to tolerate them any longer near there homes and they found themselves on a path near the forest.
“You didn’t need to do that.”
“No.”, he grinned. “I didn't.”
Somehow he just never stopped following Anne. Or maybe she was following him. He could never quite tell. They traveled from town to town, Anne looking for coin, Jack looking for glory. She would take whatever contracts they came across, fighting Drowners and Griffins, Kikimore and curses and he would compose songs about her deeds, singing in taverns in the evenings and patching Anne up to the best of his abilities.
“Why do you keep doing this”; she asked him one evening, while he was rooting through her bag of potions, trying to find the right one. “People like your songs. Why not just write some love songs or whatever the fuck other bards do? Enjoy the comforts of a city instead of ruining your fancy clothes trying not to get killed out here.”
“What’s the point?”, answered Jack, without hesitating. “Writing stories without ever being part of one yourself. Rotting behind walls, writing songs that will be forgotten. That's not what destiny is made of.”
Anne hummed in that way that clearly meant that she did not understand but was willing to accept it as one of his weird hangups. Maybe witchers didn’t care about legacy, if they didn’t have to living so much longer than regular humans. Maybe it was just Anne’s general disregard for sentimentality. But she had asked. She cared enough to ask and for them that was enough.
Max was terrifying and powerful in a very different way than Anne and Jack had not yet decided if he liked it. Right now the signs pointed to no.
“Can’t you just… magic it?”
The look Max shot him could have come from a basilisk. “ I could but if you had actually listened you’d remember that the beast has some way of sensing the use of magic and I’d rather avoid alerting it and getting eaten as soon as we get through the door.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it also has a way of sensing sound, like, just throwing this out there, hearing it, so all this banging might not be helping. And why do we even have a sorceress with us if your magic is useless.”
“First of all I’m here to verify that it’s actually dead when your done with it, not do your job for you and secon-”
“Could the two of you-” Anne interrupted them, glaring from where she was trying to pry open the huge iron door on her own. “shut up and actually help me.”
The beast did in fact attack them as soon as they where through the door.
Back at the estate, where Max had promised them food and a bed, Anne excused herself to sleep of the lingering effects of her potions, leaving Jack and Max alone, both trying valiantly to ignore the other while eating their meal.
“You know, it took great sacrifice for me to be here. To get to be here.”, Max broke the silence without looking at him. “I used to think there would be no chance for me to get a life like this, to live in a place like this, for my opinion to be as respected as it is now. And when I entered the academy...I often asked myself whether it be worth it. There’s no easy way to become a sorceress. You could have had this easily as bard. Why choose to give something up that others have to fight so hard for?”
“And what an opportunity it is. I'm sure you're not yet tired of patronizing nobles, but as much as I love a good intrigue I'm not sure Id fight to get to deal with court bullshit. My chances are not in here. My chances are out there. And I fought to get to be there just as you fought to get to be in here.”
It was a relatively normal evening for them both when Jack first met Charles Vane. Anne was curled up at a table in a corner of the inn they were in, sipping her ale and seemingly trying to blend out the people around her.
Jack was on an improvised stage that was really just a freed space where the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side, singing a song about Anne’s battle with a Bruxa. In front of him some people were nodding along but most of them where either too drunk or had no regard for art when it was played right in front of them and were just ignoring him, which is why he noticed when the door opened and an armored man stepped in.
The armor alone would have been enough to make him stand out in a poor town like this one but he had the same cat eyes as Anne, the same predatory grace and the same silver medallion swinging around his neck.
Jack looked to Anne’s corner, saw her uncurl and shoot a wary look at the other witcher, before slightly turning to him and signaling him to keep playing. So Jack threw himself into the performance to distract the audience from the two witchers in their midst, a circumstance most wouldn't be happy with, and when he was finished Anne was alone in her corner again, like nothing had happened. When he later asks her, she only says that he had a job for them and they'd leave in the morning but the sight smile on her lips speaks of trust.
Apparently people have been going missing in broad daylight on an important trait route and someone, Alanus Sten or something similar, was both rich and invested enough to hire not one but two witchers… and Jack by association. So here they were, the three of them, walking along idyllic looking fields on their way to kill something. It didn't look like a place that could kill you. Jack could respect that. Looking dangerous was a way to avoid conflict, looking trustworthy was the way to lure people in.
Case in point the other witcher, Vane, was definitely the dangerous looking sort but despite Jacks constant chattering he yet had to do anything worse than shoot him a look that was a mix of annoyed and amused every now and then. For Jack, used to similar treatment from Anne, this was all the encouragement he needed.
“So how many of you guys are there actually? We’ve never actually run into another witcher before but maybe you’re just very good at avoiding each other.”
“Don't you ever shut up?”
“Any idea what we’re dealing with here? Usually the monsters Anne fights are more the hide-in-the-night type. What kind of monster kills in broad daylight?”
“One that’s either very desperate or very good. Nothing two witchers couldn't deal with.”
“So did you train with Anne? The medallion means you’re from the same school, right?”
That one got him a smirk.
Jack was in the middle of being absolutely delighted by Vane recounting a tale from Anne’s training days while Anne was shooting him annoyed looks, when they saw the girl, dancing in a swaying dress in the middle of the fields.
“Noonwraith”, Vane growled, looking at Anne. And then, turning to Jack: “Stay here.”
Jack was used to this. Anne was good at her job, fearsome and capable. He had little problem leaving this in her hands, he himself having more a gift for eloquent cruelty than Anne’s down-to-earth brutality. So Jack stayed were he was supposed to, hoping that this might be a fight actually worth singing about. But suddenly he heard a song coming from behind him and when he turned there was the girl again. Her clothes were tattered and she seemed...somehow hollow but she danced like it didn't matter and she was calling to him. Not with sound but he knew, felt himself moving towards her. Maybe she needed help. He should be there. He should dance with her. He was close, so close, when he felt a rough hand close around his wrist and yank him back. He landed against a hard chest while Anne ran past him, her silver sword in her hand.
Only now, from up close and with a clear head, Jack could see the rotten flesh if the girl, empty eye sockets and a long tongue hanging out of her mouth. She let out a screech as Anne traced a symbol in the air and then took the final steps towards her, slashing the ghost girl with her blade across the chest. There was no blood when the girl… the monster stumbled back, trying to get some distance between itself and Anne. And vanished into a cloud of smoke only to reappear behind her. But Anne was faster, turned around in one fluid motion and kept going at it with her sword, the silver shining blindingly in the midday sun. The monster tried to get in one last scratch before it was to much and it dissipated into smoke, this time not turning up again.
“Is it… gone for good?” Jack asked, unsure and shaking off the hand Vane still had around his wrist.
“Not until we found her body”, Anne grunted, giving him a once over and evidently coming to the conclusion that he was unharmed before turning around and starting to walk to do just that. “Next time do what your told and stay.”
“Hey now! I really was trying this time, you know how much I tr-”
“Save your breath.”, Vane interrupted him. “She really can’t give you shit for this. No reason for you to be resistant to what killed all the missing people. Noonwraiths lure people in, its just how they work.” And then to Anne: “ If you don't want your human to get damaged, take better care of him.” Anne started walking twice as fast, nearly leaving them behind, an impressive feat considering she was significantly shorter then the two of them. Honestly, saving his life was well and good but making Anne mad? That would not do at all.
They found the body eventually, just a skeleton and some clothes left. Vane kneed next to her, searching through the fabric and eventually pulled out a letter in surprisingly good condition. Jack snatches it out oh his hand before he can think better of it. It’s a love letter, full of compliments and promises and tenderness, signed A. Sten. They burnt it with the rest of the body.
When they met again Max was still as powerful and elegant as ever and it’s easy to see how taken Anne is with her, if you know Anne. Jack knows Anne.
He had heard that witchers and sorcerers don’t tend to get along, maybe because of fundamentally different world views or maybe just because there are risks when you can get that old and constantly have to deal with each other.
But whatever it was it didn’t seem to apply to Max and Anne, who looked at each other with an understanding and tenderness that made Jack simultaneously unbearably happy for Anne and send a wave of longing and confusion through him. And for the first time since that tiny village at the beginning of their journey he and Anne went separate ways. It didn’t know what that means for them and quite honestly he didn't want to think about it either.
He...well he didn’t actually know what Anne and Max get up to while he’s gone. Something about networks and curses and Kaer Morhen. He, on the other hand, made his way to Oxenfurt, city of stories and their tellers, bright and loud, the embodiment of everything Anne tries to avoid. He stood in front of the biggest crowds he ever performed for and sang his heart out and when the applause washed over him his eyes automatically started searching for Anne before he remembered. It’s a new kind of feeling, to stand before people adoring him and still feel so alone. But he’s one step closer to legend and for that had to be enough. It had to be worth it.
The road he was walking on was improvised and uncomfortable, already having left Oxenfurt far behind, when he saw two glints in he distance, so similar to the way Anne’s swords would reflect the sun that he immediately started going faster and faster until he was running. But while it was two swords and the person carrying them was familiar, they were a bit to tall to be Anne, their hair a bit to dark. Jack hadn’t seen Vane since the noonwraith incident but here he was. Still, Jack was rarely one to say no to company and once he caught up to him Vane still seemed to tolerate him so they made their way to their next stop together.
One stop turned into two turned into three and at some point traveling together went from novelty to comfortable habit. Jack found out that Vane, no – Charles, had about as much idea where Anne was by now as Jack had (“How the fuck would that be my business”) but knew Max for some reason (“Smart, that one. Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing but credit where credit’s due”). When Jack started needling for more he just got a grunt and a fond look and the conversation ended. And so they continued traveling and while Vane was, naturally, different from Anne, most of the problems they encountered were ones Jack was already used to. People refusing to pay, inaccurate monster descriptions leading to injuries, that Jack did his best to help patch up and the general animosity towards witchers driving them quickly from town to town.
“Why choose a life like this? You should know by now that it’s not easy.”, Charles asked him once, while Jack was tending to his own scrapes he had gotten from tripping over a root trying to avoid a giant claw.
“Everything that matters is part of this life. Everyone that matters at least.”
“Fair enough.”
The progression of their relationship felt natural in the end and they didn’t really talk about it. Jack sometimes feelt like he should try, somehow find the right words and make sense of it, but maybe he was scared to or maybe it just didn’t matter because he never brings it up. It was what it was. It was waking up together in the morning, tangled up in each other and unwilling to face the morning cold and the open road so soon, it was lingering hugs and eyes on him while he performed and casual kisses, it was patching each other up and punching assholes in the face for each other. That’s all it needed to be.
But the world was shifting constantly, even if the nearly immortal beings around him liked to forget, and, while it didn't end, this too shifts. Because Jack had gotten his priorities in order a long time ago.
They met Max again and for a moment Jack wondered whether they were supposed to hide this thing between them but Charles only cared about appearances when not doing so could actively endanger him and that didn’t seem to be the case here. So all of them gathered around the campfire, Jack’s hand on Charles’ thigh for no other reason than that he wanted to, while Max and Charles eyed each other with poorly concealed apprehension.
“Anne is up north, making her way to Kaer Morhen. If you’re fast you might still catch her.”, Max said before Jack can even ask. “We split up a while back, there’s tumult going on in Temeria and I need to get it under control and she…well she needed to go somewhere were she could be helpful. Where she could be herself. Vizima is not that place.”
Jack stared into the fire before meeting her eyes. “Should I even go after her? She doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Don’t be stupid”, she scoffed. “You have always encouraged her to be herself at all cost. She misses you and you don't need me or her to tell you that.”
The next morning the three of them took of in different directions. Max continued her way to Vizima, saying goodbye with a short hug for Jack and some whispered advice to Charles. Charles pulled Jack into a hug as well, though this one lasts longer.
“How long till we meet again?”, Jack asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice and not quite managing.
Charles smiled fondly: “ Knowing you, I’ll hear about whatever trouble you’ll get yourself into soon enough. Shouldn’t make it hard to find you.”
He gave a quiet laugh at the insulted face Jack made and a last pat on Jack’s shoulder and started making his way towards a city where rumors spoke about a contract regarding a chimera.
When he was out of sight Jack started walking in the direction of Kaer Morhen, alone again. But at the end there were stories waiting for him and chances and Anne. So it was worth it.
Fandom: Black Sails
Author:
peppermintfablesRating: G
Length: 3136 words
Characters: Jack Rackham; Anne Bonny; Charles Vane; Max
Pairings: Jack Rackham & Anne Bonny; Charles Vane/Jack Rackham; Anne Bonny/Max
Additional Tags: Witcher AU; Witcher Anne; Bard Jack; Witcher Charles; the anne/max is very minor; inaccurate witcher lore
Links:
Ao3
A/N: I’m going to start posting my old works here as well, starting with this :)
Summary:
Life on the road with a witcher isn't easy
or
Jack tries not to be in the way and continuously fails, Anne and Max are competent as usual and Vane just... kind of appears sometimes?
Anne sometimes said that he had saved her from getting stoned by villagers. Jack would insist every time that he had saved the villagers from getting slit open by her. He had been young then, much younger than now at least. She had been too, just at the start of her Path, but, unlike his, her face didn’t show the years that had passed since then.
He had just come across the village, surrounded only by forest and fields, when the noise alerted him to the tumult happening in front of the house of the alderman. Over the years he had often been accused of a tendency to stick his nose where it didn’t belong and while that may be true, he’d argue that in this particular case it worked out for him. In the long run at least.
Because there she stood, two swords clenched in her hands, blood-red hair and a grimace on her face clearly saying that she wouldn’t hold back much longer. Around her villagers were throwing insults and stones. He still didn’t know what exactly had moved him to stand between them and her but it was a position that he would find himself in so often in the following years that by now it was familiar.
So there he had been and he had talked as fast as he could, trying to calm the masses and apparently they were a lot more hesitant to throw stones at a puny looking bard than a terrifying lady with cat eyes and knives but still not willing to tolerate them any longer near there homes and they found themselves on a path near the forest.
“You didn’t need to do that.”
“No.”, he grinned. “I didn't.”
Somehow he just never stopped following Anne. Or maybe she was following him. He could never quite tell. They traveled from town to town, Anne looking for coin, Jack looking for glory. She would take whatever contracts they came across, fighting Drowners and Griffins, Kikimore and curses and he would compose songs about her deeds, singing in taverns in the evenings and patching Anne up to the best of his abilities.
“Why do you keep doing this”; she asked him one evening, while he was rooting through her bag of potions, trying to find the right one. “People like your songs. Why not just write some love songs or whatever the fuck other bards do? Enjoy the comforts of a city instead of ruining your fancy clothes trying not to get killed out here.”
“What’s the point?”, answered Jack, without hesitating. “Writing stories without ever being part of one yourself. Rotting behind walls, writing songs that will be forgotten. That's not what destiny is made of.”
Anne hummed in that way that clearly meant that she did not understand but was willing to accept it as one of his weird hangups. Maybe witchers didn’t care about legacy, if they didn’t have to living so much longer than regular humans. Maybe it was just Anne’s general disregard for sentimentality. But she had asked. She cared enough to ask and for them that was enough.
Max was terrifying and powerful in a very different way than Anne and Jack had not yet decided if he liked it. Right now the signs pointed to no.
“Can’t you just… magic it?”
The look Max shot him could have come from a basilisk. “ I could but if you had actually listened you’d remember that the beast has some way of sensing the use of magic and I’d rather avoid alerting it and getting eaten as soon as we get through the door.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it also has a way of sensing sound, like, just throwing this out there, hearing it, so all this banging might not be helping. And why do we even have a sorceress with us if your magic is useless.”
“First of all I’m here to verify that it’s actually dead when your done with it, not do your job for you and secon-”
“Could the two of you-” Anne interrupted them, glaring from where she was trying to pry open the huge iron door on her own. “shut up and actually help me.”
The beast did in fact attack them as soon as they where through the door.
Back at the estate, where Max had promised them food and a bed, Anne excused herself to sleep of the lingering effects of her potions, leaving Jack and Max alone, both trying valiantly to ignore the other while eating their meal.
“You know, it took great sacrifice for me to be here. To get to be here.”, Max broke the silence without looking at him. “I used to think there would be no chance for me to get a life like this, to live in a place like this, for my opinion to be as respected as it is now. And when I entered the academy...I often asked myself whether it be worth it. There’s no easy way to become a sorceress. You could have had this easily as bard. Why choose to give something up that others have to fight so hard for?”
“And what an opportunity it is. I'm sure you're not yet tired of patronizing nobles, but as much as I love a good intrigue I'm not sure Id fight to get to deal with court bullshit. My chances are not in here. My chances are out there. And I fought to get to be there just as you fought to get to be in here.”
It was a relatively normal evening for them both when Jack first met Charles Vane. Anne was curled up at a table in a corner of the inn they were in, sipping her ale and seemingly trying to blend out the people around her.
Jack was on an improvised stage that was really just a freed space where the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side, singing a song about Anne’s battle with a Bruxa. In front of him some people were nodding along but most of them where either too drunk or had no regard for art when it was played right in front of them and were just ignoring him, which is why he noticed when the door opened and an armored man stepped in.
The armor alone would have been enough to make him stand out in a poor town like this one but he had the same cat eyes as Anne, the same predatory grace and the same silver medallion swinging around his neck.
Jack looked to Anne’s corner, saw her uncurl and shoot a wary look at the other witcher, before slightly turning to him and signaling him to keep playing. So Jack threw himself into the performance to distract the audience from the two witchers in their midst, a circumstance most wouldn't be happy with, and when he was finished Anne was alone in her corner again, like nothing had happened. When he later asks her, she only says that he had a job for them and they'd leave in the morning but the sight smile on her lips speaks of trust.
Apparently people have been going missing in broad daylight on an important trait route and someone, Alanus Sten or something similar, was both rich and invested enough to hire not one but two witchers… and Jack by association. So here they were, the three of them, walking along idyllic looking fields on their way to kill something. It didn't look like a place that could kill you. Jack could respect that. Looking dangerous was a way to avoid conflict, looking trustworthy was the way to lure people in.
Case in point the other witcher, Vane, was definitely the dangerous looking sort but despite Jacks constant chattering he yet had to do anything worse than shoot him a look that was a mix of annoyed and amused every now and then. For Jack, used to similar treatment from Anne, this was all the encouragement he needed.
“So how many of you guys are there actually? We’ve never actually run into another witcher before but maybe you’re just very good at avoiding each other.”
“Don't you ever shut up?”
“Any idea what we’re dealing with here? Usually the monsters Anne fights are more the hide-in-the-night type. What kind of monster kills in broad daylight?”
“One that’s either very desperate or very good. Nothing two witchers couldn't deal with.”
“So did you train with Anne? The medallion means you’re from the same school, right?”
That one got him a smirk.
Jack was in the middle of being absolutely delighted by Vane recounting a tale from Anne’s training days while Anne was shooting him annoyed looks, when they saw the girl, dancing in a swaying dress in the middle of the fields.
“Noonwraith”, Vane growled, looking at Anne. And then, turning to Jack: “Stay here.”
Jack was used to this. Anne was good at her job, fearsome and capable. He had little problem leaving this in her hands, he himself having more a gift for eloquent cruelty than Anne’s down-to-earth brutality. So Jack stayed were he was supposed to, hoping that this might be a fight actually worth singing about. But suddenly he heard a song coming from behind him and when he turned there was the girl again. Her clothes were tattered and she seemed...somehow hollow but she danced like it didn't matter and she was calling to him. Not with sound but he knew, felt himself moving towards her. Maybe she needed help. He should be there. He should dance with her. He was close, so close, when he felt a rough hand close around his wrist and yank him back. He landed against a hard chest while Anne ran past him, her silver sword in her hand.
Only now, from up close and with a clear head, Jack could see the rotten flesh if the girl, empty eye sockets and a long tongue hanging out of her mouth. She let out a screech as Anne traced a symbol in the air and then took the final steps towards her, slashing the ghost girl with her blade across the chest. There was no blood when the girl… the monster stumbled back, trying to get some distance between itself and Anne. And vanished into a cloud of smoke only to reappear behind her. But Anne was faster, turned around in one fluid motion and kept going at it with her sword, the silver shining blindingly in the midday sun. The monster tried to get in one last scratch before it was to much and it dissipated into smoke, this time not turning up again.
“Is it… gone for good?” Jack asked, unsure and shaking off the hand Vane still had around his wrist.
“Not until we found her body”, Anne grunted, giving him a once over and evidently coming to the conclusion that he was unharmed before turning around and starting to walk to do just that. “Next time do what your told and stay.”
“Hey now! I really was trying this time, you know how much I tr-”
“Save your breath.”, Vane interrupted him. “She really can’t give you shit for this. No reason for you to be resistant to what killed all the missing people. Noonwraiths lure people in, its just how they work.” And then to Anne: “ If you don't want your human to get damaged, take better care of him.” Anne started walking twice as fast, nearly leaving them behind, an impressive feat considering she was significantly shorter then the two of them. Honestly, saving his life was well and good but making Anne mad? That would not do at all.
They found the body eventually, just a skeleton and some clothes left. Vane kneed next to her, searching through the fabric and eventually pulled out a letter in surprisingly good condition. Jack snatches it out oh his hand before he can think better of it. It’s a love letter, full of compliments and promises and tenderness, signed A. Sten. They burnt it with the rest of the body.
When they met again Max was still as powerful and elegant as ever and it’s easy to see how taken Anne is with her, if you know Anne. Jack knows Anne.
He had heard that witchers and sorcerers don’t tend to get along, maybe because of fundamentally different world views or maybe just because there are risks when you can get that old and constantly have to deal with each other.
But whatever it was it didn’t seem to apply to Max and Anne, who looked at each other with an understanding and tenderness that made Jack simultaneously unbearably happy for Anne and send a wave of longing and confusion through him. And for the first time since that tiny village at the beginning of their journey he and Anne went separate ways. It didn’t know what that means for them and quite honestly he didn't want to think about it either.
He...well he didn’t actually know what Anne and Max get up to while he’s gone. Something about networks and curses and Kaer Morhen. He, on the other hand, made his way to Oxenfurt, city of stories and their tellers, bright and loud, the embodiment of everything Anne tries to avoid. He stood in front of the biggest crowds he ever performed for and sang his heart out and when the applause washed over him his eyes automatically started searching for Anne before he remembered. It’s a new kind of feeling, to stand before people adoring him and still feel so alone. But he’s one step closer to legend and for that had to be enough. It had to be worth it.
The road he was walking on was improvised and uncomfortable, already having left Oxenfurt far behind, when he saw two glints in he distance, so similar to the way Anne’s swords would reflect the sun that he immediately started going faster and faster until he was running. But while it was two swords and the person carrying them was familiar, they were a bit to tall to be Anne, their hair a bit to dark. Jack hadn’t seen Vane since the noonwraith incident but here he was. Still, Jack was rarely one to say no to company and once he caught up to him Vane still seemed to tolerate him so they made their way to their next stop together.
One stop turned into two turned into three and at some point traveling together went from novelty to comfortable habit. Jack found out that Vane, no – Charles, had about as much idea where Anne was by now as Jack had (“How the fuck would that be my business”) but knew Max for some reason (“Smart, that one. Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing but credit where credit’s due”). When Jack started needling for more he just got a grunt and a fond look and the conversation ended. And so they continued traveling and while Vane was, naturally, different from Anne, most of the problems they encountered were ones Jack was already used to. People refusing to pay, inaccurate monster descriptions leading to injuries, that Jack did his best to help patch up and the general animosity towards witchers driving them quickly from town to town.
“Why choose a life like this? You should know by now that it’s not easy.”, Charles asked him once, while Jack was tending to his own scrapes he had gotten from tripping over a root trying to avoid a giant claw.
“Everything that matters is part of this life. Everyone that matters at least.”
“Fair enough.”
The progression of their relationship felt natural in the end and they didn’t really talk about it. Jack sometimes feelt like he should try, somehow find the right words and make sense of it, but maybe he was scared to or maybe it just didn’t matter because he never brings it up. It was what it was. It was waking up together in the morning, tangled up in each other and unwilling to face the morning cold and the open road so soon, it was lingering hugs and eyes on him while he performed and casual kisses, it was patching each other up and punching assholes in the face for each other. That’s all it needed to be.
But the world was shifting constantly, even if the nearly immortal beings around him liked to forget, and, while it didn't end, this too shifts. Because Jack had gotten his priorities in order a long time ago.
They met Max again and for a moment Jack wondered whether they were supposed to hide this thing between them but Charles only cared about appearances when not doing so could actively endanger him and that didn’t seem to be the case here. So all of them gathered around the campfire, Jack’s hand on Charles’ thigh for no other reason than that he wanted to, while Max and Charles eyed each other with poorly concealed apprehension.
“Anne is up north, making her way to Kaer Morhen. If you’re fast you might still catch her.”, Max said before Jack can even ask. “We split up a while back, there’s tumult going on in Temeria and I need to get it under control and she…well she needed to go somewhere were she could be helpful. Where she could be herself. Vizima is not that place.”
Jack stared into the fire before meeting her eyes. “Should I even go after her? She doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Don’t be stupid”, she scoffed. “You have always encouraged her to be herself at all cost. She misses you and you don't need me or her to tell you that.”
The next morning the three of them took of in different directions. Max continued her way to Vizima, saying goodbye with a short hug for Jack and some whispered advice to Charles. Charles pulled Jack into a hug as well, though this one lasts longer.
“How long till we meet again?”, Jack asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice and not quite managing.
Charles smiled fondly: “ Knowing you, I’ll hear about whatever trouble you’ll get yourself into soon enough. Shouldn’t make it hard to find you.”
He gave a quiet laugh at the insulted face Jack made and a last pat on Jack’s shoulder and started making his way towards a city where rumors spoke about a contract regarding a chimera.
When he was out of sight Jack started walking in the direction of Kaer Morhen, alone again. But at the end there were stories waiting for him and chances and Anne. So it was worth it.
