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The Best Part of Breaking up (Is Your Friends Getting Petty Revenge)

Summary:

Friends come together to mourn the end of a six-year relationship and Jaskier concocts a wicked plan. With the help of Essi and Priscilla, revenge, hilarity, and shenanigans ensue.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“I just don’t want to even look at his face right now,” Ellen proclaimed to her glass of wine. It was the good stuff, natch, because Jaskier insisted he bring it over as soon as he heard the news.

“But what about your things, El?” Essi asked, squeezing her free hand in hers.

Priscilla hummed in agreement. “Yeah, tell me you at least took all your belongings before you left.”

“She hasn’t,” Essi supplied with a roll of her eyes. And she would know, since her elder sister had been staying with her since the breakup. According to her, Ellen only showed up at hers with two full suitcases. Not nearly enough after a six-year relationship, four of which they spent living together.

“We could always get it for you,” Jaskier offered, swirling the final sip remaining in his own glass.

The chorus of agreement from Essi and Priscilla made him smile in triumph. He had a brilliant idea. He was about to explain when Ellen stopped him. “It’s just stuff,” she argued. “I don’t need them or the memories they’re associated with.”

“So you’re just going to let that disease-mongering consort of the denizens of Hell keep them?”

Essi snorted but Ellen shook her head. “Jask, don’t be dramatic.”

“We’re musicians, love. Being dramatic is like breathing,” he feigned offense. “Also, I dated Valdo once, I get to say whatever I want. All that aside, however, I had an incredible plan.”

“Which was?” Essi prompted.

“The three of us,” he explained, pointing to Essi, Priscilla and himself, “get everything back.”

“That's… it?”

“No, you misunderstand.” He shook his head. “When I say everything, I mean everything.”

Priscilla’s unsure nod when he began turned eager once she caught his meaning. “Yes, yes! Let’s do this.” Quickly, she whispered something in Essi’s ear and the woman's face lit up with unadulterated glee.

“I’m in!”

Jaskier waited for Ellen’s protest, but it never came. Instead, she threw up her hands in resignation and bade them all good luck. She knew she was powerless to stop them once they’d banded together. Doubly so when they’d banded together after several glasses of wine.

They arrived at Valdo’s flat bright and early the next morning with excitement and coffee overriding their hangovers. Truthfully, the lease was in both Ellen and Valdo’s names but she chose to leave it to him. Yet another reason why this mission was necessary, he thought. Aside from the entire concept being rife with comedic value.

Valdo, bleary-eyed and confused, answered the door with a questioning grunt.

“Good morning Valdo,” Jaskier greeted him with a soft voice and a sunny smile. “Apologies for calling so early but it was the only time the three of us could get together to collect the rest of Ellen’s things. So sorry to hear about the split, by the way. How are you holding up?”

They received only another grunt for their troubles as Valdo turned to go back inside, leaving the door open behind him. Taking that as the best invitation they would get, the three of them filed through the door. It took Essi a bit longer as she dragged behind her the small trolley they’d stuffed with every bag they could collectively find. Valdo only raised an eyebrow at them from where he sat on the couch nursing a cup of tea.

“I’ll take the bedroom and wardrobe,” Essi offered, pulling a handful of canvas bags from the trolley.

“Bathrooms and utility closet,” Priscilla claimed next.

“Then, I guess that leaves me with the kitchen and living room,” Jaskier conceded with a shrug.

With that, they split up to start on their designated areas. Furniture was mostly out of the question, they’d agreed on the way over. None of them had a car large enough (and Priscilla didn’t have a car at all) and this was too spontaneous for them to hire one. They’d just have to get creative.

They worked in relative quiet with only the soundtrack of the scrape of items along shelves and intermittent humming from Jaskier. Things continued in this vein for roughly an hour until Valdo got up to use the toilet. When he heard the furious roar echo down the hallway, Jaskier muffled his snickering as best he could while reaching for the screwdriver set he’d tucked into his jacket. Priscilla had drawn first blood.

“Fucking hell, Priscilla,” Valdo bellowed. “Have you removed the toilet seat?!”

“Ells spent over a month trying to find the right color to match that vintage shower curtain,” Priscilla called calmly from the hallway closet. “Which, you’ll notice, I’ve also taken.”

A string of creative swears carried through the entire flat. “I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, Pris, but it isn’t funny.”

“You’re right,” she replied, still unperturbed. “It isn’t.”

The conversation ended with a long-suffering sigh. Jaskier shook his head while smiling to himself and resumed his work. Priscilla started whistling a song he knew Valdo hated, loudly and in starts and stops without ever finishing. His smile transformed into a wide grin and he fought a losing battle against the laughter that threatened to bubble out from his lips.

Essi was the next to deal psychic damage as Jaskier heard a cry of dismay come from the bedroom. “Essi. Daven. Did you seriously take the shelves off the wall?”

“I was the one who bought them.” Jaskier could hear the nonchalant shrug in her voice. “And the harmonicas and all the other instruments that were on them are El’s anyway.”

Valdo’s scream of frustration thrilled Jaskier to no end as he continued his very important work in the kitchen. Things were going swimmingly so far and he needed to hurry up on his coup de grace . He’d just finished when he heard the shuffling of his companions as they dragged bag after bag towards the front door to load into their vehicles. Essi gave him a thumbs up as she waddled past, somehow managing to strap two guitars to her back. Perfect timing.

Et tu, Julian?” Valdo asked, his voice tight with forbearance and exhaustion, as Jaskier strolled out of the kitchen with an armful of copper cabinet handles, drawer pulls, and a self-satisfied smirk.

“What? I helped her pick these out. Besides, those horrid little plastic ones are still in the junk drawer.” Jaskier claimed innocently, dropping his haul into the bag he’d already filled with a myriad of candles and brick-a-brack. “Don’t take it so personally.”

To that, Valdo gave an acrimonious snort. “I could say the same to you.”

“Oh, darling, you and I are so very much ancient history that it is covered in dust and cobwebs and half eaten through by worms. This is not personal at all.” Jaskier averred with a winning smile as he lifted the bag and began to walk to the front door. He stopped just as his hand touched the knob and turned to regard Valdo with his best scathing glare. “Except, I suppose, it is, in a way.”

Satisfied with his parting jab, he opened the door and ignored Valdo’s spluttering retort.

“Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” he advised over his shoulder as he left.

That would, hopefully, buy them some time until Valdo realized he’d glued all the drawers shut.

Notes:

What did Valdo do to deserve such treatment? Doesn't matter. What matters is the drollery and sport!

I was informed that it is Bard Week and, after co-writing an entire multi-chapter fic with a dear friend about a group of bards that save the day (and Geralt's life), I couldn't very well not participate.

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