A Late Lark Twitters From the Quiet Skies

Image from PsychVamp who is just the sweetest person in the world.

Jaskier worriedly chewed on the tip of his finger as he paced around one of the darkened hallways of Kaer Morhen. The winter was coming to an end, the pass was going to be open soon, and that meant he needed to have two difficult conversations that he really didn't want to have. Neither of them was going to go over well, and one of the things he needed to do before he had one of them was probably going to get his ass kicked. The people involved had the right to kick his ass, but that didn't mean Jaskier was looking forward to it. It just meant that it had to happen, and he had accepted it.

The latter half of the winter was like something out of a dream. When Geralt looked him in the eye on that fucking mountain and blamed Jaskier for all of his life problems, he thought this was about as bad it could get. Then Nilfgaard picked him up, pulled off all of his fingernails, and was very obviously planning on killing him as they tried to pry information from him. When Yennefer stumbled into that clearing, Jaskier was sure he was hallucinating, but then she freed him, and they saved each other's lives. He wasn't expecting Yennefer's affections in the cottage as they recovered. Jaskier knew that she could kill him with a thought, and he knew better than to test that. Yet when she leaned forward to kiss him on those pillows, something shifted. He felt wanted for the first time in a long time.

Jaskier remembered that mage pulling all of his thoughts out of his head when he refused to give them any information and the way Yennefer looked like some sort of goddess of rage when she declared that he was hers. He didn't know what it meant, but she healed his voice and kept claiming him as her own like it wasn't a big deal. Then Kaer Morhen happened and their mutual dance with Geralt. Now he had both of them, and Jaskier thought this had to be some sort of fever dream brought on by Nilfgaardian torture. There was no way he was getting everything he had wanted for such a long time.

He wasn't really paying attention, so when someone took him by the wrist and pulled Jaskier into a hallway, he would deny that he let out a very unmanly yelp. He blinked, and he realized that Geralt was smirking at him like scaring the shit out of him was funny. Ciri and Yennefer were outside having a lesson about magic while Eskel and Lambert were out hunting. Jaskier thought Geralt was with his brothers and said so.

"I wanted to stay behind," Geralt said as he moved closer. Jaskier felt a bit like prey as he backed up against the hard stone wall and let Geralt trap him. Jaskier was not nearly as weak as those around him thought he was, this winter had proven that, and he wasn't going to roll over for Yennefer or Geralt. That didn't mean Jaskier didn't accept the power dynamics between the three of them for what they were. "I wanted to see you."

"You see me all the time," Jaskier said softly. Even though the three of them had been sleeping together for several weeks now, it was usually either the three of them or Jaskier would stay with Yennefer. He knew that Yennefer and Geralt would sometimes spend time together, but Jaskier hadn't really spent any time with Geralt. He wasn't sure it was something that Geralt even wanted despite their little almost moment in the training yard. Geralt's eyes burned like fire, and there was no denying the intent behind them. Jaskier yanked Geralt forward and kissed him.

It was different from the times they had kissed each other in bed. That was a clear lead up to sex, while right now, they were in a hallway. This was softer and more passionate that Jaskier was expecting. He thought Geralt would push him against the wall, yank his hair, bite his lip hard enough to bleed, but Geralt seemed keen to slowly explore Jaskier's mouth with his tongue like they had all the time in the world. There wasn't any space between their bodies, and Jaskier just wanted him closer. He wound his fingers through Geralt's frankly maddening hair and held on for dear life.

They had to stop to breathe, but Geralt pressed soft kisses along Jaskier's jaw and gently took his earlobe between his teeth. Jaskier tried not to moan, considering that Vesemir was in the keep somewhere and had already threatened to throw Jaskier off of the mountain if he caught him and Yennefer kissing again. He would probably do something worse for Jaskier, kissing the man who was essentially one of his sons. Then Geralt began to pay attention to the fading bruise that Yennefer had left on Jaskier's neck the day before, and all thoughts about modesty left his mind.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed there, wrapped around each other in that hallway, but Geralt eventually pulled away and pressed his forehead to Jaskier's. They stayed close, breathing the same air, and just being with each other. It was something he didn't think he'd ever get to have with Geralt, and yet here they were.

"Come with me," Geralt said as he took Jaskier's hand into his own. All Jaskier could do was nod stupidly and let Geralt guide him through the keep to a tower that he didn't recognize. He was about to ask where they were going when Geralt opened a door and led him into a room. There was a small fire dying in a hearth and a warm looking bed in the corner. It was a room that looked lived in, and Jaskier could see Geralt's things spread out, including his weapons and his armor. This was Geralt's room, and somewhere he hadn't ever seen before. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to this, but Geralt didn't give him a chance. They were kissing again, and this time Geralt was not being sweet.

These were the types of kisses that Jaskier always thought that Geralt would give him. It was hard enough to bruise, and he pulled on Geralt's clothing hard enough that he heard threads snapping. Neither of them seemed to care, though, as Geralt easily lifted Jaskier off of his feet. He hadn't ever had a lover carry him to bed like this before, Jaskier had done this to plenty of women over the years, but now Geralt was the one laying him down on the bed. He was already breathless and half-hard, and all they had done was kiss. Geralt stood over him and grinned, and Jaskier felt like he was about to be devoured.

"Do you know how long I've wanted this?" Geralt asked as he climbed on the bed, straddling Jaskier's hips and leaning down, so they were close. "Do you know how long I've imagined pinning you down in this bed, in my home, and having you all to myself?"

"Gods, Geralt, I didn't know that coming home turned you into such a poet," Jaskier said because he didn't quite know how to react to this Geralt that was sharing his feelings. Yennefer and Jaskier had to threaten to leave to get Geralt to talk about how he felt about them, and now he was just confessing things like it wasn't a big deal. Like he wasn't changing Jaskier's entire worldview with every word.

"Years," Geralt said, ignoring the snarky comment and running his hands over Jaskier's clothed body. "I wanted you for years, and I did nothing about it. Now you're here, and you're mine, and I don't have to wait anymore." Jaskier felt his breath hitch at the idea of Geralt claiming him as much as Yennefer did. That was already almost too intense for him to handle, and the idea of having two of them was enough to make him panic. So he slid back into a role he knew all too well; the seductive bard. He smirked and wrapped his arms around Geralt.

"So show me," Jaskier said, and they were kissing again. It was late in the afternoon, and the truth was they didn't have the time to do this properly. Jaskier knew what he could handle, but if it hurt even a little, he was reasonably sure that Geralt wouldn't ever touch him again. So they were going to have to make do with hands for today. Jaskier tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking as he pulled off his shirt, and his mouth went a little dry when Geralt tossed his shirt off to the side. They traveled together for twenty years; he had bathed this man, so he had no excuse for why he was struck dumb at the sight of Geralt shirtless yet here was.

Geralt kissed him as they both tried to untie each other's pants as fast as possible. Geralt was clearly the one with his head in the game as he got Jaskier's trousers open and slid a hand inside. It was too dry, and it still felt amazing. Jaskier finally managed to get Geralt's pants open as well, and he wasn't sure who was more distracted.

"I want this to be good for you," Geralt said, and Jaskier was about to argue that it was good, anything with Geralt was already good, but Geralt was moving to reach into a bag and pull out a small container of oil. They both moved, so they were on their sides, facing each other, as Geralt put a little oil on his fingers and took them both into his large hand. Jaskier moaned and wanted to close his eyes but also didn't want to look away from Geralt. They were close, and Jaskier had to kiss him again; even when they broke away from each other, Jaskier didn't move away. He stayed close enough that their lips were always brushing as Geralt touched them both. This was the kind of sex he was having as a teenager, and yet here he was about five seconds from losing his mind as a grown-ass man. It was unfair how easily Geralt could make his entire body sing.

His orgasm came on gradually and felt like a tidal wave pulling him under. Jaskier thought he might have blacked out for a moment, and by the time he was aware of what was happening, he got to watch Geralt use his spend to get himself off, and that was one of the more erotic things he had ever seen in his life. Geralt came, and his face was so beautiful that Jaskier just had to kiss it. They stayed close, exchanging soft kisses and covered in bodily fluids, and Jaskier didn't care.

"I'm so glad I finally got to have you all to myself," Geralt whispered.

"Just don't make Yennefer jealous by going around saying that I'm yours. You know how she gets," Jaskier said with a smirk. Geralt opened his mouth like he was going to say something, maybe he was going to say that Jaskier was his long before he was Yennefer's, but decided against that line of thought. The wound from the Dragon Hunt was still a little too raw and Jaskier didn't feel like making it bleed again.

Geralt eventually got up and wiped them both down with a wet cloth from a bucket near the door, and Jaskier still felt gross but not nearly as bad as before. He didn't want to move, and Geralt wasn't asking him to leave, so he stayed. Geralt climbed back into the bed and laid back down so they were on their sides, still facing each other. Geralt reached out and brushed some of the hair out of Jaskier's eyes; it was a move he saw Geralt do to Yennefer, but this was the first time he was on the receiving end.

He really didn't want to have these conversations, but lying here, it was only becoming more and more apparent that they needed to happen, and they needed to happen soon. Jaskier closed his eyes and let Geralt gently pet him as he tried not to think about all of the things he was going to have to say soon.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much time," Geralt whispered, and Jaskier opened his eyes. "I wasted time with you, and I regret that." It was like getting stabbed in the gut to hear those words.

"Regret isn't going to change anything, Geralt, not for any of us," he replied.

+++

Two days later, Yennefer and Geralt were off with Ciri, and Jaskier knew it was time to do something he didn't want to do. Eskel and Lambert were outside running the walls after training, but Vesemir had gone inside. It was only Jaskier and Vesemir in the keep. Jaskier purposely waited until the old Witcher was somewhere hidden and far away. Vesemir raised an eyebrow when Jaskier walked into the room.

"Is there a reason you've been following me around the keep, bardling?" Vesemir asked.

"There is," Jaskier said carefully. "I have to ask you something."

"And you needed to wait for me to be alone and away from everyone to ask it? What could you possibly have to ask me that you couldn't ask around the others?" Vesemir asked. Jaskier swallowed, stood a little taller, and took a deep breath.

"I need a Witcher medallion," he said. Vesemir moved so fast that one moment Jaskier was standing in the middle of the room, and the next Vesemir had slammed him against the wall and was holding him there by his neck. Jaskier wasn't afraid of Witcher's, and he didn't think that Vesemir was going to kill him right now, but if he had any survival instinct that look Vesemir was giving him would have triggered it.

"You have no idea what you ask of me, boy," Vesemir hissed.

"I know," Jaskier managed to croak out. "But, I still need one." The hand around his throat tightened, and Jaskier was reasonably sure that this bruise was going to be hard for any of them to explain, but he wasn't going to back down. "Please, let me explain why, and then if you still want to throw me off of the mountain for even asking you can." Vesemir narrowed his eyes and was probably searching for the lie in his words, but Jaskier meant every single one of them. This was the only idea he had and one of the only options he saw. Vesemir released his throat and Jaskier dropped to the ground.

"Explain yourself," Vesemir said, and Jaskier did.

+++

Jaskier could feel the bruise around his neck already forming, but by the time he was done explaining what he wanted to do, Vesemir looked like he wanted to kill Jaskier a little less. He waited to see what the old Witcher would do if he was about to get thrown through a wall or off of the mountain and if he was even going to survive such a thing.

"You are convinced this is the only way," Vesemir said.

"It's the best idea I have so far," Jaskier replied. "And if nothing else, it's going to buy us some time, and maybe that will be enough." Vesemir stared at him for a long time, and Jaskier waited for whatever punishment was coming his way.

"You swear to me, boy, on your life that you will return it. You will not let life leave your body until you return it to me, do you understand?" Vesemir asked.

"Yes sir," Jaskier replied without hesitating.

"I will find you what you need," Vesemir said. "You can come up with your own explanation for those bruises." Vesemir turned and walked out of the room without looking back at Jaskier. He wondered if he was ever going to welcome in this keep again after he returned the medallion. There was a chance that Vesemir would deny him, and he wasn't sure how to explain to everyone why he wasn't allowed through the door. Jaskier rubbed his neck and went to find Yennefer. She knew about this particular plan, so maybe she could deal with the bruises before anyone saw them.

+++

Jaskier faked a headache and waited in the room he shared with Yennefer for her to come upstairs. She knew that he didn't get headaches and that if he was saying he was in bed with a headache, it meant he needed to talk to her alone. Yennefer walked into the room, locked the door, and immediately cast a spell that sealed the entire room from prying ears of Witchers. Jaskier was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and she narrowed her eyes when she saw the bruises on his neck.

"You look like someone tried to kill you," she said.

"I'm fairly sure if I said the wrong thing he might have," Jaskier said as she touched the bruises. Jaskier winced and let her prod at his sensitive skin. "He agreed with my plan, though, so there's that at least. Can you do anything about these, so I don't have to try and explain to Geralt, Lambert, Eskel, and Ciri why Vesemir tried to strangle me?"

"I can," Yennefer said, and she placed her warm hand on his skin. Jaskier closed her eyes and let the feeling of her healing wash over him. It was warm, safe, and unlike anything, he had ever felt before. Anytime Yennefer did it, Jaskier felt like she was claiming him for herself all over again. All he could hear was her declaring to Nilfgaard that "he is mine." The pain in his neck faded, and Jaskier opened his eyes to look at Yennefer. Her purple eyes looked like they were glowing in the afternoon sunlight, and he wanted to touch her. "Geralt asked if he could come and stay with us tonight."

"We need to have that conversation," Jaskier said. "The pass is going to be clear in a matter of days, and things are going to get complicated very quickly."

"One more night," Yennefer whispered as she leaned into Jaskier's space to kiss his cheek. "Let's have one more night before we have to talk to them about this." He couldn't turn her down if he wanted to, and having Geralt in their bed was not exactly a hardship. However, when Geralt came to their door after dinner, Jaskier wasn't really in the mood to do much. He couldn't get his mind off of the conversation they needed to have, and it ruined his mood.

"I want to watch," Jaskier said as he moved away from the two of them. Yennefer looked a little concerned, but whatever Geralt was doing against her neck must have been distracting. Jaskier settled into one of the large and comfortable chairs in the room and watched. Geralt and Yennefer spent a considerable amount of time wrapped up in each other, just kissing. It was quite a sight to watch, and the way they fit together was hard to deny. It was like there wasn't any space between them, all of their sharp edges fit together perfectly, it was like they were made for each other in a way that had nothing to do with djinn magic. These were core components of who they both were that fit like a puzzle that Jaskier considered himself fortunate to watch.

Or he would consider himself fortunate to watch if he could focus. It said a lot about how distracted he was that his two obscenely hot lovers were getting ready to have sex right in front of him, and he didn't really care. It wasn't that he wasn't interested but more that his mind kept wandering. He knew that Yennefer wanted another night with Geralt before they had their difficult conversation that could potentially put a damper on their little three-way relationship. Jaskier didn't blame her, but he couldn't make himself forget. The room was warm but not because of magic or a massive fire but because it was getting warmer. Eskel and Lambert were going to leave soon, and the reality of the situation the four of them were in was coming to ahead.

Jaskier blinked and realized he hadn't been paying attention at all. While he was thinking Yennefer and Geralt managed to get themselves undressed and Yennefer was watching him carefully like she knew he wasn't really into this. If he got up and left, she would figure out something to say to Geralt to convince him that it was the right decision, but Jaskier didn't want that. He didn't want to ruin this night for the two of them with his issues. So he smirked and settled into his persona as he watched the two of them. Yennefer looked like she didn't quite believe it, but Geralt's mouth on her was all the distraction she needed.

Yennefer came against Geralt's mouth twice before he pushed into her, and Jaskier felt something inside of him shift but not what he was expecting. This was art, beauty, something that he didn't deserve to be watching, and this was something that he shouldn't be witnessing. This was precious, something to be protected, and for the first time, Jaskier felt like an outsider. He remembered what the mage said when Nilfgaard had them prisoner. Geralt loves Yennefer, they are bound by destiny, Jaskier had no place here, and no one will miss him. He knew that Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri would miss him if he were gone, but did he have a place here?

This was a bad idea; this was such a bad idea; he should never have offered to watch them. Jaskier had spent all of this time convincing himself that because Yennefer claimed him and because Geralt wanted him that he had a place here, but he didn't. This was bigger than him, and he had no place here, and the fact that he ever got in between these two was almost insulting to the concept of love, soulmates, and destiny itself. If he were reading this in a story or a poem or hearing it a ballad, he would be the bad guy, and he would hate himself for what he did.

Yennefer and Geralt both looked over at him, and he could tell they were both close to coming. He knew what they looked like when they were close, and that isn't something someone like him should know. That isn't information he should be privy yet here he was. Jaskier felt like he was collapsing in on himself as his entire world was coming undone, but he was a master of performance. Yennefer and Geralt could do a lot of things, but Jaskier knew how to make sure they knew when he was and wasn't lying. Yennefer also promised not to invade his mind unless she had to, and there wasn't any reason for her to be here. So he smirked and spread his legs a little as he watched them even if Jaskier felt like he should look away.

Yennefer nearly screamed when she came a second time, and Geralt growled and followed behind mere seconds later. They held each other for a long time, kissing, touching, being together in a way that Jaskier knew he wasn't meant to be part of. Now was not the time to have that conversation, and he added it to a long list of difficult conversations he didn't want to have. Now he walked over when Geralt beckoned him over. He let the two of them push him into the middle as Yennefer sucked a fresh bruise into the tender Jaskier's throat and got him out of his trousers. Jaskier loved how he felt between them and hated that despite how good it felt, it wasn't right, and long after the sweat cooled on all of their bodies, he couldn't sleep.

+++

Jaskier woke up the next morning, wrapped in the arms of Yennefer and Geralt, and immediately did not want to be there. It took a little work to get out from them, but he managed to do so without waking either of them up somehow. He changed and made his way downstairs to the kitchen where Vesemir was and no one else. Jaskier froze; this was the first time they had been in a room alone since he had asked for a medallion, and he didn't know how this conversation was about to go. Vesemir looked up at him, and they stared at each other. Vesemir eventually got up, put some food on a plate, and set it across from him. Jaskier sat down, and the two of them began to eat in silence.

"I need to hear the words from you again, boy," Vesemir said in that deadly voice again.

"I will not die until I return the medallion to your hands," Jaskier said. "I swear on my life that I won't let you down." Vesemir stared at him, as if reading Jaskier for a lie, and eventually reached into his pocket and pulled out a medallion. He set it on the table and pushed it toward Jaskier without breaking eye contact.

"The Witcher who wore this medallion was a good man, and he deserves to come home," Vesemir said. "So, make sure he comes home."

"I will," Jaskier whispered as he touched the medallion with the tips of his fingers. Now that he had this, there wasn't any avoiding the conversation with Ciri and Geralt. It needed to happen, and it needed to happen today. Jaskier didn't feel like eating anymore, but he forced himself to finish his breakfast as he slipped the medallion into his pocket. He clutched it tight enough that he could feel the edges cutting into his skin, and Jaskier tried to breathe through this. He could do this, they could both do this, and even though this conversation was going to hurt, they could make this work. They had to.

Geralt and Yennefer came down not long after, followed by a sleepy Ciri. Jaskier nodded slightly to Yennefer, and she frowned a little as she ate. It was time.

"Geralt, Ciri, can we talk to you?" Jaskier asked. "Maybe in the library?"

"I suppose," Geralt said as they finished their breakfast. Ciri yawned and followed Geralt up to the library as he led the way. Jaskier lingered, and he felt Yennefer brush up against him. She knew the plan, and she was with him, but this was his plan. That meant he had to be the one to explain this, and that wasn't going to be easy. The door closed, and they were finally alone as Ciri settled in front of the fire, and Geralt looked far too calm. "Lambert and Eskel will be leaving in a few days, and then we'll have to keep to ourselves with Vesemir. It will be different, but we can alter how we train and teach Ciri."

"Yeah, I can't wait to try something new," Ciri said with a smile, and by the gods, Jaskier hated this moment so much that he had to sit down. Yennefer sat down close enough that they were touching, and Geralt seemed to realize for the first time that something wasn't right.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Geralt, you and Ciri are staying here in the keep for the year, but Yennefer and I aren't," Jaskier said. He wanted to look away, so he didn't have to see how sad Ciri looked at the idea of them leaving, but the thing that made Jaskier's heart seize in his chest was the way Geralt seemed to shut down in front of him entirely. It was like all of the emotion they had worked so hard to force Geralt to confront was gone in the span of a moment.

"We are needed out there," Yennefer explained. "I need to find my sisters, I need to find out who survived and who didn't, and I need to know how I can help."

"I can understand that," Geralt said, and his voice was so devoid of emotion that it hurt to hear. "What does Jaskier plan on doing, exactly? Unless you're suddenly a mage?"

"I'm no mage, Geralt; you know that," Jaskier said, and he sat up a little straighter. "And I don't like the implication that my skills don't have any use in the war effort. I think you should know, by now, that I am far from useless." Geralt seemed to deflate a little at those words, but he still looked unhappy. "My plan is to once again become the traveling bard. I will go from town to town, singing your praises, until one day I will be in mourning. The Witcher I followed for so many years, the one that all of the continent assumed I was in love with, was slain by a terrible monster. The young girl with hair so blonde it was nearly white perished with him. How terrible it is that I have lost them both." Geralt flinched like someone had just hit him, and Jaskier realized what he just confessed to. He wasn't ready for that conversation, and he was thankful that Yennefer was right next to him to take over and try to steer the conversation away.

"The plan is Jaskier's song, and demeanor will convince everyone that you're both dead, and that will buy us sometimes," she explained. "Maybe a year, maybe longer, but it will give you both time to plan and for all of us to focus on the war instead of you two. We can't fight Nilfgaard and worry about the two of us being safe at the same time. We just can't, so you have to stay here while we go out there."

"But you'll be alone," Ciri said. "Nilfgaard got you both before, and they could get you again. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me."

"I know, little one, but we're at war, and there isn't anything we can do about it," Jaskier said as he looked at his hands. "Yennefer and I plan to stay together as much as possible so she can look out for me, and she can pretend that I'm looking out for her. We won't be alone."

"I don't like this," Geralt said. "Why would anyone believe you that I'm dead just because of a song?" Jaskier glanced at Yennefer, and she nodded. This might go badly, and she might have to step in to keep Geralt from punching Jaskier's head off. Jaskier reached into his pocket and pulled out the medallion.

"I'll have this," he whispered, and Geralt immediately took a threatening step forward but did not attack. "Ciri, I'll need something from you as well. A ring or something I could attach to this so I could have proof that I was with you when you died, and no one who saw these two items would question me."

"Where did you get that?" Geralt snapped before Ciri could say a word. For the first time, she looked a little afraid of the Witcher, and that made Jaskier sad. He didn't want Ciri afraid of Geralt for something that none of them understood.

"I asked Vesemir to let me borrow it after I explained my intentions of keeping you and Ciri safe. After nearly strangling me and making me swear on my life to return it to his hand, he gave it to me today," Jaskier explained as he put it back in his pocket. "He gave it to me because he understands that my plan is the only way to keep the two of you safe."

"If no one ever sees us, why would they believe we were near where you say where we were when we died?" Ciri asked.

"I can handle that," Yennefer said. "Jaskier and I can glamour ourselves enough to make people mistake us for you. That will work enough along with the pendant, the ring, and the story. Jaskier's obvious devastation will help as well."

"You aren't that great of a lair, bard," Geralt hissed, and Jaskier smirked.

"Oh Geralt, you have no idea what kind of liar I actually am," he said. The four of them sat in silence as Jaskier waited to see how Geralt was going to react to this news. He asked them to stay in the winter, and they said they would, but Jaskier knew they wouldn't stay forever. There was a chance that Geralt thought that they would, and this would be seen as a betrayal. Ciri clenched her fists and looked down at her lap.

"You have to promise to come back to me," she whispered. "I can't lose anyone else."

"You know we can't make that promise, my dear," Yennefer said. "But what I can promise you is that while blood pumps through my veins and there is breath in my lungs, I will do everything in my power to return to you. That I promise you."

"So do I," Jaskier said, but he wasn't looking at Ciri when he said it; he was looking at Geralt, who was pointedly staring at the fireplace and not them. Ciri nodded and got up to hug both of them. She felt good in Jaskier's arms, and he held onto her a little tighter than he needed to.

"When do you leave?" Ciri asked after she pulled away from both of them.

"The end of the week at the same time as Eskel and Lambert," Yennefer said. "We will go with Eskel to Ard Carraigh because that is the last place we were spotted and go on our own from there." Ciri nodded but looked like she wanted to say more. Jaskier could see her fighting tears, and she fled the room before they could fall. It was just the three of them now, and this made Jaskier more than a little nervous.

"You expect me to stay here while you two are out there," Geralt said.

"Yes," Yennefer said without hesitation. "Because Ciri needs you to stay here, and you'll do more harm than good out there right now. You'll only draw more attention to yourself and her."

"If you think I'm going to sit up here if you two get caught--"

"But you will," Jaskier interrupted. "You have to stay here, or anything Yen and I go through, anything we have to suffer would be rendered pointless. We need everyone to think you're dead, and if you come crashing in to save us, then it won't matter anymore." Geralt had a look on his face like they were gutting him, and this is so much worse than Jaskier ever thought it could be.

"Geralt--" Yennefer said, but whatever she was going to say, Geralt decided he wasn't going to hear it. He walked out of the library without another word. Jaskier collapsed against the back of the couch and rubbed his temples. Yennefer sat utterly still, her back straight, wearing that stone-cold sorceress expression he had only seen on her once before when she denied that he meant anything to her. Neither of them moved or said a word for hours, and they were still there when Eskel found them wondering why Geralt was in such a bad mood.

+++

For the next day and a half, Geralt didn't talk to either of them. Jaskier wished he was surprised by all of this, but he really wasn't. There was a reason that he wasn't looking forward to that conversation and why he was putting off having another that was probably going to be just as challenging, if not more so. Everyone seemed to know what had happened, and while Eskel didn't look any happier about Jaskier taking the medallion, he didn't try to kill anyone over it. He thought that splitting up in the city was probably the best idea and agreed to have Yennefer portal the three of them to the outskirts of the city when they were ready to leave. Lambert glared from the corners and swore under his breath but didn't say anything. Ciri looked sad, but she seemed to understand that this was something that was going to happen regardless of how she reacted to it and didn't want the last days to be sad.

Geralt didn't share those sentiments, and Jaskier didn't like spending time around someone who was glaring at him so much. So Jaskier spent his time in the room he shared with Yennefer, composing the song that he would sing when he would declare that Geralt and Ciri were both dead. It needed to be perfect to catch on in a meaningful way and spread like wildfire the way that Toss a Coin did. It was the only way to keep the two of them safe, so Jaskier was determined to get it right. So he wasn't paying attention and nearly jumped out of his skin when Yennefer slammed the door to the room opened and dragged Geralt through the door.

"Just who the fuck do you think you are, Geralt of Rivia," Yennefer snapped, and Jaskier didn't want to be here for this fight, but they were blocking the door, so running didn't seem like it was an option right now.

"I could ask you the same question," Geralt replied. Jaskier knew that tone because he had it directed at him on the mountain not so long ago, and he flinched without meaning to at the memory.

"You do not own me," Yennefer said, low and dangerous, and the air felt heavy with her Chaos. "And you don't own Jaskier either. What did you think was going to happen? You asked us to stay, and that meant you suddenly owned us?"

"I asked you to stay, and you did. I thought that meant something, but now you're leaving so clearly it doesn't," Geralt snapped.

"Just because we decided to stay with you, it doesn't mean we wouldn't ever go out on our own again. You don't get to keep us, Geralt, you don't get to lock us in this keep and pretend that it's for our safety. You don't get to make that choice for him, and you certainly don't get to make it for me."

"So you say that Jaskier is yours, but you're not willing to do the same for me." For the first time, the two of them turned their attention on Jaskier, and he blinked as he stared at the two of them.

"Yennefer doesn't own me," Jaskier said. "That's not what she means; she says that I'm hers. It's different. Is this why you've been acting like a complete asshole for the last couple of days? You think we're abandoning you." Geralt growled but didn't answer, which was answer enough as far as Jaskier was concerned. Yennefer still looked curious, but Jaskier stood up and walked across the room, his hands in the air in surrender, and he made sure that he didn't break eye contact with Geralt as he stepped forward. "I will do everything I possibly can to come back to you and Ciri. I made that promise to both of you, not just her, but right now, we need to go in different directions. We need to keep you and Ciri safe."

"I swore to that girl and to you that I would not stop trying to come back while I lived," Yennefer said. "And I also told Ciri that was all I could promise her and that's all I can promise you too. If that isn't enough, Geralt, then we need to stop this thing between the three of us."

"The plan won't change," Jaskier said as he stood by Yennefer's side and stared at Geralt. "And we'll still do everything we can to come back to you; it just won't be in the same capacity. You don't get to keep us here, Geralt, even if you think it means keeping us safe." Geralt stared at the two of them for a long time, and, for a moment, Jaskier thought this was it. He spent all of this time and energy loving this idiot man, and he was going to lose him. Geralt sighed and eventually looked at the two of them.

"I'm not going to apologize for wanting you both to be safe," Geralt said.

"Neither are we," Yennefer replied. That night the three of them climbed into the bed and wrapped themselves around each other. This time Geralt was in the middle, and Jaskier held onto him a little tighter than necessary. They were sometimes speaking, but in general, they were lying together and enjoying each other's presence.

"I told Jaskier that I feel like I wasted time, Yen," Geralt said after several hours of the three of them lying together, and Jaskier tensed up. "I didn't want to waste more."

"You're an idiot, Geralt, but I know what you mean," Yennefer said. "It's different for us than it is for you, Jaskier." They both sounded so sad at the idea of wasting his limited time, and Jaskier didn't want to think about this. He closed his eyes and tried to think if he was going to have another chance to do this, and he realized that he might not. They were all calm right now, they were all holding each other, and he was reasonably sure that he could sleep in the library if they kicked him out of the room.

"You don't have to worry about it," Jaskier said carefully.

"We do, but I understand why you wouldn't," Geralt said like it was that easy, and he was just going to have to come out and say it. Yennefer, however, sat up and looked down at him. He squirmed a little under her stare and tried to find the words.

"I mean, my time isn't as limited as you both think it is?" Jaskier tried, and this time Geralt sat up too, and now they both were staring at him. Jaskier swallowed as he sat up and looked at the two of them. "It's not that big of a deal, but my mom kind of had an affair with an elf. I've been getting more and more inhuman looking as I've been getting older, but I pretty much stopped aging around age eighteen. Now my eyes just get a little bluer each year, and my skin looks a little too perfect. So, you don't have to worry about wasting my time because I'm not going anywhere. I might not live as long as the two of you, though, probably because you both have a death wish and--" Whatever Jaskier was going to say was cut off by Geralt yanking him into a hard kiss that stole all of the air from his lungs. It was hard enough to bruise, and by the time Geralt pulled away, Jaskier had to gasp for air.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Yennefer asked as she reached forward and touched his cheek gently as if she was looking for his elvish qualities now that she knew they were there. Jaskier knew that his eyes were just a little too blue, his voice a bit too pure, and his ears had a slight point to them. It was luck; a local mage had told his family all of those years ago, he looks almost human and will live for ages. 'He will carry on your line long after you're gone,' she had said back when they thought Jaskier was going to be a model son. Now he was the one that they didn't want to talk about because he was a disgrace that was going to live a very long life.

"I hid it for so long that I wasn't sure you wouldn't hate me for hiding it," Jaskier whispered. "And then sometimes I wasn't sure if Geralt knew. I mean, how did you not notice I didn't age in the two decades you've known me? And when I realized that neither of you knew, I just didn't know how to bring it up without it being weird."

"And now?" Geralt asked. "Why now?"

"This might be the last time the three of us get to be together like this, and I didn't want to keep it a secret anymore. I didn't want either of you thinking you had somehow wasted my time or my life when I have freely given you both all I have," Jaskier said. Geralt manhandled him into the middle of the bed, the place where Jaskier usually found himself when they all slept together, as they all began to drift off for the night. Just like that, it was over; the two conversations Jaskier didn't want to have were done, and he felt like he could sleep even if he still felt like an interloper sleeping between two people destined to be together.

+++

The next two days were better, but Jaskier could still feel how unhappy Geralt was with him. He also knew that Eskel and Lambert knew about the medallion now and how they weren't exactly thrilled about it either. While Eskel merely glared and walked away, Lambert pinned Jaskier to a wall and threatened his life if he didn't bring it home. If he were a smart man, he'd be afraid of these Witcher's that seemed keen to skin him alive if he didn't bring this medallion home, but he wasn't. Jaskier was not going to die until he brought it back, and he was going to do everything he could to keep Geralt and Ciri safe.

Lambert left first and muttered something about staying further north so he could stay away from their bullshit and war, which was a fair reaction. Jaskier watched him go and how he was angry that Eskel didn't have to walk down the mountain when he did. Yennefer offered to portal him anywhere he wanted, and he told her to fuck off. The next morning they were due to set off, and Ciri looked like someone was gutting her. Jaskier found her on the training grounds, alone, and she was crying. He put an arm around her shoulders and held her close as he sang the Cintran lullaby that he sang to her the first day they were together in Kaer Morhen.

"I don't want you to go," Ciri said as she cried into his clothes. "The people who leave me don't come back, and I don't want you to leave me."

"I know, little one, I know, but I have to do this so I can help keep you safe. This is the only way I know how to do that," Jaskier replied as he kissed the top of her head. "Geralt and Vesemir are going to take good care of you, and you get to see what these mountains are like when you can actually go outside and experience them. You're going to learn so much while I'm gone that by the time I come back, you're going to be a Witcher."

"Then I can protect you," Ciri whispered, and that warmed his heart.

"Yes, then you can protect me, but right now, it's the other way around, so you need to train hard so we can switch places," Jaskier said. Ciri nodded and fiddled with her clothing. Eventually, she pulled off the one ring that she wore and handed it to him. Jaskier took out the medallion and added the ring to the chain. The ring had the signal of the Royal House of Cintra on it, so it was plain to see that it was a ring worn by royalty. There was only one person who could have had it, and that was the point.

The two of them stood up and walked out to the front of Kaer Morhen, where Geralt, Yennefer, Vesemir, and Eskel were waiting. Their horses were already set up, and Jaskier's bag was near Yennefer's feet. His sword was on his hip, and his lute safely tucked on his back.

"Take care of yourselves," Vesemir said to the three of them. "I expect to see all three of you back here for the next winter."

"We intend to be here," Yennefer replied. Vesemir nodded and gestured for Eskel to follow him for a moment. It was no doubt to give the three of them some privacy, which Jaskier appreciated more than he could name. Geralt was having a hard time with this, and it would be worse with Vesemir and Eskel nearby. Ciri raced up to Yennefer and threw her arms around her. They held onto each other and began to talk about Chaos and magic softly. Jaskier glanced at Geralt, who took a few steps closer.

"I want you to try and be safe out there," Geralt said. "I know you, and I know how you are when people insult me. If someone tries to tarnish my memory, I don't want you to do something stupid like try and fight them or something. I want you to walk away."

"Oh Geralt, we both know that there isn't a soul on the continent who would believe that I would walk away from someone trying to tarnish your memory," Jaskier said, and he smiled. "But I promise not to try and get myself into any trouble purposely. Besides, I'll have Yen with me, and she's a great deterrent for trouble, almost as good as you. They take one look at her, and they know that it's probably not a good idea to try and pick a fight with me." Geralt smiled softly and leaned forward, so he was pressing his forehead against Jaskier. They didn't kiss, they didn't even touch each other, but the motion felt more intimate than anything they had done all winter. Jaskier had to close his eyes because it was too much.

Geralt closed the distance between them, and they kissed. It was soft but passionate and enough that Jaskier felt a little dizzy when Geralt pulled away. He blinked and could only watch dumbly as Geralt walked over to Yennefer and began to speak to her as well. Ciri joined Jaskier's side, and he hugged her tightly again. He didn't want to watch Yennefer and Geralt say goodbye; that felt wrong somehow.

"Please come back," Ciri whispered as she held onto him. "He won't say it, but he needs you just as much as I do."

"I know, little one, I know," Jaskier whispered. They were all pulling away when Vesemir and Eskel walked back into the courtyard. It wasn't wise to ride their horses through a portal, so Jaskier took his horse's reins and looked back at Geralt, Ciri, and Vesemir as he got ready to go through the portal. He had to come back to this place to return the medallion, that was the only option he had, and that was it. Yennefer opened the portal, and they didn't have time to linger, not with three people and three horses, so Jaskier didn't have time to hesitate. He walked through the portal without looking back.

+++

Eskel went his own way by the time they got to Ard Carraigh and bid them farewell. He told them that he looked forward to seeing them again in the winter and that he was glad he had met them. Jaskier took that for the acceptance that it was, and, for the first time in a long time, it was just him and Yennefer. He knew she had plans; he just wasn't sure where he fit into them and how much time they would be spending together.

"We need to make our way to Aretuza," Yennefer said, and Jaskier blinked because he was not a mage, and he was reasonably sure that he wasn't supposed to go there.

"Where should I meet you while you go there?" he asked.

"I said 'we,' which means you're coming with me," Yennefer said with a wave of her hand. "We won't be staying long. I want to use their resources to crackdown a friend, and then we'll be on our way."

"But I'm just a bard. I'm sure they don't want me there, and I really don't want some scary mage to turn me into a slug for going somewhere I wasn't supposed to go."

"You are mine, so no one will dare touch you," Yennefer said as if they explained everything. Jaskier didn't know what he was supposed to say to that, but he also knew better than to argue with Yennefer of Vengerberg. It took a little time, but they eventually decided that portalling to Artuza was the best course of action instead of trying to make their way on foot. However, they still needed somewhere to keep their belongings and horses. Yennefer paid for a room in an inn for a week, locked the door and enchanted it, and left their horses in the care of a young boy who promised to take good care of them. Jaskier followed her, still unsure if this was a good idea, but didn't know what else to say.

"Are you sure about this?" Jaskier asked after they had left the city and walked far enough away that they could portal, and no one would see them. Yennefer walked into Jaskier's space and took his face into her hands. Her purple eyes seemed to look directly into his soul, and he didn't know what to do with it. As always, Yennefer felt like a significant presence.

"No one will hurt you, not there, not while I live. I just need you to stay close," she said. Jaskier didn't think she was lying, and Yennefer had expelled a lot of energy keeping him alive over the last year or so. She wouldn't throw it away now, or so he was reasonably sure. He nodded and took a step back as she opened the portal. They walked through together, and Jaskier resisted the temptation to reach over and take her hand.

+++

Aretuza was both precisely what Jaskier was expecting and not. It reminded him a little of Oxenfurt in that it was clearly a school but for Chaos and mages. The women here all looked at Yennefer like she was a hero and at Jaskier like they didn't have a clue what he was doing here, which was a fair reaction. Yennefer kept her head high as she began to search for a woman called Tissaia. A few of them looked like they wanted to ask who Jaskier was and what he was doing here, but one glare from Yennefer sent them scampering away. By the time they found this, Tissaia Jaskier was convinced that he was sleeping with the greatest mage that had ever lived, and no one bothered to tell him.

Tissaia was a woman that reminded Jaskier a little of Vesemir; only she looked younger. She had the air of someone who has lived many lives and seen many things. She looked regal when they first opened the door, but the sheer look of relief of her face when she saw Yennefer was enough to break that composure.

"You're all right. I thought you were alive, I could feel it, but you're all right," she whispered. Yennefer still stood tall, but, for the first time, she smiled a smile that Jaskier hadn't seen before. This woman was to Yennefer what Vesemir is Geralt, and it was a relationship he couldn't wrap his head around.

"The burns on my hands might have taken me if it weren't for the man standing next to me," Yennefer said, and Jaskier nearly jumped because he did not think he was going to be addressed directly. "Tissaia de Vries, please meet Jaskier the Bard. We have a mutual friend, and we ran into each other after the battle. He helped care for me while I healed and kept my secrets when Nilfgaard captured us. Jaskier, may I present Tissaia de Vries Rectoress of Aretuza."

"It's an honor, my lady," Jaskier said as he bowed much like he would any other member of court. Tissaia stared at him as if she was deciding whether or not she would allow him to live and then nodded.

"Thank you for protecting one of my girls," Tissaia said with a nod of her head. "Now, what brings you here, Yennefer?"

"I want you to tell me where Triss Merigold is."

+++

Tissaia and Yennefer had a long conversation about magic, Chaos, and the Battle at Sodden Hill that Jaskier really only half paid attention to. He was tired, and this day had taken a lot out of him, not to mention Aretuza was making him extremely nervous. Jaskier didn't feel like he belonged here at all and wanted to leave as soon as possible. Yennefer, however, looked very much in her element, and as the sun began to set, he wondered if he could ask her to portal him back to Ard Carraigh for the night, and she could meet him later. Tissaia didn't seem to care that he was sitting there, and neither sorceress had acknowledged him for hours.

Jaskier was in his own head when both women stood, and he was brought back to reality. Yennefer raised an eyebrow as he scrambled to his feet, and mentally Jaskier prepared himself for another portal in such a short time. It was a lot of portal traveling for him, and he didn't always react well to it.

"You should stay the night, Yennefer, and make for where Triss is recovering in the morning," Tissaia said.

"Yes, I think that's an excellent idea, I've made a lot of portals today," Yennefer said.

"What about me?" Jaskier blurted and winced when both women looked at him. "I mean, where am I going to stay? Is there a village nearby or something?"

"You're staying with me," Yennefer said like that was the obvious answer. Jaskier wanted to ask her about that, but Yennefer and Tissaia both began to walk out of the room, and he really didn't want to be left behind. The room that Tissaia took them to was simple but nice with a large and warm looking bed.

"Someone will bring up your dinner shortly," Tissaia said, and the two women nodded their heads at each other. The door closed, and Jaskier found himself staring down a very unhappy Yennefer.

"Is there a reason you're trying to run away from me?" she asked.

"I'm not trying to run away from you," Jaskier said, and she leveled a look at him that would have sent most people turning heel to go the opposite direction. "I'm trying to run away from this place. I don't belong here, and I don't feel welcome. I shouldn't be here."

"You're mine, so no one will hurt you," Yennefer said, like that solved all of their problems. Jaskier wanted to try and explain what was going on, but there was a knock at the door as a woman brought them some food. It was late by the time they were done eating, and Jaskier just wanted to get some sleep. He collapsed back onto the bed and closed his eyes. He could feel Yennefer moving around the room and was not at all surprised when she settled herself on top of him. Jaskier was about to make some sort of smart comment when he opened his eyes and saw a very strange expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

"I told you; I don't feel welcome here," Jaskier replied.

"No, before we even left Kaer Morhen, you were acting strange. You've been distant with me, and Geralt and I want to know why." That was a much more complicated answer, and he didn't want to talk about it, but Yennefer was clearly not in the mood when he didn't answer immediately. "I could take it from you."

"You could break me in half with a thought, Yennefer, it doesn't mean that you should," Jaskier snapped. They stared at each other, both equally stubborn, but he knew that she was going to win in the end. He knew because she always won when it came to things like this. Jaskier groaned and roughly ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you remember what the Nilfgaardian mage who went through my mind said?"

"You think no one would miss you if you were gone?" Yennefer asked. "You have to know that isn't true."

"No, not about that, I know I'd be missed." Jaskier took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I don't have a place in this. You and Geralt and Ciri, you're all bound by destiny, by something far bigger than any of us. Anyone who has spent five minutes with any of you can see it. You and Geralt, Yen, you're meant to be together, and the bond between you is so much deeper than you realize. The mage said I don't have a place in this, and I don't, which is fine. There are always people that don't belong in these stories. It just means that sometimes I feel like I'm in the middle of something I shouldn't be, I'm somehow interfering with something bigger than myself, and I should leave for the good of everyone."

Yennefer stared at him for what felt like a long time, and Jaskier began to squirm under her gaze. She had a way of looking at him that set his teeth on edge, and she was giving him that very appraising look right now. It made him want to apologize or maybe flip her over on the bed and figure out a way to distract her with his mouth so they wouldn't have to talk about this. It was the thing that they had been avoiding talking about since the cottage. They got very close very quickly and maybe saying claiming someone as theirs was different to a sorceress, but Jaskier was a weak man with a soft heart. He felt something, and he couldn't deny it; he couldn't deny it for her, and he couldn't deny it for Geralt either.

"I chose you," she said after a long time. She leaned forward, so they were nearly nose to nose, and Jaskier could feel the heat and weight of her body against his. "I chose you that day in the cottage, and I chose to come north with you to look for Geralt. I chose to embrace what I felt for Geralt up there at Kaer Morhen the same way you did. Why would you ever think that you weren't part of this? Because some bitch mage said, you aren't?" Yennefer began to press soft kisses along his jawline, which were incredibly distracting. "I'm the most powerful sorceress on the continent, and I say you are as part of all of this as Geralt or Ciri or I am. Do you believe me, or do you believe some bitch that let me best her?"

"Yen, I'm--" He began, but Yennefer cut him off with a genuinely toe-curling kiss that knocked all other thoughts from his head. Jaskier wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him; she wasn't ever close enough, and he always wanted more of her. Yennefer bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and she smirked when he gasped at the pain.

"You're mine," she whispered. "And no one gets to have you but me, not even Geralt. What you and I have is different from what we have with him. What I have with you is different because destiny isn't involved. I chose you, and you chose me. Not because of destiny or magic but because we found each other, and we chose each other." Jaskier blinked, and Yennefer pinned both of his arms to the bed as she looked down at him. "I don't ever want to hear those words from you again, do you hear me?" Jaskier didn't find himself struck dumb very often, but this was one of those times. Her hands were tight enough around his wrists that he thought there were going to be bruises and he wanted them. Jaskier wanted to wear her marks all over his body if that was what she wanted.

Something between them snapped, and Yennefer released his wrists as she frantically began to untie his pants. Jaskier needed to be inside of her at that very moment, or he was going to scream, and Yennefer seemed to be feeling the same thing. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel the heat coming from her as she sat on him. She didn't have stockings on, just her small clothes, and they were easy to push to the side as he slipped two fingers inside of her. She was so wet already, and Yennefer kissed him, hard, as she managed to push his pants down just far enough to free him.

They didn't bother to take off any of their clothes as Yennefer slid down him in one perfect motion. Jaskier sat up and held her to him as she began to ride him. It was like their first time in the cottage, on the pillows, only somehow even more intense. He didn't know that sex with Yennefer could get more intense, and yet here they were. She cried out when Jaskier shifted his hips a certain way, and the entire island was going to know what they were doing. Yennefer didn't seem to care, and, as she had pointed out, she was the most powerful mage on the continent. There wasn't anyone that could touch them.

Yennefer came first without him touching her, and that was something he hadn't ever managed to accomplish before. Jaskier was a gentleman, though, and he managed to hold back. He wanted to get her there a second time, and he gathered her into his arm and practically threw her onto the bed. Yennefer laughed as she pulled him into a kiss. He hooked one of her legs into his arm and pushed back into her. Yennefer gasped against his mouth as Jaskier set a brutal pace. He knew she was getting close when Yennefer dug her nails into the skin on his neck, and he couldn't hold back anymore. They hadn't had a simultaneous orgasm yet, but here they were, and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced in bed before. They held each other as their breathing evened out.

"Is Tissaia going to murder me for fucking you here?" Jaskier asked, effectively breaking the mood, but Yennefer smirked.

"Let her try."

+++

Jaskier was more than happy to portal out of Aretuza the next morning, and he did not miss the way Tissaia was glaring at him when they left. Yennefer didn't seem to care and seemed much more focused on finding this woman named Triss. They got their things and their horses from Ard Carraigh and began to make their way south. It was nice traveling with Yennefer again; they got along well, and her magical tent made everything much easier. It seemed that this place where Triss was hiding wasn't a place they could portal to, and even then, people needed to see them. So they stopped in towns and played in various inns. Jaskier needed people to know he was around and playing if they were going to believe the lie about Geralt and Ciri.

That was the other thing they started. It wasn't difficult to use a little trickery to fool villagers into thinking they saw a man with white hair riding on a brown horse with a young girl through town or along the road. It was two weeks into their journey the first time someone asked why Jaskier wasn't traveling with Geralt anymore since Geralt had been spotted heading east, and Jaskier was heading south. Jaskier smiled and explained that they were merely going in different directions but that he would be back with his dear Witcher and his protege soon. The people believed the tales, and if the monsters that were plaguing villages near where Geralt was spotted would mysteriously die. The person who posted the contract would swear they gave up payment, then that was a bonus thanks to Yennefer. As far as everyone seemed to be concerned, Geralt was traveling with Ciri, and that was precisely what they wanted.

It took some time to find Triss Merigold's hiding place, and Yennefer said that clearly meant that she didn't want to be found. Jaskier wanted to ask if they should honor that and stop trying to find her, but Triss meant something to Yennefer, and they were going to find her with or without his input. So he rode along with Yennefer through the woods to the east of Sodden Hill. One wouldn't think someone would stay so close to a battle, but Triss had amazing wards because Yennefer was having a hard time finding her. The forest was thick, and as Yennefer searched for the house, Jaskier led the horses. He wanted to ask how long they were going to look today since it looked like the sun was going down when Jaskier suddenly tripped. He hit the ground hard and turned to see what he had tripped over. There were vines wrapped around one of his ankles, and they were tightening.

"Yen, I think I have a problem," he called out. They hadn't talked for some time, Yennefer said she needed quiet to concentrate, and Jaskier knew when to be quiet, but his voice seemed to trigger something. More vines appeared out of nowhere as they wrapped around his wrists, his arms, his legs, and his neck.

"Jaskier?" Yennefer called from several steps ahead of him.

"Yen, I need your--" Jaskier said, but his words were cut off as the vines tightened around his neck and cut off his air. He couldn't breathe, and the vines were strangling him. Jaskier wondered if this was going to be how he would die, and it was pretty anti-climatic after everything he had gone through. After all of the adventures and magic and destiny, Jaskier thought he would get a good death at least, but here he was, being killed by plants, and if this was how he was going to go out, he hoped Yennefer didn't tell anyone, so it was lost to history. She fell to her knees beside him as the world was beginning to darken around the edges.

"Triss, it's me, it's Yennefer, and he's with me! Please, stop!" Yennefer cried out. There was a feeling of hesitation in the air, and the vines that were killing him suddenly turned to dust. Jaskier sucked in a breath and coughed violently as he tried not to hyperventilate. Yennefer helped him sit up as the world in front of them shimmered, and a small cottage appeared. It looked far too similar to the cottage they recovered in, and Jaskier idly wondered if it was a standard model that sorceresses used as safe houses. The door opened, and a beautiful woman with curly dark hair and what appeared to be a terrible burn on her chest and throat opened the door.

"Yennefer? You're alive?" the woman, that Jaskier could only assume was Triss, said. Yennefer hesitated, but Jaskier patted her arm to let her know that he was fine. He just needed a moment to get his breathing regulated. Yennefer stood up and slowly walked over to Triss. The two sorceresses stared at each other for a short moment and then nearly threw themselves at each other in a desperate hug. Jaskier looked away, wanting to give them their privacy, and began to push himself to his feet. The horses were not attacked by the vines, just him, and they were both standing nearby as if nothing had happened. Vaguely, he could hear the two women talking, but he didn't want to eavesdrop on whatever sorceresses had to say to one another.

"Jaskier," Yennefer said, and he looked up to see her gesturing for him to join them. He led the horses through the last of the wards, they prickled at his skin, to where Yennefer was standing with the other woman. "Jaskier the Bard, I would like you to meet Triss Merigold. Triss, this is Jaskier."

"Yennefer says you saved her," Triss said.

"It's more like we saved each other," Jaskier replied as he bowed politely.

"I apologize for my defenses. My magic recognized Yennefer, which is why it didn't attack her," Triss said, and Jaskier waved her off. His throat hurt, and he could feel the bruises that were already forming, but he was with two sorceresses. He figured one of them could take care of his wounds. "You can stable your horses out back, and then please come in. I'd love to hear what you've been doing all of these months."

+++

It was well into the night by the time they finished catching Triss up with everything that had happened, and by the time they were done explaining everything, the bruises on Jaskier's wrists had bloomed brightly. His neck still hurt, but it turned out that Triss was a healer above all else, and she asked him to lie down so she could work on healing the bruises. She said it was the least she could do after causing the damage. It was still strange getting healed by magic and even stranger that it was someone other than Yennefer. He felt better when he opened his eyes, but the two women stayed up to keep talking by the time Jaskier decided it was time to get some sleep.

It was the middle of the night when Yennefer crawled into bed with him, and she pulled him close to her body.

"We're going to stay a few days," she whispered.

"That sounds fine to me," he replied, and within moments Jaskier was asleep again. The bed was warm and comfortable, and Yennefer held him for the entire night. The next day was interesting as he watched two people so intuned with Chaos working with each other. They spoke about things that he couldn't even begin to understand, but the dynamic between the two of them was fascinating to watch. Jaskier knew that there was a good chance that Triss and Yennefer had known each other longer than he had been alive, which was a strange thing to think about. It was on the second day that Yennefer stepped out for a moment, and Triss looked at him.

"You're a strange man, bard," Triss said as she sat down and regarded him.

"So I've been told," Jaskier replied. "Are you going to threaten me and tell me not to hurt your friend or something like that? Because I'm relatively sure that if I hurt Yennefer, the first person who would kick my ass would be Yennefer." That seemed to amuse Triss, and she smiled warmly.

"So you do know her. I'm glad to hear it," she said. Triss got up and began to look through a shelf of vials until she picked out three in particular. She handed them to Jaskier and sat back down across from him. "Those will help heal someone should they get hurt. It might not be enough to save someone's life, but it will ease the pain. I feel like if anyone should have a few doses of that, it would be you two what with your insane plan to lie to the entire continent."

"You know, Geralt, apparently, can you think of a better idea?" Jaskier asked, and Triss shook her head. "Me neither, which is why we're doing this. After I sing my song and begin to spread the rumors, Yennefer and I are going to go our separate ways for some time. She wants to go to the front lines, and she wants me to stay behind, so I can keep spreading the lie. At least that is the latest version of the plan. We didn't tell Geralt that because he wouldn't like the idea of either of us alone."

"From what you've both told me, it does sound like you attend to attract a fair amount of trouble for a bard," Triss replied, and her smile faded as she looked at her hands. "I'm still healing, or I would go with you both so you would have someone else to help."

"Maybe when you're healed, the three of us can travel together," Jaskier suggested. "You and Yennefer are obviously really close, and I think she would like to have someone nearby." Triss nodded as Yennefer walked back into the room. She looked between the two of them and narrowed her eyes.

"I don't trust the two of you alone and together," Yennefer said, and Jaskier laughed because that was probably a fair assessment. Triss didn't say anything, but she was smiling again. She moved a little easier, like the burden of her scars wasn't bothering her as much anymore.

+++

They stayed another day before setting out. Triss bid them both farewell and pushed a charm into Yennefer's hand. She whispered something that Jaskier couldn't hear, and he looked away when the two women hugged each other. He kissed Triss's hand and grinned when she blushed a little. She was beautiful, and Jaskier very much hoped that people would look beyond her scars in the future. He knew how vital appearance was in court for nobles and for mages. Yennefer seemed a little calmer as they left the cottage behind, and they both decided that it was time to spread the lie. Yennefer listened for rumors of a monster and sent out her specters of Geralt and Ciri for the townsfolk to see. It wasn't hard to leave some blood on the road where it looked like two people died, and people would start their own rumors from there.

Yennefer portaled them to Vizima, where Jaskier traded in his bright and colorful clothes for black and put on the medallion with the ring for the first time. He touched the wolf engraving and closed his eyes. It was time to show the world that he was a man in mourning. Jaskier took his lute and went downstairs. People were surprised to see a bard dressed in black and began his mournful tale about the White Wolf dying in an epic battle and the little that traveled with him dying too. The entire inn was taken in by the tale, and Jaskier knew that he had them. They believed every single word that he was singing. He met Yennefer's eyes from across the bar, and she toasted him with her wine glass, and it was only his commitment to his craft that kept Jaskier from grinning.

Yennefer went to run errands around the city while Jaskier played a man who was drowning his sorrows in booze. The truth was he wasn't drunk, not really, but he was playing a drunk man, and he wanted people to think he was a little out of his mind. He must have been convincing because one woman came over and gave her sympathies for his loss, which blew Jaskier's mind a little. He talked loudly about his sorrow, the dirt that he could still feel under his fingernails from burying the bodies himself, and how he would never forget the blood on his hands. By the time they left, all of Vizima was talking about his torrid affair with the Witcher and the sorceress that was watching out for the heartbroken bard.

By the time they got to the next town, people were lining up to buy Jaskier drinks because they felt so terrible for him. He took the free drinks and food though he did insist that some go to Yennefer that he explained was "guarding his broken heart," which made her roll her eyes. She left that night to go and check on the front lines of the war, and Jaskier was alone in the tavern. A man walked up and sat down next to him. The man was armed, Jaskier could tell, but he was too, and he was not nearly as drunk as he was pretending to be.

"So the rumor is you're dying a broken-hearted man, bard," the man said.

"Oh yes, I'm an artist who has lost his muse and so much more," Jaskier replied dramatically. "I lost my Witcher this year. I never thought I would live to see the day."

"So it's true then, the Witcher and the girl he was traveling with are dead?" the man asked, and this was a man looking for confirmation, so Jaskier was going to provide it.

"I wanted something to remember them by, so I took these," he said and showed the man the ring and the medallion. The man, a mercenary no doubt, looked surprised to see something as tangible as this much proof. Ciri wouldn't part with that ring, and everyone knew a Witcher didn't part with their medallion. It was proof, and Jaskier eyed the man as he seemed to come to terms with it. The man didn't say anything else, and he left a few minutes later, no doubt to ride to the people he was hunting for. Jaskier wondered if the price on his own head was going to go away if Geralt was assumed dead.

Two days later, Jaskier's purse was full of what he could only call "sympathy coin," no less than three people had tried and failed to sleep with him to make him feel better. He was moderately sure his tearful goodbye to his Witcher was spreading faster than Toss a Coin ever did. Yennefer walked back into the tavern and gestured for Jaskier to join her up in the room he was renting. She looked tired but unharmed, which was what he wanted.

"Some of our spies within the Nilfgaardian army are saying such interesting things," Yennefer said as she settled down on the bed and gestured for Jaskier to join her. He locked the door, set his lute aside, and climbed into the bed with her. Yennefer must have been more tired than she looked because she let him wrap her in his arms and just hold her.

"Oh? And what would those things be?" Jaskier asked.

"That the Witcher and the princess are both dead," Yennefer said, and she sounded smug. "Our plan is working."

"I'm glad to hear that they believe me; do we know if they still want my head?" he asked, and Yennefer shrugged, which was a reasonable response. "I thought we should go to Oxenfurt next. If I could get the chance to perform my song in front of the students and the bards about to go out and travel the world, it would get even more traction." Yennefer hummed in agreement and pressed her lips to the sensitive point on his neck where she could no longer leave a mark, or it would ruin the ruse. She fell asleep not long after, and Jaskier decided to stay in his room for the night. It would make sense that a heartbroken man would need a night in bed, and he tended to sleep better when Yennefer was nearby.

+++

Jaskier was right that Oxenfurt was the right place to go. The song hit big in the city, and several of his old teachers had him come and teach a lecture. He used the song as a chance to really explain how genuine emotion could cause a reaction from a crowd, which was something young bards needed to know, even if the song was based on a lie. Yennefer took off for a few days as he worked, and he didn't have too many problems. On the second day, two men jumped him in an alley, and they clearly didn't think Jaskier was someone who could fight back. He gutted one and slit the throat of the other. The black clothes he was wearing hid the blood, so no one knew. It was nice to be on familiar streets again, and he liked being in the city, but he missed Geralt and Ciri like limbs, and not having Yennefer there made it even worse.

He got the letter on the fourth day that Yennefer was gone, and he was trying to figure out how he was going to contact her when the door opened, and she let herself into his room without even bothering to knock.

"You're going to get yourself killed if you don't start locking your doors," she said as she walked in. Once again, she looked tired but unharmed, which was the best he could hope for when it came to Nilfgaard.

"What's the latest?" he asked because this letter wasn't that important, and they could talk about it another time.

"Fringilla and Cahir are both somewhere out there," Yennefer said as she sat down on the bed next to him. They were the ones that he was worried about; if there was anyone who could see the truth in the lie, it was them. There were terrible rumors about the things that Cahir did to the people he captured, and Jaskier knew what it felt like when a sorceress went digging through someone's head. He had hoped that the army had called them back behind the lines, but it seemed that they weren't that lucky. "We don't know where and we don't know what they are looking for or what they're doing."

"You mean we don't know if they believe our little white lie," Jaskier said, and Yennefer hummed in agreement. That was a problem that they needed to address; if the mage and a high ranking member of the army didn't believe the lie, then it would be hard to keep it going.

"What do you have in your hand? Something is bothering you; I can tell," Yennefer said.

"Oh, I got a letter from my parents," Jaskier said, and before he could react, Yennefer snatched the letter from his hands.

"It seems your song has made it to your parent's court, and they are worried about you. They think you should come home to mend your broken heart."

"It's not the kind gesture it sounds like," Jaskier said. "It will just become this big, dramatic thing about inheritance and how my sister and brother should be the ones to get the title and how they want me to give up the name and whatever. They don't approve of what I do, and they like how long I'm going to apparently live even less. It's a long time for someone like me to sully the good family name or something." Jaskier said, and he waved it off. "That being said, it would make sense that a man as torn up inside as I am about Geralt and Ciri to go home for some time."

"You want to go?" Yennefer asked.

"Not even a little, and I will lose the last of my dignity to beg you to come with me. I cannot handle that place by myself, and my parents won't pull any of their bullshit if they know I have a powerful mage with me," Jaskier said, and he slowly began to smirk. "Also, the look on their faces when they see me in mourning but also walking in with you? Oh, the drama, it would be worth it alone."

"Of course, that's what you're thinking about," Yennefer said, but she looked interested. "I suppose I am wondering what kind of environment could have brought you into the world." Jaskier sputtered his offense, but the words died on his lips when Yennefer climbed into his lap. She had a way of knocking all of the coherent thoughts from his mind.

+++

They take the long way to Lettonhobe, no portals, mostly because Jaskier is petty and wants to make his family wait on him for once. They stop in plenty of inns so he can keep singing his song, and more people can think Geralt and Ciri are dead. It seems to be working, but the idea of Fringilla and Cahir out there makes him a little nervous. Yennefer is there, and she'll look out for him, and he'll look out for her the best he can. By the time they get to Lettenhove, Jaskier knows his parents are going to be annoyed that he took so long, and he can't wait to wallow in it.

The guards at the door nod and let him in without a word, but they eye Yennefer like they don't know what to do with her. Jaskier is still in his black clothes, and Yennefer's dress is much more elaborate than she's been wearing as they travel. She looks like a goddess, and if he wasn't about to walk into his family home, he'd drop down to his knees and worship her. And judging from her raised eyebrow, Yennefer knew precisely what he was thinking.

Jaskier entered the room with all the flourish he could muster; if he had to be here, then he was going to put on a show. He couldn't remember the last time he was honest around his family, and he certainly wasn't about to start now. They both looked a little startled when he walked into the room, and they absolutely didn't know what to do with Yennefer standing beside him.

"Julian, you came home," his mother said.

"And you brought someone with you," his father replied like he couldn't believe this was really happening.

"Oh yes, I came home, you asked me to, didn't you? Well, I brought a dear friend of mine; I would like to present the esteemed sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg. Yennefer, meet my parents, the Viscount and Viscountess de Lettenhove."

"Jaskier has told me a great deal about you," Yennefer said with a polite nod of her head because she bowed to absolutely no one.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady," his father said, and it looked like he was having a hard time maintaining a courtly smile. "I'm afraid Julian didn't tell us that he was bringing a guest. We will get to work making up a room for you."

"That isn't necessary since Jaskier, and I share a room," Yennefer said, and she did not miss the way his father emphasized his birth name over his preferred name and how Yennefer was going out of her way to use his preferred name. If he weren't already completely gone on her, this moment would have tipped the scale. Jaskier enjoyed the way his mother paled, and his father looked like he might actually combust.

"Julian, I thought you were in mourning," his mother said carefully.

"We both are I'm afraid," Jaskier replied because the idea of him being with two people was something that would make them crazy, and Yennefer agreed to share the information with his parents. "But not many people know that about the three of us, so I'm assuming I can count on your discretion."

"Yes, your discretion would be greatly appreciated," Yennefer said with a smile that had an extremely dangerous edge. She looped one of her arms through his and Jaskier looked forward to taking her to bed tonight. His parents seemed to realize that they were being threatened and stood up a little taller.

"Of course, you're our son, Julian, and your secrets are our secrets," his mother said, and he almost believed her. "We just wanted you to have somewhere to come if you wanted to mourn for the loss of your Witcher."

"Of course you did, mother," Jaskier said. "Dinner? We've had quite a journey and would love a good meal."

+++

Dinner was precisely the tense affair Jaskier thought it would be. As always, his father looked at him with barely contained disdain, and his displeasure at Jaskier's antics seemed almost palpable. His mother seemed a little more genuine in that she really wanted him home and safe, but he didn't really believe it. His place in the line of inheritance was one that caused a lot of strife; he was a bastard after all, and his father, or the man who raised him, thought the title should go to his blood children. However, passing Jaskier would mean admitting to the affair and the scandal that would come with it. There was no winning.

The truth was when it came down to it, Jaskier was planning on abdicating to his younger sister, Sera, when the time came. She wanted the title, and she was good at it, and with their younger Benjen watching out for her, they would be fine. They didn't need Jaskier mudding the waters, and he didn't want it for them either. They never treated him any differently despite them only being half-siblings, which he always appreciated. They were planning on coming by in a few days, but Jaskier wasn't sure he was planning on staying that long. He took Yennefer to bed and smiled when she held him down on the soft sheets in a softer mattress.

The next morning they both decided to go and run a few errands. There was a shop selling potion ingredients that Yennefer wanted to look at nearby, and there were a few people Jaskier legitimately missed and wanted to see around town.

"We'll meet up for lunch later?" he said.

"Unless I find someone better," Yennefer replied magnanimously. They had a large breakfast that was delivered to their room, and Jaskier was grateful for the break from his parents. They had made themselves scarce in the morning, which was a little strange but not that surprisingly, all things considered. Jaskier rolled his eyes as he lost Yennefer among the crowds and began to make his way through town. As much as Lettenhove had bad memories for him, he did enjoy his hometown, and the people here deserved an excellent leader which was all the more reason he planned on abdicating.

Jaskier was so lost in his own head that he nearly fell flat on his ass when someone bumped into his shoulder. He turned around to apologize when he realized that the person was staring at him with a smirk. Their clothes were covered in a black cloak, but he would recognize that black armor anywhere. His heart plummeted as the sound of screaming echoed through the town as people began to run away from something happening not far away from him. The man that bumped into him pulled off his cloak and revealed his armor.

"Julian Pankratz, better known as the bard Jaskier," he said. "We've been looking for you." Jaskier had his sword on his hip, he never left home without it, and he took a step back to pull it out.

"I can only assume you must be Cahir," Jaskier said, and Cahir smirked as the sound of screaming increased, and Jaskier could hear what sounded like someone casting magic. Someone was battling Yennefer, but there was something wrong. He didn't feel steady on his feet the way he should have.

"Why don't we skip the part where we fight and you just surrender," Cahir said. "Then, I can put a blade to your throat so I can get the lovely sorceress to surrender as well."

"I'm not going to let you use me against her," Jaskier replied as he held up his sword. His hand was shaking, which didn't make any sense. His hand hadn't shaken while holding a sword in many years, and there wasn't any reason for it to start now. Cahir shrugged and charged at him. Jaskier didn't know if Cahir was that fast or if he was slow, but he was having a hard time blocking the man's blows. He was running on instinct more than skill at this point, and mentally he thanked Vesemir for the entire winter of lessons, or he probably would have lost his head already. Jaskier ducked a blow that would have taken his head off, but Cahir moved and cut his shoulder, deeply. Jaskier hissed and stumbled back a few steps.

"You're more talented than I expected," Cahir said. "But you seem a little sluggish, is something wrong, bard?"

"I have enough skill to take care of you," he lied. Jaskier knew he didn't have enough skill; he just needed to stall long enough for Yennefer to take care of these people. He refused to allow himself to be used as a pawn to hurt her. He would rather die. Cahir smirked and charged again at him again, but this time Jaskier could block even less of his attacks. It took almost no time for Cahir to land a deep cut on his side, and Jaskier stumbled to his knee on the streets. He placed a hand over the wound to try and stem the blood flow.

"Stop this!" a voice called out, and Jaskier looked up to see his mother and father rushing toward them. They might not be fond of him, but Jaskier was reasonably sure that an attack like this wouldn't stand, and they would arrest Cahir and whoever was attacking Yennefer. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him."

"He pulled the blade on me, viscountess, if you had put the correct herbs in his food, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Cahir said, and Jaskier's word screeched to a halt. Had his parents drugged him? This meant that Yennefer's food was drugged as well, and if Cahir was here, then there was a good chance that Fringilla was as well. That meant that Yennefer was in trouble, and it was time to end this. Jaskier pushed himself to his feet and ignored the dizziness that came from the blood loss. He bared his teeth at Cahir and raised his blade to the man. Jaskier fought with everything he had, but he wounded, he was under the influence of something, and before long, Cahir knocked the blade from his hand and slammed the pommel of his sword into Jaskier's forehead. He stumbled to the ground, and two hands grabbed his arms. He struggled, but the wound in his shoulder screamed in pain, and it wasn't enough. Vaguely, he could hear his parents talking, but he couldn't make out the words. Jaskier also realized that he couldn't hear the battle with Yennefer anymore.

Jaskier didn't stop struggling, spitting insults at these men whenever he could, but they held on tightly to him. They turned to the corner to the sight of what appeared to a battle. There were several things on fire and what looked like the remains of bodies on the ground. Yennefer was on the ground in the middle with another woman, with short hair and dark eyes, standing over her. She looked up when they approached and smirked.

"Lady Fringilla, I see you were successful," Cahir said.

"As were you," Fringilla said as she looked Jaskier over, and he hated that look. He knew it all too well; it was the look of someone that thought of him like a thing instead of a person. Jaskier didn't have an ounce of self-preservation, and he spat a wad of blood directly into Fringilla's face and smirked.

"The only way you could beat her was to drug her," Jaskier hissed. Everything around them seemed to hold its breath for a moment, and Jaskier was sure this was the moment he died. What happened next happened quickly. One moment he was being held up by Cahir's men, and the next Fringilla had her hands around his neck and had slammed him into the ground. It was hard enough that Jaskier nearly blacked out, and it took some considerable effort not to pass out. He vaguely heard his mother cry out.

"You swore not to hurt him!" he heard her say. "We said we would help you get the witch if you promised not to hurt our son and let him stay with us!"

"I don't remember making that promise," Fringilla said as she looked down at him. "Besides, this little songbird needs to learn what happens when he sings out of turn." She squeezed his throat, but instead of his air supply getting cut off, there was pain. It was like the pain of someone going through his head but centered around his throat, and Jaskier couldn't hold back his screams. Someone was yelling in the background, begging for her to stop, and he thought it sounded like his mother and his father which was weird. Jaskier thought his father would be happy to hear him screaming like this. He screamed and screamed until the screams suddenly stopped and he couldn't scream anymore. It wasn't like when he was with Nilfgaard the first time, and he ruined his voice. This time his voice was gone, and he realized that Fringilla must have burned it out of him. He couldn't speak anymore.

"No more singing lies for you, little lark," Fringilla whispered as she released his throat. Jaskier couldn't move if he wanted to; between the burning pain in his throat and the blood seeping from the wound on his shoulder and his side, he wasn't sure how he could possibly move. He turned his head just enough to look across the square and saw Yennefer watching him. Her purple eyes were wide, and she looked flushed like she was working hard to make something happen. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry that he shouldn't have brought them here, but he didn't know if she could hear him.

"Please," his mother begged. "Please, let me have my son; you have the witch that burned your troops. My son is just a bard."

"Your son is wanted for the murder of at least a dozen Nilfgaardian soldiers," Cahir said. "He'll be taken to the Emperor where he'll be put to death, but I will make sure that His Grace knows the sacrifice you made by giving up your firstborn for the good of your future ruler." Jaskier closed his eyes and tried not to think of Ciri and Geralt. They would learn about this in the worst possible way; through rumors that Lambert or Eskel would hear when they returned for winter. It would kill Geralt to know that he lost both of them like this. It was the nightmare that he was trying to avoid.

Jaskier felt the crackle of magic, and he opened his eyes to see Yennefer reaching out with a shaking hand. She looked like she could barely move, but she was opening a portal. Jaskier wanted to ask her what she was doing, but before he could say anything, something pushed him, and he found himself rolled through a small portal. Everyone began to panic as Fringilla raced toward Yennefer to subdue her. Someone reached through the portal to pull him back, but Jaskier used the last of his energy to kick out. He looked through the portal at Yennefer, and their eyes met. She nodded her head, and the last thing he saw was her purple eyes as it closed.

Jaskier blinked and realized he was in the middle of a road, and he had no idea where. He had no voice, no weapon, and he was bleeding out from two severe wounds. He fell back and looked up at the clear blue sky. The herbs his parents apparently gave him were still in his system, and it was getting harder and harder to focus. Or perhaps that was the blood loss, he wasn't really, but either way, he was wounded, muted, with nothing but the clothes on his back in the middle of nowhere. If a bandit didn't get him an animal or a monster would. Yennefer got him away from Nilfgaard, but he was going to die regardless.

There was the sound of horse beats approaching, and it was only a matter of time now. The world was beginning to fade around the edges, and Jaskier closed his eyes. This person was probably going to kill him, or they were going to leave him to die. Either way, it didn't matter anymore. The horse beats got closer as the world began to fade away, and he vaguely heard it stop nearby. He thought he heard someone get off of the horse, and just as the world faded into darkness, he heard an all too familiar voice say, "oh, for fuck's sake, of course, it's you."