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“OI!! LEAVE MY THINGS ALONE!!” Jaskier screamed at the top of his lungs. He was alone at the camp he and Geralt had made when a group of bandits pounced on him and started rooting through his things looking for something valuable to steal and sell.
He was currently being held against a bandits chest with his wrists tightly bound behind his back as they emptied his and Geralts saddle bags into the grass. Geralt had left hours ago to hunt a nest of drowners that was rumoured to be nearby, and Jaskier was left to entertain himself. Not that he found this particularly entertaining, mind you.
“Are you all deaf or something?! I told you to leave my things alone, you overgrown toads!! Wait until my Witcher gets back, he’ll-“ he was cut off by a blade to his throat, and a particularly disgusting bandit staring into his eyes. The man was large, with a stomach that looked almost distended and slightly yellow eyes to go with his foul smelling teeth. Jaskier decided to dub him ‘Toothrot’.
Toothrot sneered at Jaskier and it churned his stomach, he had to physically stop himself from gagging.
“Your Witcher clearly has better things to be doing than caring about a prissy little bird who can’t even protect his things.”
“You don’t know anything about him. He’s probably already on his way, and then you’ll be sorry! He’ll rip your guts out through your arse, you pig!!” Jaskier retorted, before he spat at the bandits shoes.
Before he could respond, he was distracted by another bandit, a young man with bushy blonde hair calling for him. “Hey boss! Look at this.”
Jaskiers eyes widened in shock as he pulled up his lute case. “No. Please not the lute. Take everything else, just not that.”
“Are you begging me, boy?” Toothrot laughed in his face. “Do it again.”
Jaskier was shoved to his knees, his hands aching from where they were tied. “Please. I am begging you. That lute is my life. If you don’t damage it, my companion might go easier on you when he returns.”
“Hm. I’m not convinced you even have a companion. Break it.” He waved a hand to the younger bandit, signalling for him to destroy the lute.
“NO! PLEASE!” But it was too late. The lute was snatched from its case and smashed across a log, splintering to tiny pieces. If it was a clean break he might have been able to repair it, but all he could do was watch as chunks of wood and strings littered the grass beside him. He couldn’t even move his arms to pick up the pieces from where they were tied behind him.
He started to sob, but was quickly interrupted by the sound of metal cutting through flesh. By the time he blinked his tears away and looked up, the bandits were dead and Geralt stood over him, a furious look in his eyes. He ducked down and started to untie Jaskiers wrists.
“Are you okay?”
Jaskier was silent.
“Jask? Are you okay?” Geralt pressed.
“My lute...”
Geralt looked down at the splinters of wood scattered between blades of grass and understood. Fuck. That lute meant more to Jaskier than anything, and Geralt knew that. He couldn’t exactly understand why the bard had such an attachment to an instrument, but he respected its importance and understood that it was necessary for his career. He knew his companions heart must be broken.
“We can fix it, we’ll take the pieces into town and fix it.” Geralt said as he rubbed a healing salve into Jaskiers wrists where the rope had severely irritated the skin.
“Geralt, it’s beyond repair. If I could fix it I would. That lute was a gift from the elves, for fuck sake. It was...it was from our first adventure together.” A tear fell down his cheek and he bowed his head.
Geralt used one hand to lift Jaskiers chin so he was looking into his eyes and the other to wipe away the stray tear.
“We’ll get you a new one then. I know it won’t be the same, I know that nothing will replace the one you lost. But we’ll get you a new one together, and you’ll make it sound just as beautiful.”
Jaskier blinked at him in shock. “I think that’s the most words you’ve ever said to me in one go.”
Geralt ducked his head, embarrassed. Then it was Jaskiers turn to lift his chin.
“That’s not a bad thing, Geralt. Thank you. You might not have saved my lute, but you saved my life. Now can we please go into town and look at the music stall?”
Geralt huffed a laugh at that and helped Jaskier to his feet. If it took a little longer than usual for him to release his hand, that was his business. They started the long walk back into town and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. But he knew that when he got his new instrument, it would mean the start of a new adventure.
Another adventure with Geralt was sure to be just as incredible as the last.