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“Meet me in Corvo Bianco if anything bad ever happens.”
Geralt had whispered that to Jaskier years ago, back when everything had still been normal. Jaskier had never had to take him up on the offer before, but now, years later, he found himself slogging across the Continent, hoping against hope that there was still a Corvo Bianco to go to.
And that there was still a Geralt to meet there.
The Continent had been ravaged by monsters, more monsters than anyone had the means to get rid of. No one knew how there had gotten to be so many. Jaskier had heard speculations that there had been a group of nobles who had started breeding them for fun and it had gotten out of hand. Another theory had been that Nilfgaard had created an army from them and then the monsters had turned against them. Yet another possibility was that some mages had created them to spite humans, tired of their nonsense and wanting to exterminate them once and for all.
Whatever the case may be, there were now monsters ravaging the Continent. Every puddle it seemed had a drowner guarding it, every wooded path had a pack of ghouls, every cave home to a griffin. Jaskier had never seen so many monsters before. At least they hadn’t started cross breeding yet.
Demand for Witchers had been high in the beginning, as one might suspect. They were the only species equipped to fight the beasts, but even they had their limits. As evidenced by the Witcher currently leaning far too heavily on Jaskier’s right shoulder.
“Do you need to rest a moment, darling?” Jaskier asked.
“No point,” Eskel said through gritted teeth. “Nowhere’s safe.”
Jaskier sighed. He was sadly correct. Stopping meant having to fight a monster, and that was simply something that Eskel could not afford to do at the moment.
Silently, Jaskier took more of his weight.
It had been like this for...months?...years? It certainly felt like years. He had no idea how long it had been since the monsters had taken over, silently claiming town after town, city after city.
It had started just as another year, another year together on the Path. Granted, there had been far more contracts than normal, which had been odd, yet welcome because it had meant more coin. But then the contracts never stopped coming. And then soon, there weren’t even people around to pay Eskel for them.
Jaskier looked ahead of them at the seemingly never ending road. The sky darkened with something that smelled like doom, and the few buildings that he could see crumbled and falling apart. The lack of people and structures made it hard to tell precisely where they were. But they had to be approaching Velen. They had to be.
Jaskier had only been thinking that for the last several weeks.
Eskel stumbled next to him again and this time Jaksier paused.
“It’ll be dark soon,” he said softly, wiping a bead of sweat from Eskel’s forehead. “We should find a place to stay the night.”
“We still have a few hours of daylight left,” Eskel protested.
Jaskier didn't say anything. They both knew just how long it took to find and set up camp, especially if it meant fighting monsters. And Eskel’s condition was slowly worsening.
He squinted against the eerie gray light for somewhere, anywhere for them to spend the night. Next to him, Eskel did the same, but Jaskier knew that there was no point. The increased numbers of monsters, combined with whatever magic had placed them there had started weakening his enhanced senses. He had been steadily declining for weeks now, and at this point wasn’t much more useful than a human, if that. But Jaskier still gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“Up there, do you think?” Jaskier asked, pointing to a run down structure on the edge of the road, a ways in front of them.
Eskel squinted, but Jaskier could tell from the set of his shoulders that he couldn't see it. It was getting worse then. They really needed to make it to Corvo Bianco soon.
“Yeah,” he nodded, still not seeing. He wasn't pleased, Jaskier could tell. But it was better than nothing.
Jaskier tightened his hold on Eskel’s waist and trudged on toward the structure. As they approached, he could see that it was nothing more than the corner of what must have been a barn at some point. It would leave them exposed to the elements, to potential monsters, on two sides. But at least there would be a roof over their heads. Despite the thick, dusty air, it smelled like rain.
Jaskier sent up a prayer to whatever Gods might still be listening that there would be no monsters lurking in the old barn.
But of course there were no Gods listening, why would there be? If there were any left they had clearly deemed this world beyond saving. And Jaskier didn't blame them.
He left Eskel leaning against the exterior of the barn and took his silver sword in with him to check out the inside. It was a testament to how poorly Eskel had gotten that he hadn’t protested.
Inside were a few young nekkers, no more than a few days old. Jaskier dispatched them quickly, using the sword and a few blasts of his own fae magic. With a wave of his fingers the dirt on the floor of the barn was transformed into a bed of green grass. He knew that it would only last a few hours, but it was better than nothing. Especially when they didn't have bed rolls anymore.
Not for the first time, he was thankful that he could still use his nature magic, that it had not become painful for him to do so, like it had for Eskel to cast signs.
“Anything?” Eskel asked, his eyes drifting to the blood on the sword that Jaskier was holding.
“A few baby nekkers, nothing to worry about,” Jaskier assured him. He didn't say that the issue would be if the mother came looking for her babies. He knew that they were both thinking it.
Eskel nodded. “Well at least we have something to eat.”
Jaskier tried not to gag, but he knew that Eskel was right. There was no way to make nekker taste good, not even with all the spices in the world. Hopefully he wouldn’t get sick again. Hopefully Eskel wouldn’t get sick again. Jaskier couldn't hold him through the spasms that came with emptying his stomach again and again. It was becoming too painful to watch.
He got Eskel settled in the barn on the patch of grass that he had grown. He placed his hand on the ground, creating a mound of grass for Eskel to rest his leg on. Some weeks (months?) back he had been injured in a fight with a kikimora and the cut hadn’t quite healed right.
Jaskier was nervous. It had never taken this long for Eskel to heal from a wound before. Admittedly, yes, there were no ingredients for him to make potions, but he should have still been able to heal from this. But it seemed that his limp was getting more and more pronounced every day. And Jaskier was useless to help him. He was a fairy, not a healer.
Blessedly, there was a small pile of dried out brush in the corner of the barn and jaskier gathered it, arranging it into a circle. He reached into his alarmingly light pack for his flint, but a weakened blast of igni sped past him, igniting the brush.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Jaskier said, turning to see Eskel massaging his hand gently with a grimace on his face. “You need to save your strength.”
“And you take forever with a flint,” Eskel countered, still rubbing at his fingers. He had broken a few of them a week back and they didn't seem to have healed completely yet. Combined with the extra effort it took him to make signs now, Jaskier would have rather he save igni for when they actually needed it. “I can still do things.”
“I know darling,” Jaskier said, doing his best to clean the nekkers and place them in a pan without grimacing. “I just want you to be safe.”
Eskel’s voice was quiet. “There is no safe anymore.”
Jaskier finished preparing the nekkers in silence and wiped his hands off before leaning back next to Eskel. He made sure to steer clear of the still tender gash on his left side, despite knowing that Eskel was probably sore all over. One could only fight so many monsters before their body stopped working. And it seemed that Eskel’s body had stopped working some time ago.
Still, Jaskier tried to keep some semblance of normal, as he always did, by pillowing his head on Eskel’s chest. But instead of comfortable, as it had once been, there was nothing more than skin and bones pressing against the back of his head. He longed for the days they had spent at Kaer Morhen, when Eskel was well fed and soft underneath him, when he healed well and could walk on his own for more than ten minutes without growing tired.
Jaskier didn't want to admit it to himself, but he didn't know how much longer Eskel would last.
They had to get to Corvo Bianco.
Eskel fell asleep before the nekkers were finished cooking. Jaskier didn't want to wake him, but he could feel how skinny Eskel was beneath him. He couldn't afford to miss any meal, no matter how small.
“Darling,” Jaskier whispered, although not as quietly as he might have once. “Wake up for me.”
Eskel opened his eyes blearily. His scars reflected in the dim firelight, giving his face a ghostly look. A premonition of what was surely not far off.
“Food’s ready,” Jaskier said. “You need to eat.”
Eskel grimaced.
“I will if you do,” Jaskier said quickly, already expecting the protest. It was the only way that he could get Eskel to eat anymore. He suspected he had lost his appetite long ago.
And so he choked down the nekker. It wasn't the worst they had eaten. Drowner was definitely worse.
Eskel fell back asleep almost as soon as he was done eating. He didn't even ask to take watches anymore. He didn't have the energy, and Jaskier knew that he would be little help anyway, but he missed their bickering over who would take the first shift. Now it was just him, fighting to stay awake, sword in one hand, the other buried in Eskel’s hair.
The next morning was just like every other morning. Break camp, pack away their few belongings, wake Eskel, continue on. It had been the same for days, weeks, months, years. Jaskier wanted nothing more than to stop, but he couldn't, not until Eskel was safe.
And then, one day, a break in the otherwise repetitive routine happened: he saw blue sky. Up ahead, some few days travel from where they were, just barely visible on the horizon, but it was there. It was there. Maybe there were still people out there.
There was an extra spring in Jaskier’s step that day. And when Eskel asked him why they were moving faster than usual, Jaskier told him about the faint strip of blue sky, how they were getting closer to it, how they would be out of this nightmare soon. Jaskier knew that Eskel couldn't see it, his eyes could hardly see a hundred feet in front of him anymore, but he trusted Jaskier, he trusted him to get them there safely.
The strip of blue sky got steadily bigger, but it still felt as though it was mocking Jaskier, always just out of reach. But he had started to sense nature again, nature beyond the dead grass and trees that were in the monster infested world. Somewhere out there, there was life. And Jaskier was going to find it.
One day, when it felt as though they could not possibly get any closer to the blue sky, Eskel collapsed against him, nearly dragging him down onto the dirt road with him.
“ Eskel !” Jaskier shouted, dropping to the ground next to him. He couldn’t lose him now, not when they were this close to getting out. Eskel couldn't quit on him now.
Jaskier tapped his face. “C’mon Eskel,” he begged. “Stay with me darling. We’re almost there, damnit !”
Eskel moaned softly, his eyes fluttering but not opening.
Jaskier had never felt relief so intense, so deep that it felt like he was being ripped in two.
“That’s it darling,” he reassured, already lifting Eskel, throwing him over his shoulder. “That’s it, stay with me. We’re nearly there, I promise.”
It was nearly twilight, or, as close to twilight as the sky could get. But Jaskier kept walking, toward the brilliant sunset splayed against the blue sky. He let the colors pull him in, colors more vibrant than any he had seen in years. And under his feet, with each sprinting step he took, grass sprang up.
He ran through the night, practically daring any monster to come at him, but his nature magic must have kept them at bay.
He slammed into the shimmering golden wall of a ward just as the sun was coming up.
Everything after that was a blur. A mage or maybe two had let him in and tried to take Eskel from him, but he had protested. He was not being separated from him. He must have been blabbering about Geralt and Corvo Bianco because the next thing he knew he was stepping through a portal and landing in the courtyard, the smell of grapes and grass and no monsters thick in the air.
“Jaskier?”
Jaskier turned to see Geralt, standing hesitantly by the door, as if not quite believing what he was seeing.
“Geralt,” Jaskier sighed, all but falling to the ground in relief. He had done it. He had made it. Geralt was alive.
“Is that…” Geralt walked closer, eyes widening when he saw Eskel limp in Jaskier’s arms.
“Help him,” Jaskier whispered, holding Eskel out to Geralt. “Please. The monster world not good on his body.”
Geralt nodded, wordlessly taking Eskel from Jaskier.
Jaskier tried not to notice how small Eskel was in Geralt’s arms. Eskel, who had once been the biggest and the strongest of them.
“Take care of yourself,” Geralt whispered. “Get settled. I’ve got him now. He’ll be okay.”
Jaskier nodded weakly, his arms already feeling empty without Eskel in them.
Geralt turned back to the house, already calling out for someone as he ran inside, Eskel cradled in his arms.
Jaskier fell to the grass and inhaled lungful after lungful of clean air. It was almost overwhelming, being around this much life , but it was a welcome change. He didn't notice that he had started crying until bluebells sprouted up from the ground where his tears hit.
He plucked one of the bluebells before walking inside, his feet leading him to where Geralt and Eskel were on autopilot.
He knocked on the open bedroom door and Geralt looked up. He had been tending to the stubborn injury on Eskel’s leg, rubbing some sort of salve on it and wrapping it tightly in bandages.
Jaskier wordlessly sat next to Eskel’s head and ran his fingers through his hair, just as he had done every night when he had been on watch duty. But this time there were no monsters to watch for.
“We didn't think there was anyone left,” Geralt whispered softly, tying off the bandage carefully.
“How long was it?” Jaskier asked softly. He almost didn't want to know the answer.
“Three years.” Geralt slid his hand across the blanket until it was covering Jaskier’s. “They told me there was no point in hoping, that if there was still a Witcher in there he would have died long ago.”
“But he had me,” Jaskier said, smiling at Eskel. “I would never let anything happen to him.”
“I know,” Geralt said.
“Know what?”
Jaskier and Geralt both jumped up at the sound of Eskel’s voice, strained and quiet but still there.
“Eskel, darling, you’re awake,” Jaskier whispered, pressing his palm to Eskel’s cheek.
Eskel’s eyes drifted from Jaskier to Geralt as a look of shock painted his face. “How-”
“We made it,” Jaskier whispered. “We made it to Corvo Bianco.”
He tucked the bluebell that he had been holding behind Eskel’s ear and for one moment, all their problems faded. They had made it. And that was all that mattered.