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Jaskier grumbled as he tuned his lute. They were in a room at an inn with two beds, for once, and only because they ran into Yennefer. The sorceress charmed her way into joining Geralt on a contract that involved what she believed to be fairies. Geralt hummed his agreement, gave an excuse that a mage would be helpful to have, and they joined together to hunt down the town’s predicament.
As far as Jaskier knew, the contract was a human serial killer. He read the descriptions of what happened from the information page, and it didn’t sound like something fairies would go out of their way to do. But what did a bard know? Nothing, if you asked a witcher and a witch.
They left him in the inn as they paired up to ask the townspeople and investigate the forest for anything out of place. Jaskier thought that was a good idea, as he would be able to make coin in the tavern and they could finish up the contract. It was supposed to be a win-win.
Jaskier looked up from his lute when he heard an odd noise. He saw a round ball-like thing enter his room from under the gap in the door. He was confused, thinking a kid was playing a game, but slowly realized that the ball was exhaling smoke. Within a few breaths, he was passed out.
He woke to the sky above him.
Jaskier slowly moved his head, but found it was hard to do. He realized a bit belatedly that he was tied down to some sort of stone. The stone was large, as he felt small compared to it. He lifted his neck in order to get a better perspective of his situation. His arms, chest, wrists, thighs, shins, and ankles were tied down for no chance of escape.
“Sweet Melitele,” he whispered.
A middle-aged man stepped forward. Jaskier saw a small crowd of large adults behind him. The man spoke, “You really must understand, we don’t want to do this. We must if we want to live. I already lost my daughter last year, I can’t lose my son as well.” The man wiped Jaskier’s hair out of his face, ignoring the gag that was in Jaskier’s mouth. “I am sorry it has to be you.”
Jaskier’s mouth felt incredibly dry as the man stepped away. He got more anxious as the rest of the group walked away as well.
Jaskier hated that he couldn’t yell, scream, or kick. He was good at kicking, screaming, and yelling. Those were his best personality traits. His eyes traced back and forth as the sun shone brightly as it slowly set over the hills. He wondered what he was dying for. Good crops, perhaps? A cult ritual? Fae? He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like the contract that Geralt and Yennefer were after.
He got used to the quiet. He tried to peacefully pass away. He thought of his sister and his niece. He thought about all of the time he spent with them, and all of the time he’d never get.
Then, there was a rustle of leaves. His blue eyes jerked to the left. At lightning speed, a woman was standing over him. Jaskier felt his heart drop. The woman was different in a way many humans wouldn’t suspect, but he traveled with a witcher. Jaskier knew that the being in front of him wasn’t human.
The woman tutted, “They’re really dramatic, aren’t they? I don’t tell them to tie down the sacrifices. I think the farmer – the one that smells like rotten onions – has a kink for it.” She smiled, showing off slightly askew teeth. “What’s your name?” Jaskier blinked. “Oops.” She took out the gag, letting it drop onto the forest floor.
“Jaskier,” he rasped. He’d do anything if it meant earning more time for Geralt and Yennefer to find him. “You call call me Jaskier.”
She breathed out huskily, “Jaskier.” Tilting her head to the side, she added, “I like that name. Buttercups are poisonous, and, well, I love pretty things in disguise.”
“Are you– are you a buttercup?”
Her eyes glinted red for just a moment. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say it was the way the sun caught her eye. “I figure myself more as belladonna. It’s quite fatal, you understand.” Her hand traced Jaskier’s cheek. “You’re a good sacrifice. When did you get into town?”
“Late last night.”
“Ah. So this was last-minute.” She started to cut the ropes that tied Jaskier to the rock with her claws. “Surely this is too much,” she muttered. “Humans can’t tear through rope that easily.”
Jaskier twitched his hand. He was free. He could run–
She stared, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t do it,” she spoke. “If you go with me willingly, I won’t kill you. If you struggle, I’ll kill you and find someone else to take for the year.”
It wasn’t an empty threat. The claws she was able to retract at any time were testament to that. Jaskier gulped, then nodded. She grinned, showing off teeth that would surely grow sharper if she wanted. Jaskier slid off of the stone and let himself be guided through the woods. He knew he should have shouted, but any voice of reason died in his throat.
They arrived at a cave. Jaskier’s mind immediately repeated, “nopenopenopenope,” as he approached it. The woman rolled her eyes and led him through the dark. The cave was much deeper than he first thought. Then, there seemed to be stairs. He blinked repeatedly upon seeing the cave lit up, the stone carved into something liveable.
She led Jaskier to a stone slab with a make-shift mattress on it. “This is yours.” She pointed to another stone slab with a much finer mattress atop it. “That is mine.”
Jaskier sat down on the bed, as there weren’t other places to go. He tried to pretend that a spider wasn’t crawling where his head would sit if he fell asleep on the bed. The woman, meanwhile, didn’t seem to care what Jaskier did. She messed with a small fire pit. It looked like she was boiling water.
Jaskier sat on the bed silently for a long time. The sun had long set, and the only light around was from a few torches set high in the cave’s walls, probably so a human couldn’t reach. The strange being that the town sent sacrifices to, served the bard up some tea. Jaskier wasn’t about to turn down some hospitality, so he took it graciously. He didn’t want to offend a being that could surely kill him at any moment.
Jaskier realized less than a minute later that he felt drowsy. It was too drowsy for how pumped up on adrenaline he should have been. He knew what it was like being kidnapped or held hostage. It happened way too much, if you asked Geralt. Jaskier turned to see the woman smiling, perky in an unnatural way.
As Jaskier slumped against the wall, unable to mind the small spider crawling just a foot away, the woman crossed the room. She sat down on the bed next to him. She seemed sweet, but Jaskier though his drowsy state, knew it was all a trick.
Her face transformed just slightly– the whites of her eyes turned to a sickly yellow with her irises a bloody red. Her teeth became jagged like a brittle sword, but pointed like an icicle. Jaskier watched just over her shoulder to see a black wing behind her. The being had wings, he realized, and sharp claws and teeth. They were surely a vampire of some sort.
She soothed, “Don’t fight it.” She pulled down the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his shoulder. The shirt was something he borrowed from Geralt because his doublet was ruined on the last contract due to hugging the witcher when he came out of a Ghoul’s den.
Fangs pierced his shoulder. He could see the whites of her teeth sunken into his skin, yet he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t even scream. He felt paralyzed from head to toe. Jaskier’s head felt fainter by the second. Thankfully, she pulled away. Her wings resided into her back and her face turned to normal.
“You taste sweeter than a normal human does,” she commented. The woman sat up next to the bard, playing with his hair. “I wonder if you have elven blood or maybe dwarven. Humans are milder.”
They stayed like that for the night. She hummed, though it was more of a screech, and he tried not to fall asleep. He couldn’t, not with a vampire next to him. It could mean death.
Then, his finger twitched. His eyes lit up with excitement. The woman chuckled softly, continuing to hold him close. “You won’t leave this place alive,” she whispered.
“I know that,” he said softly, testing out his voice after hours of non-use. “I just… like to feel my limbs.”
“It’s strange the first time. All my past blood buddies said that getting used to it took days if not weeks. I need you calm. You understand?”
Jaskier agreed with a non-committed hum. He asked after a moment, “Why do you take a sacrifice?”
“I need blood to survive,” she stated. “Without it, I become weak. Eventually, I’d wither away. I’ve been in this cave for decades. The town wasn’t even here that long ago. They’re the ones that decided that sending a sacrifice every 3 years on the longest day of the year would please me.”
“Why every 3 years?”
She moved him pliantly so his head was on her chest. She continued to run her fingers in his hair. It made Jaskier think that the woman was lonely– that she just wanted company. In an odd way, she reminded him of Geralt that first week they met.
“By 3 years, my blood buddies want to leave even if we are friends. I won’t keep them any longer unless I can tell they mean it.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I had a girl named Maria that stayed with me for 9 years. We were good friends. She got sick in a terribly harsh winter and died.”
“Do most of the sacrifices survive?” He needed to know his chances.
“Only a few have died. In the beginning, I would lose control sometimes, or they’d run away foolishly. But most get to leave. They choose not to return to their homes. Wilma was the last sacrifice. She went to some city in the north. She didn’t want to go home to be expected to marry.”
Jaskier tried to think about it. If Geralt and Yennefer never found him, he could reach them in 3 years. It would skip any bloodshed. He knew that wasn’t the best option, but he couldn’t escape alive on his own.
She asked, “What do you do for a living, Jaskier?”
“Oh, uhm, I’m a bard,” he replied.
She perked up in happiness. “A bard, huh. So you sing and play, then?”
“A lute, yes.”
“I’ve never been friends with a musician before,” she said.
“Oh? You’re missing out, my dear. I am classically trained, I assure you. Any music you’ve heard before is simply not to my standards.”
“Hmm?”
Jaskier thought maybe they could become friends. He couldn’t make any long-lasting friendships with anyone but other bards, so maybe he could only be friends with non-humans. He thought about his trip to Nilfgaard which ended in bloody terror. He shook his head to get out of his thoughts.
She looked down to Jaskier with unbridled glee. She asked, “Do you think we could do duets–”
Jaskier felt a wave of Chaos push him off of the bed and onto the floor. When he looked up, Yennefer and Geralt were in the cave. He turned to the vampire to see a dagger in the middle of her forehead. He felt somberness roll over him. How was he mourning a person he only knew for a few hours?
Yennefer was at his side. She helped him up, her violet eyes scanning him for something he didn’t understand. After a few seconds, she told Geralt, “He’s drugged and bitten. Is there anything special about a Bruxa’s bite I need to worry about?”
Geralt looked up from where he was sawing off the head of the Bruxa. He answered, “Just infection. Does the bite look clean?”
Yennefer yanked Jaskier. She peeled down his sleeve to get a better look at the bite as Jaskier remained in shock. She confirmed, “Nothing seems wrong with it. I’ll start the healing process once we’re in town–”
“Start it now. The blood’s old, yes? He’ll scar if you leave it alone much longer.”
“He’ll fall asleep, Geralt,” said Yennefer. Geralt simply stared at her, a simple I-know passing through his eyes. “You’re the one carrying him to Roach.”
“Out of the cave isn’t a long walk,” he disregarded, wiping the blood off of his silver sword.
“Fine.”
Yennefer tapped Jaskier’s cheek. He looked at her in surprise, finding it hard to focus. When his eyes found their way to her violet ones, she started the healing process. After a moment, he started to feel dizzy. When he was just about to collapse, Geralt was behind him. He caught Jaskier in his arms, giving Yennefer an annoyed look.
“You could have waited,” said the witcher. He started to walk out of the cave after he slung Jaskier over his shoulder, the witch right beside him.
“It’s almost sunrise. I plan to get some sleep before our inn’s time is used up.”
He looked surprised. “We’re not staying another night?”
“This town will get rid of us. The bard’s not here to charm them up. You surely saw their shifty looks and heard their lies. They protected the Bruxa until you started threatening them.”
Geralt argued, “They were scared for their lives.”
“They don’t know that you’re the White Wolf, Geralt. You’re simply an emotionless mutant to them. It seemed this town was small enough to not get any bards.”
They reached the outside of the cave. They walked along the rocks to Roach. Geralt safely secured Jaskier onto the mare before guiding Roach along.
Geralt said, “We’ll leave in the morning, then, after collecting the payment.”
Yennefer walked next to him, arms crossed underneath her cloak. “It’s for the best.”
All voices died down as they continued their walk to town. It was odd without Jaskier talking. Geralt knew that, as he spent the past half a day searching for the bard. It seemed his life revolved around the human. He never expected anything like it. He glanced at Yennefer. She seemed calm but he could smell the waves of worry radiating from her.
“Do you have any plans after this?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. She eventually spoke, “I’m meeting a friend from the Brotherhood. If I need to, I can send you through a portal where it’s safe.”
“We’ll be fine, Yen. Worry about yourself first.” He thought back to how fast her heartbeat was when they realized that Jaskier was missing. “We’ll be fine.”
“We were only able to find them because I used a tracking spell, Geralt. What would have happened if I hadn’t been here? How many days would it take for you to track his scent to that musky cave?”
Geralt thought about it. Probably longer than Jaskier had in him. The bard wasn’t good at staying in one place for long. “We’ll be fine,” he repeated. Yennefer scoffed. Roach neighed. Jaskier slept.