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Jaskier woke to a violent shake. He felt himself moving up, his legs feeling like jelly as he was strung to a standing position. He swayed as his eyes rolled and rolled to get a look at his surroundings. He couldn’t tell where he was due to everything being a blur. He thought he saw a tree above him but it could have also been a tall man.
Jaskier heard a man mutter, “Why the fuck is the boy worth anything?”
“He’s the Witcher’s Bard. They aren’t seen once the snowfall hits. We can extract information about their weaknesses for at least 3 months,” replied a woman.
Jaskier groaned before bending over to vomit. He felt a rough hand yank him to the side. “He’s not worth it,” said the man.
“He will be once I get him to a mage. I hired one from Nilfgaard– they’re very good at their jobs.”
“And then what? We kill the witchers?”
The woman scoffed. “Then I tell a person in power looking for more war about the witcher’s weaknesses.”
“Fuckin’ hell.”
Jaskier wasn’t sure how he ended up in the hands of the pair. He remembered Geralt and him traveling to Kaedwen together before saying goodbye at the base of the mountain where Geralt’s home was. He was sure that he was trying to travel to Oxenfurt. He clearly didn’t make it, though.
Jaskier’s vision didn’t get better as he felt himself be thrown down. At first he thought he was simply put on the ground, but then he heard the metal squeaks. He felt around quickly and figured out he was in a cage. His heart sped up and his fear spiked. If what his captors were saying was the truth, then he didn’t have a happy ending ahead.
As Jaskier tried to calm down, he heard the man laugh around him. Jaskier couldn’t help the whimper that left his mouth. He quickly covered it up by taking a few slow breaths. He needed to calm down and figure a way out of his cage. He felt his feet hoping that his boots would have something in them but instead discovered he was barefoot.
The cage moved across the floor of the woods slowly. Jaskier heard his captors fight with one another and debate what to do, but he kept quiet. He needed to be calm and not freak out too much. He didn’t have someone like Geralt around that would be looking for him.
Jaskier then decided to keep a rhythm. He liked songs. He hummed to the Griffin’s Girlish Demise, about Coën and the Striga, so finding a good rhythm would be good. He tapped his foot with his finger and calmed down. He was sure he still radiated fear, though. He didn’t remember ever being so afraid before.
That turned out to be a good thing. One moment, Jaskier heard the greetings of, “You took something that does not belong to you,” and the next he heard a scream.
Jaskier peered out of his cage. His vision was still blurry, but whatever he was drugged with was lessening just slightly. He could make out shapes, now, and determined that a very odd-looking bear was eating his captors. Jaskier supposed he was safe inside his cage so he stayed silent.
Jaskier did not expect for the bear to start looking more familiar, or for the bear to drop down to the cage, mess with the lock, get agitated, and tear it right off. Jaskier tried hard to focus on the bear, who he was now assuming was a man, but all he could see was fuzzy mishapen blobs.
“Jaskier,” greeted a familiar voice. “Jaskier, can you hear me?”
“Uh… Eskel?”
“Ah, so you remember me.” Eskel reached out his hand. Jaskier took it, though it looked more like a tree branch to him. Eskel got Jaskier out of the cage and dusted the human off. “You got into more trouble than you could wiggle yourself out of, it looks like.”
Jaskier paused. He had a sentence at the tip of his tongue – a remark that would surely be beautiful – but couldn’t remember it. Instead, he drawled out, “Drugged. I think they drugged me.”
Eskel patted him on the back as they walked over through the trees. The snow became more real as his bare feet squished across it. Jaskier looked down only to see mixed blurs of color.
Eskel said soothingly, “Yeah. I can smell it. It’s very strong.” He helped Jaskier to a small stack of belongings. “Let’s get your boots and cloak on.”
Jaskier was sure he muttered, “Oh, that’s why it’s so cold,” as Eskel helped him into his cloak.
“You’re really out of it, bard,” remarked Eskel, concern and amusement in his tone.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing. Just… can you get onto this horse?”
Jaskier stared at the chestnut blob in front of him. He whispered, “That’s a horse?” Eskel confirmed it quickly. “Then yeah.” He then flopped himself against the horse.
“You… this is not going to work out, is it?”
Eskel sat Jaskier down onto a log. Jaskier happily hummed a tune to the chestnut horse– the one that was going to drag him through the forest if Eskel didn’t rescue him. He was through a rendition of Cherries and Chestnuts, a small song about a beautiful horse, when Eskel returned with Scorpion.
The witcher had a small device in his hand and was speaking to it. “Triss, are you there? Triss, I really need you right now.”
After a small crackling sound, a woman’s voice replied, “Eskel? Are you injured? I can be there in a minute.”
“I need a portal.”
“Oh. I can do that.”
Eskel put the small device away. Jaskier continued to sing to the horse about how lovely they were. Eskel started to hum along as he got a feel for the tune. Jaskier beamed at the witcher with wide blue eyes. Eskel tried not to smile too wide.
Then, abruptly to their left, a portal opened. A few moments later Triss Merigold entered. She greeted Eskel, “It’s been a few months. Anything new?”
“I saw a Green Dragon,” said Eskel. He patted Jaskier on the shoulder before moving closer towards the mage.
“Ooo, a dragon,” she awed. “You didn’t kill them, did you?”
“They weren’t causing trouble. I was dealing with some Fleder nearby when I found them. They’re beautiful creatures. I wouldn’t want to hunt them.”
Jaskier chose that moment to ask, “Are Gold Dragons real?” He didn’t look up to Triss or Eskel. His eyes were focused on the chestnut-colored horse.
Eskel patted Jaskier’s shoulder. He gave Triss a look, to which she returned. Eskel explained, “He saved my life a couple of years ago. I just saved him from, uh, being captured. He’s drugged out of his mind, though. I think he’s almost through it, but I can’t reach Kaer Morhen with a human in this state.”
“What’s his name?” she asked. Triss bent down to get a better look at the drugged bard. “He looks fancy.”
“He’s a bard.”
“That explains the lute,” she remarked. The lute and Jaskier’s bag were next to the chestnut horse. She stood up and turned to Eskel. “How far away from the keep?”
“Only a little ways out. You’re welcome to join us. We might need you if he gets injured.”
Triss chuckled softly as she opened a portal. “I can stay for a few days. My schedule is wide open.”
Eskel helped lead Jaskier to the portal. The bard seemed agitated. Eskel paused, as Jaskier was usually easy-going. “What’s wrong?”
“Cherry comes with us,” determined the bard. His eyesight was on the chestnut-colored horse.
Eskel couldn’t help but snort. He easily said, “Sure.”
Jaskier grinned then went through the portal. Eskel stayed back. He saddled up Cherry with Jaskier’s bag and lute, then led the horse through the portal. Following that, he got Scorpion and didn’t look back at the bodies laying just a few feet away from an empty cage. Neither did Triss as she went through and closed the portal.
Jaskier squinted at the whiteness around him. He petted Cherry’s mane and hummed his song Cherries and Chestnuts as he walked around. Eskel couldn’t help but smile at the bard’s antics, and he saw that Triss wasn’t any better.
She asked, “How did he save your life?”
“A cult tried to sacrifice me to a monster.”
“Really?” she gasped. “That’s never come up before. I feel like that’s something you’d bring up.”
Eskel shrugged. “I went back with a group of us so we could take it out for good. Even Vesemir looked at it and couldn’t determine what it was.”
“Wow. A newly discovered creature. How quaint.”
Eskel chuckled at her sarcastic tone. “How have you been, Triss? Any odd magical discoveries?”
“No, nothing quite so shocking. It’s been quiet lately. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.”
“You could always become a hedge witch. Buy a cottage and heal the community.”
Triss chuckled. “That’s not the life for me, I believe.”
Jaskier chose that moment to discover it was snowing. He stuck out his tongue and hopped up and down. The witcher and witch stared at the scene in bafflement. Jaskier shouted, “Did you know it was snowing!?” He previously wasn’t able to see the small snowflakes in the air.
Eskel didn’t reply, as the bard then flopped down to the ground. He was worried for a moment he underestimated the drugs the bard was given, but then Jaskier flopped his arms and legs around. He was making a snow angel. Triss chuckled at the sight, muttering about excitable, young humans.
Jaskier stood up and brushed snow off of his shoulders as if nothing ever happened. He took Cherry by the reins and guided the horse through the snow.
“You definitely wouldn’t have made it up the path with him like this,” commented Triss.
Half an hour later, going at a slow pace through the snowy landscape, Kaer Morhen stood before them. Jaskier pointed and ranted about the castle for five straight minutes once he saw it. Eskel’s mouth twitched into a half-smile while Triss didn’t hide her amusement.
They marched up to the keep some time later. Triss prepared to be inspected. Jaskier, she saw, looked very excited. He bounced on his feet as he muttered a song about a ghostly keep where animals sought sanctuary. She wondered if the bard knew how true that song was.
The door to the keep creaked open. Eskel waved to Lambert. He wanted to hug him, but Eskel kept his ground so that the proper inspections could happen. Lambert took out a silver dagger. Triss held out her arm. Lambert set it down. The silver did no harm. He moved on to Jaskier. Lambert raised a brow towards Eskel.
“You chose to bring Merigold and a random human?” asked Lambert, his tone very disapproving.
Eskel didn’t reply to his brother. He instructed Jaskier, “Hold out your hands.”
Jaskier did as instructed. Lambert laid the silver dagger across Jaskier’s hand. The bard said, “Ow!” All of the trio paused, ready for a fight. “Just kidding.” Lambert’s hand shook with a strong, guttural emotion. Jaskier laughed, then reached for Lambert’s hair. Lambert batted Jaskier’s hand away. Triss let out an unseemly snort while Eskel promised himself not to laugh.
“What the fuck did you drag in?” muttered Lambert.
“A friend,” replied Eskel. He guided Scorpion inside. He then took Cherry’s reins as well. “I’ll be in the stable. Can you make sure they get situated?”
Lambert frowned at Triss and Jaskier. He grunted as he guided them to a hall of empty rooms. Jaskier was dropped off first. He basically passed out on the bed. Lambert stared at the human in slight horror.
Triss explained to Lambert, “He was drugged.”
“Yeah, ‘cause that explains everything,” he scoffed
—
Jaskier woke to a cold room. His brain felt very fuzzy, but the longer he stared at the ceiling the more his thoughts and memories became clear. He remembered Eskel and then Eskel called someone over– a mage of some sort. Jaskier blearily recalled a large castle amongst the snow.
It hit him. He was in Kaer Morhen.
Jaskier sprang up. He shuffled around to find his lute and bag made it into his make-shift room. He changed out of his snowy boots and into a thick pair of wool socks. He then set down his cloak, which had previously been tightly around him, and changed into a thick jacket that he got on sale from a merchant in Redania.
Jaskier then took his chance and opened his door. He popped his head out to find no one in the hallway. He tugged his jacket sleeves down so his hands could keep warm as he wandered around. The keep was much larger than he remembered Geralt talking about. Geralt gave the impression that it was some shack in the middle of the woods– not some large stone estate.
Jaskier ended up in the kitchen. He supposed he always managed to find where the food was. It was a necessity to his survival, after all. He took a pear and continued on. He wasn’t very hungry, simply a bit peckish.
He found the top of the keep an hour later. It took a lot of stairs to make it there. The scenery was gorgeous. Jaskier saw the snowy tops. It was as if the keep was all alone with nothing wrong able to touch it. He hummed softly as he looked at the landscape.
He almost fell off the building when a hand touched his shoulder. He was pulled back from the edge by the man who was there. Jaskier already said thank you, but stopped anything more when he saw who it was.
“You!” he accused.
“Me,” confirmed the man.
“You suck!” exclaimed Jaskier, pointing at the man who ruined it all for him. The man just handed him a cup of tea. “I trusted you,” he said in a softer tone as he took the tea.
“That was your first wrong move.”
Jaskier pouted as he looked out to the snowy scenery. However, the tea was very good and the warm liquid made him no longer feel that cold. “I still don’t like you,” he whispered.
“That’s fine, boy.”
Jaskier groaned. “I am 25, Vesemir! I am no longer a boy.”
Vesemir gave him a look of sure-you-are. “You’ll always be a boy to me, Julian.”
The bard looked down into the swirling tea mug. He said, “It’s Jaskier now, Vesemir.”
“You’ll always be a boy to me, Jaskier.”
Jaskier stood up with a grin. His grin faltered when he asked, “You don’t mind me staying here, do you?”
“Eskel vouched for you. He knows who to trust, so I’ll trust you.” Vesemir took a sip of his own tea. “I didn’t realize you became friends with my pups.”
“If it’s any constellation, I’ve never heard of or seen Lambert until today. I think Geralt mentioned a prickly brother of his, but definitely not the name of who it was.”
“You know Geralt too?” mumbled Vesemir.
Jaskier swished his head towards the witcher. “He didn’t tell you?” Jaskier wasn’t sure whether to be hurt or not.
“Tell me what?”
“I’m Jaskier… the bard. Do you seriously not know who I am?”
“I know you’re a pain in my ass–”
“Toss a coin to your Witcher, oh valley of plenty,” sing-sang Jaskier.
Vesemir stared at Jaskier in horror. “No,” he said in a shocked voice. “It– no. You’re not… you’re Geralt’s bard?” Jaskier was pretty sure the old witcher went through the 5 stages of grief in 10 seconds. “You always find trouble.”
“Trouble finds me, Vesemir,” argued Jaskier. He glugged the rest of his tea. “Why is the keep so quiet?”
Vesemir was happy for the change in conversation. “Lambert and Eskel are hunting, and I believe Triss is sleeping. It was mid-day when you crashed out. It’s early morning now.”
“No wonder it’s beautiful.”
Vesemir hmmed his agreement. They slowly made their way back to the kitchen. Jaskier almost slipped down the stairs but was thankfully caught by the witcher. The bard grinned sheepishly as he continued down at a slower pace. Vesemir had to save him when Jaskier tripped over a stone that was placed just above the rest of them.
“You embody trouble,” muttered Vesemir.
“Oh, now you’re just being mean.”
Lambert and Eskel found them drinking tea an hour later. Eskel never recalled Vesemir being a tea drinker, so it was very odd to see the older man do it so easily. Lambert, on the other hand, laughed as he watched Vesemir pour the kettle out to refill his cup.
Once Lambert was done laughing, Vesemir said, “What did you catch?”
“A deer!” announced Lambert. “There’s a whole little herd around the stream.”
Eskel added, “There’s only a few bucks left.”
Vesemir grunted. He gestured to the open seats. “Are you going to sit down?”
“You’re not… we’re not doing chores?” questioned Lambert. It clearly disoriented him as Eskel helped him sit down.
Vesemir announced, “None of the walls are bad this year. Our yearly maintenance has made it more sustainable. The only worry is a tower in the East wing. It’s cracking apart. Luckily for you two, it can wait until more help arrives.”
“Did you go soft?”
Vesemir huffed. “You can go run laps if you’d like–”
“Nope. This is fine.” Lambert gestured to the tea kettle. “Can I have some?”
“It’s not for you,” said Vesemir. “It’s supposed to soothe humans. Seeing as Jaskier was drugged yesterday, I assumed it would be good to serve it up.”
Jaskier looked over his mug with beady eyes. “You suck.”
Vesemir chuckled. Lambert and Eskel watched in terror as Jaskier then huffed out a laugh. Vesemir simply poured the bard more tea and let it go as if he wasn’t just insulted. Lambert gave Eskel a look, but Eskel couldn’t respond. He didn’t know what was happening either.
Triss then wandered in. She caught a whiff of the tea. “Is that lavender?” she questioned aloud. She sat next to Jaskier. The bard took Vesemir’s mug and poured Triss a cup. She took a sip, then awed, “This is great for sore throats and colds.”
Jaskier said, “I think there’s peppermint in it too.”
“Huh,” mused Triss. She continued to sip on it sporadically. She then said to the bard, “I’m Triss Merigold.”
“Jaskier,” he introduced himself.
“Jaskier?” she repeated. Triss had heard that name before. The memory came to her quickly. “Jaskier the bard?”
“Uh… yes.”
“Fuck. Do you know a Yennefer of Vengerburg?”
Jaskier sat up, his curiosity spiking. “You know Yennefer as well?” He didn’t know much about her friends or life until a few years ago. He was always ready for more information on his frenemy.
“I’m a part of the Brotherhood, of course I know Yennefer.”
Jaskier sat back in his seat. He refilled his tea mug forcefully.
Eskel inquired, “Who is this Yennefer?”
“She’s a mage,” answered Triss. “Very cunning and smart. She’s going to go to great places one day. She’s not currently stationed anywhere, but she’s an asset to whoever holds her loyalty.”
Vesemir spoke, “Does this mage specialize in healing like you?”
“Oh, no, she’s quite into battle magic as far as I’m aware.”
“How do you know the mage?” asked Eskel. He was curious to know if Jaskier saved more than just his life.
“She’s a thorn,” stated Jaskier. Triss bristled. He soothed, “I mean that in the kindest of ways. We ran into one another a couple of years ago and ever since then we just keep running into one another. I didn’t like her at first due to her first impression.”
“What happened?” asked Lambert, ready for some excitement in the keep.
Jaskier grinned, ready to happily tell a story. “She wanted more power, right, so she tried to–”
A loud knock resounded through the keep.
Vesemir said to Eskel, “Go let him in.” Eskel didn’t need any prompting. He jumped out of his seat and went to welcome the new arrivals.
Triss asked Jaskier so he could finish, “So, how did you meet Yennefer?”
“Oh, she was attempting to, like, consume a djinn’s powers,” replied the bard. Triss’s eyes widened in surprise. “It did not work out at all.”
“Things like that never do.”
“A djinn– like the wish granters?” asked Lambert. “Are they powerful?”
“Very,” confirmed Triss. “Yennefer’s body wouldn’t have been able to handle that amount of power. It’s good it didn’t succeed. Tissaia surely told Yennefer how dangerous those magics are.”
Lambert turned around at the sound of the approaching steps. They were quick for just a stroll to the hall. Eskel arrived after the newest arrival, patting the other witcher on the shoulder.
“Jaskier?” questioned the man, voice full of confusion. He let the bag he was holding drop to the ground.
“Coën!” Jaskier stood up and gestured for the Griffin witcher to come sit by him. “How are you, my dear?”
Vesemir groaned into his hands.
Lambert whistled then commented, “Wow, the bard gets around.”