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Jaskier wished, for just one fucking time in his life, he didn’t come across trouble. It wasn’t even his fault. He walked into the inn hoping for a warm bed and bath before meeting up with Geralt at the base of the mountain. He did not expect to see a robbery going on. He quickly set down his lute and bag. He couldn’t get injured– not right before wintering at Kaer Morhen for the second time. He was going to go there himself instead of Eskel having to call Triss because he was too out of his mind to think straight, let alone follow a trail safely.
The thieves held strange, long weapons that reminded Jaksier of what grim reapers had in fairy tales. It was then that Jaskier realized the thieves were carrying scythes as their weapons instead of swords and foul-smelling bombs like everyone else.
The bard held up his hands in an attempt to look defenseless. He hoped they wouldn’t open his lute case and find his money sack in there. He wasn't a fighter, but he also didn’t want to be out of all of his money. He saved up in order to buy supplies for Kaer Morhen. They severely lacked sweets and snacks with flavour the last time he was there.
The thieves quickly rooted around his pockets and bag, finding only a few coins. They moved on quickly, dismissing Jaskier as a poor bard. Jaskier made contact with the innkeeper, who looked very mad, sad, and tired all at the same time. They waited in silence as the thieves stole from the rest of the rooms of the inn before frightening them one last time with their piss-awful weapons.
Once they were gone, Jaskier let out a breath of relief. The innkeeper got their bearings, having been stripped of all of their coin.
Jaskier walked up, prepared to get his money out, but paused when the innkeeper swatted in the air. The woman said, “You can have a room of no charge, bard. Those shitlings come every year. I’ve started to store my coin elsewhere around this time of year because of them.”
“You are too kind, madam,” he swore.
“It’s for the best.” The innkeeper caught his gaze. “You look tired, kid. What’s a bard like you doing around here? We’ve got a family of musicians so no one’s looking for new entertainers. You won’t find a job along these parts.”
“Oh, uhm, I’m staying with my partner’s family for the winter.”
She showed a small smile. “I remember those days. So young, you are. Is this your first time meeting the family? I couldn’t sleep at all for days before I met my husband’s family for the first time.”
“No, actually. I kind of ran into them in passing first, then we all had a weird get-together about 2 years ago.”
“Then you should rest well tonight, bard. Breakfast is served bright and early in the morning. Be there or you won’t find a hot meal until noon.”
Jaskier bowed as thanks before taking a room.
He should have gone to bed. Jaskier had a great big day tomorrow– with the whole shopping for winter, meeting up with Geralt, and starting up the trail. However, he heard a knock on his door just after he finished getting dressed. The warm bath was nice, but Geralt always made their baths hot with Igni. He supposed he was getting too pampered by the witcher.
Jaskier opened the door to see Aiden. The witcher had a new scar running along his jaw, though it was thin and healed. Other than that, it was only the armor that made him stand out as a Cat and not a Wolf. Well, that and the differing medallions.
Jaskier beamed at Aiden. “How are you, dear?”
“You smell just as I remember,” noted Aiden. “I’m fine, bard. How are you?”
“I’m divine. I didn’t think you’d come around these parts.”
“Oh, well, actually–”
Aiden cocked his head to the side to get a look down the hallway abruptly. Jaskier peeped his head out of his room to see Lambert. The Wolf witcher immediately narrowed his eyes at the bard, though the bard seemed irresistibly giddy.
Ignoring Jaskier, Lambert talked to Aiden. “We have a contract. How long has it been since you’ve encountered a Koshchey?”
Aiden humored Lambert, for now. “The last time I went against that gigantic spider I had Gaetan for backup. I may be able to take one of them on my own now, but I’m guessing you want to pair up.”
“You’d be correct, you fuck. I haven’t seen a Koshchey since I was starting off. This will be a great time to see if I can beat those shitsters now that I have more experience.”
From the side, Jaskier asked gleefully, “What’s a Koshchey?”
Lambert frowned when Aiden took the contract paper from him. The Cat witcher handed it to Jaskier. The bard quickly read it over, discovering a Koshchey was an incredibly large spider-crab thing that had to be created through magic. It made the beast incredibly hard to kill. Plus there was the looming threat of the mage who created the Koshchey to appear and try to kill the creature’s attacker as well.
“This looks awesome,” announced the bard.
Lambert took one look at Jaskier and said, “No.”
Aiden knocked his elbow into the Wolf witcher. “C’mon, Lamb. When was the last time you let a human come along with you on a quest?”
“Never. Humans shouldn’t be on contracts. They’ll die.”
Jaskier interrupted, “I haven’t died yet. I’ve traveled with Geralt since I was 18.”
Lambert scanned Jaskier for signs of age. “What are you, 20?”
“I am 27, my good sir!”
“So almost a decade of traveling together, then.”
Jaskier puffed out his chest in pride. “I’ve only been injured a few times.” The witchers smelt his lie. Aiden gave a particular disbelieving look. “Okay, so I’ve been on the brink of death a time or two. Honestly, it’s not a big deal. You two shouldn’t fuss. It’ll be as if I wasn’t there.”
“You can’t go 5 minutes without making noise, bard,” said Lambert.
“I take that as a compliment, dearest.”
Lambert wrinkled his nose while Aiden suggested, “You can travel with us to the Koshchey’s den, but if we say it’s unsafe then you have to stay put.”
“Sure,” agreed the bard. He quickly shut the door and went to pack his things for the trip.
Lambert turned a scandalized gaze to Aiden. “You did not just invite Geralt’s bard along.”
“Just a moment ago you were complimenting what the bard has done for the witcher populous, Lamb.”
“That was before the fucking bard turned his curiosity on us. Melitele fuck, Aiden. When did you know the bard? I’ve talked about him for the past year and a half but you’ve never brought up how you know him.”
Aiden didn’t answer, instead he simply shrugged.
Jaskier exited the room with his boots and a cloak on. The witchers smelt his excitement– it was hard not to. The bard announced, “Lead the way!” Lambert gave Aiden one last annoyed look before leaving the inn.
The walk through the dark was scary, but Jaskier felt fairly confident that the witchers wouldn’t let him injure himself too much. He had already tripped once and been caught by Aiden– that gorgeous man was very stunningly heroic. The walk didn’t take that long, though it did make the bard wonder if either of the witchers had a horse. He decided not to think about it and moved on. He didn’t want to wonder if Cherry the chestnut-colored horse was alive or not. He could still recall the morning at Kaer Morhen when Lambert claimed Cherry as his new mare and set off down the mountain.
Within an hour, they reached what looked like a cave in a thicket. The bushes were thick, covering the opening to it. Jaskier thought it looked incredibly eerie, but perhaps that was simply because he couldn’t see.
Aiden said, “Stay here, bard.” His hand patted Jaskier down, as if that would make the bard listen.
Then Lambert murmured, “That fucker’s heartbeat is fast. It’s definitely not asleep– it's excited for new prey.”
Aiden hummed in agreement before going past the bushes and into the cave. Lambert followed without a second thought. They only had to travel a little ways into the cave before being met face to face with a Koshchey. The arachnid-crustacean hybrid was a formidable foe with large legs that could move at speeds the human eye couldn’t track.
Jaskier, meanwhile, felt chilly. He tightened his cloak around himself in hopes of not feeling like something had gone terribly wrong. His cloak did nothing to abide the horrible, gut-clenching feeling the bard had. He looked up to the sky to see small little lights floating around. It was mellow and peaceful for just a moment before Jaskier heard an odd rustle above.
Jaskier froze as his eyes scanned above the trees. He couldn’t see much of anything in the dark, but the trees almost seemed larger than before. That wouldn’t have made sense to a normal traveler– they’d write it off as not paying attention to their surroundings. Jaskier wasn’t like other travelers. He had been by Geralt’s side for years and knew that his gut instincts were 99% right when it came to his danger sense.
Jaskier slowly backed away. He wanted to run, but remembered that Geralt always looked disapproving when he did. Apparently running attracted a monster to the victim even more. He kept backing away, almost obscenely optimistic that the trees looking odd wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe his sense of danger was off this time.
And then a tree branch fell. Jaskier yelped as the leg of a Koshchey patted down on the crisp winter snow. His brain ran miles and miles, faster than anything had ever gone before. His thoughts came to a halt as the clear fact that there was more than one Koshchey in the forest. The large legs of the Koshchey thundered through the trees from its perch.
Just as one of the eight legs was about to skew Jaskier through, a glint in the moonlight caught the bard’s eye. For a split-second, Jaskier thought that the thieves from earlier were in the woods. The scythe cut through the Koshchey’s pincher as if it was butter. Jaskier traveled up the scythe’s handle, only to be met with the familiar color of long, white hair.
“Geralt,” he gasped out.
The White Wolf grunted towards Jaskier before running at the Koshchey. Jaskier couldn’t see, but he heard the noises of a blade slicing through shell. The bard walked over to the cave that Lambert and Aiden disappeared into. He heard one of them yell about, “Fuckin’ show off.” Then, Lambert was running past Jaskier and joining Geralt.
Aiden walked out slowly. He noticed Jaskier was looking around, clueless at how the fight was going. Aiden took Jaskier’s arm in his, just like the bard did the first time they met. The Cat witcher instantly felt Jaskier turn to jelly, the tension leaving the bard immediately without questioning who grabbed his arm.
Aiden said, “They’re just about done.”
“So the Koshcheck is going down,” grinned Jaskier.
“Koshchey,” corrected Aiden. “And yes. Any second now…”
A sick, gut-spilling sound echoed in the air. Jaskier felt himself smile as the fight ended.
Lambert’s voice, sounding annoyed, said, “What the fuck are you doing over here?”
Geralt grunted. “Thieves.”
“Is that where you got that god-awful weapon from? Who fucking fights with a scythe? It’s impractical.”
“Hmm.”
Jaskier saw two shadowy figures appear in front of him. Both seemed annoyed at life.
“You lovelies are wonderful,” commented Jaskier.
Geralt seemed to stand taller at the praise, as he was used to the bard’s tactics. Lambert, meanwhile, hadn’t been in contact with the bard for a while. He prickled immediately. His arms folded in front of him like a shield.
“Oi, what the fuck, bard?” demanded Lambert.
Geralt was about to elbow his youngest brother, but Aiden was faster. The Cat witcher pulled Lambert to him. Lambert calmed down but still sent a narrow, unappeased glare to Jaskier. Aiden huffed at the antics.
“We should travel up the mountain together,” said Aiden.
Geralt agreed with a hum while Jaskier beamed. Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm and suction-cupped their bodies together. “That would be very nice. Aiden has my vote, Geralt!” The bard then paused. “Why are you covered in blood?” He looked down at his hand in the darkness to see red.
“Thieves,” said Geralt.
“Oh. I forgot.” Jaskier wiped his bloodied hand on Geralt’s black shirt. “Did they try to fight you?”
“They underestimated me since I didn’t have my weapons or Roach.”
“Ah. Not very smart then, were they?”
“Stupid fuckers,” muttered Lambert. He glanced at Aiden. “You’re not going to let me get out of this, are you?”
“Travel buddies,” whispered Aiden in a sing-song voice to purposely annoy Lambert. “We’ll all be travel buddies.”
“Fuckin’ hell. I didn’t sign up for this shit.”
“None of us did. You’re stuck with it now, though.”
To say the least, Jaskier had a great time annoying Lambert as they went up the mountain. He hadn’t had someone respond that loudly to him in years– he had become too well known in courts and in bard circles for anyone to be outright rude to him. Plus, Geralt wouldn’t let Lambert touch him when the young witcher got frustrated. Jaskier got to be as annoying as his heart wanted. It was invigorating for the bard.