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He's isn't even off the mountain when fucking BORCH pops out from behind a bush and collars him.
"You'd best travel with us a ways, son," he insists. "You need someone who understands what you're going through."
"He - he - all these years! And I - how COULD he! That BASTARD!"
"Aye lad, you've had a shock." Borch is guiding him somewhere, but Jaskier isn't paying attention.
"He didn't even want to COME on this stupid dragon hunt, but then that WITCH showed up and suddenly he had to join."
Teá and Veá trail them silently, their attention split between their surroundings and the ranting bard.
Borch leads Jaskier into a large grassy meadow, a wide stream burbling along one side. "Let it out, child. You'll feel better for it. And the spring's there if you get too hot."
The overheated feeling is back, worse than before, and Jaskier yanks at his clothes, for once not caring if something rips. Naked, he wades into the water and ducks under. As he rises, he scrubs his hands through his hair and screams in frustration.
Good. It feels...good.
He screams louder, throwing his head back and stretching out his arms.
His back pops, releasing tension he hadn't felt.
Another breath, deep as only a singer can. Another scream.
A - blast of fire.
It feels good. It feels right. Borch and his guards are watching silently.
Waiting.
Jaskier breaths like a bellows and roars, then stretches.
His head clears the trees. Talons dig into the pebbled stream bed. Wings unfurl and snap against the tree branches behind him.
Jaskier falls forward, catching himself on his...hands? No. Wrong word.
"Fuck EVERYTHING."
Vellentretenmerth steps forward, examining his new ward. "Tis not an easy thing, what's happening. But you'll get through it, young one. And we'll be here to help."
A month later, he debuts his new song. He puts more heat, more fire into "Burn Butcher Burn" than ever before.