Chapter Text
Being whisked beyond the veil and into the Gentry was quite a feeling. It was like being dunked in cold water after soaking for hours in a warm bath. In one word; unpleasant.
They stumble into it, going from sitting entangled to separated and standing. Jaskier is barely a few feet from his Lady while Geralt has been placed further in the hall, barely two yards away but here it feels like a mile.
“Dandelion My Flower I am so proud of you.” His Lady is smiling gently.
“Why-why are we here? You kicked me out.” He knows his voice is shaken. Their sudden removal from Kaer Morhen and into the Gentry has thrown him off, and his siblings and their staring is not helping.
His Lady smiles at him, pitying and sad. “Little Flower. You wanted to rid yourself of your feelings! To do that I need that which has inspired them. Just like I told you!”
Jaskier shakes his head. “You kicked me out. I asked to get rid of my feelings. You turned me into a fox and left me in the snow. That usually implies never come back, you’re kicked out. Not, stay right there I have a solution that involves kidnapping a Witcher.”
His lady sighs, her head tilting, “But I told you. Right before you left. Lead me to your Witcher-”
Something in the back of his mind tickles and he goes cold as he realises.
“-and I can make everything disappear. All your thoughts, all your memories-”
“All my emotions.” Jaskier finishes for her.
Jaskier shakes his head, firm. “I did not know. You did not tell me. You left me.”
His Lady sighs, “You should have known Little Flower. The Gentry lets none go easy. If you hadn’t come back I would have continued to let you play dead and we wouldn’t be here.”
Jaskier looks away, his eyes looking frantically at his gathered siblings as he thinks. She has to be wrong. She has to be lying. She had told him, but she hadn’t told him. She hadn’t let him remember.
She sighs and comes forward, her hands pressing into the sides of his face as she cradles him. “Be happy Little Flower, we will restore you.” She moves her hands from his cheeks and up into his hair. She smiles at him as she brushes through the soft strands, “We will make you forget all of the world you have seen.” He is frozen when she leans forward to kiss his cheek. “We will free you.” She presses harder and then lets his head go, hands falling to his shoulders and Jaskier can feel something has changed.
There is a familiar weight on his head and Jaskier knows. His Lady smiles at him before stepping around him, hands brushing his shoulders and there is a ripping sound, another weight as she circles him. Jaskier unconsciously stretches his back muscles, hating the familiar feeling of feathers ruffling as they settle across his back.
His Lady catches the motion and she stops in front of him, taking his hands and kissing them. Jaskier watches them lengthen and sharpen; familiar, ugly and completely incapable of playing any instrument. His Lady pulls away, and passes him, going to Geralt and leaving Jaskier alone.
Jaskier turns quickly, almost desperately. He wants to stand between them, but he can’t.
Geralt stays still, calm but tensed. He does not look at Jaskier, focused on the fae in front of him but Jaskier knows he would be disappointed. Jaskier has dragged him beyond the veil and into danger. Danger, Jaskier knows, Geralt can’t get them out of.
“Now Witcher.” His Lady starts, dismissive as she tilts her head to study him.
Geralt does not move, he keeps his eyes steady, making sure to meet her eyes every time.
She does not try to touch him, like she did Jaskier, but she does lean closer, just the tiniest bit, enough to really bother Geralt. “Oh it is a shame I can’t keep you.”
Geralt huffs sharply and she moves away with a laugh. “Smart boy, words here are used against you. Some of us still need to learn that.” She looks back at Jaskier and he only stares, scared but defiant. “I did say I’d make it all better, Flower. And I have, you just need to do your part.”
Jaskier shakes his head, a denial rising that quickly dies as she clicks her tongue at him.
“You were always the difficult one. Running away, coming back. That’s not how this works.”
She moves from Geralt and approaches him, “You knew the consequences of coming back, you knew it would taint you.” She passes him, and turns. “You knew you would have to be fixed if you wanted to stay.” A little laugh bubbles from her throat and she grins, teeth sharp, “And I told you how to fix it.”
Jaskier shakes his head, and his Lady sighs. “Little Flower you made your choice, I let you change your mind once. Not again.” She lets the silence sit before she turns back, looking to the doorways Jaskier knows leads to the cells and he sees the moment she has an idea.
“But I can’t expect you to be solid in your choice, with how much you change that mind of yours.” She hums, clicks her tongue and looks to one of Jaskier’s siblings.
“Perhaps a few extra days of consideration will remind you of where you belong.” His sibling moves forward, grabbing him and Jaskier tries to pull away, looking to his Lady and she narrows her eyes, “Into the cells, we’ll see if you keep your word in the morning.”
Jaskier shakes his head, a shout dying as he’s pulled away. Behind him Geralt has been grabbed as well, if the noises are anything to go by. Geralt doesn’t fight, but he’s audibly unhappy.
Geralt and him are thrown into a cell together and Jaskier hits the wall hard, a pain permeating through him. Geralt is simply pushed in, no real strength behind it so he barely stumbles. The door slams shut and Jaskier can hear his siblings move away, returning to the others while leaving the two of them alone.
Jaskier huffs, “Well that was-” he stops as he takes in Geralt’s expression. “Geralt?”
Geralt isn’t looking at him, eyes a little distant. “I can’t believe I trusted you.”
Jaskier swallows. “What-”
“It was all a ploy. Wasn’t it?”
Jaskier shakes his head, disbelieving. “Geralt you don’t really think-”
“You said it yourself.”
Jaskier huffs a breath, becoming desperate. “I didn’t know. I would have never stayed had I known. Geralt you have to know that.”
Geralt shakes his head, finally looking up. “That’s what she was talking about when she first got there wasn’t it?”
“I-I didn’t know.”
Geralt huffs, “You were just biding your time, weren’t you?”
Jaskier shakes his head, “Geralt you can’t mean-”
“Aiden was right.”
Jaskier stops.
“You’ve been using me this whole time.”
Jaskier shakes his head, wings tightening against his back, a self-conscious form of comfort. “I would never-”
“But you did! This was your plan. You weren’t even really stuck as a fox were you? You just wanted to rejoin your Lady. Thought tricking a Witcher would be a fun little ploy to impress them! And now you’re feeling guilty, because I decided to return your feelings.”
“Geralt.” Jaskier reaches forward but Geralt slaps his hand away harshly and turns.
“Don’t.”
Jaskier looks away. Did Geralt really think? “Geralt, I have never-”
“I said don’t.” Jaskier stops. “You’ll only lie.”
Jaskier scoffs, tears coming to his eyes. “Fae can’t lie-”
“Says the monster.”
Jaskier flinches back. “You don’t mean that.”
Geralt does not reply and Jaskier has gotten good at reading the silence.
He steps back again, hitting the wall in their small cell and he sits. Jaskier curls his wings closer and uses them to cover himself from Geralt’s view. His hands come up to wrap around himself and he pauses, looking at them for a long moment before huffing and closing his eyes tight. Geralt isn't wrong.
~~~~~~
When morning comes Jaskier hasn’t slept and if the lack of any noise from Geralt tells him anything, he hasn’t either.
“Geralt-” he starts.
“Don’t.”
Jaskier pauses. “I’m trying to tell you-”
“Stop calling me Geralt. Stop using my name.”
Jaskier looks up, wings unfurling to look at him. Geralt still stands, facing away from him. “What-”
“Stop using my name. It isn’t yours, fae.” There’s a bite to his tone.
Jaskier almost laughs, startled and scared, desperate to release the tension in the room. “Geralt, that’s just-”
“I said stop.”
Jaskier’s mouth clicks shut and he swallows. The silence sits and Jaskier hears the Kingdom awaken above him and he knows he’ll be sent for soon. Geralt won’t be helping him out with this one.
A few minutes pass and he hears the main door open. His siblings are soon in front of the cell and they give him a look. Jaskier unfurls himself and stands, looking at Geralt before he leaves.
“As you wish, Witcher.”
His Witcher’s eyes snap open and Jaskier turns, allowing his siblings to take him away without a fuss.
He’s dragged into the hall and his Lady lights up upon seeing him. “Flower! I know today we were going to check your decision but I just couldn’t cancel plans!” She motions around, and Jaskier looks. The hall is being decorated.
“I mean, I promised a celebration when you came back and I have to deliver!” Jaskier looks back, swallowing as his Lady grins. “So I had an idea. Since this is a celebration for your return you should be here, but-” she cuts herself off and frowns, “you’re being punished.”
Jaskier swallows.
“So, I thought, why not make this your punishment! You can attend your own party while getting a taste of what will happen if we don’t kill the Witcher.” She perks back up and motions to one of his siblings. “And, as a bonus-” Jaskier’s sibling comes forward with something in their hands and he recoils. “You can wear a little iron, just to make sure.”
Jaskier shakes his head and his Lady frowns. “It’s just a little iron, flower. Since you’re so strong and tough standing up for your Witcher and demanding things from me surely you can take a little bit of iron.”
Jaskier struggles, eyes wide and fearful as he tries to move away, resisting until the very moment they’re placed on him. When they hit his skin they burn and he suppresses a yell.
His Lady waits a moment, head tilted and when he doesn’t respond how she wanted she rolls her eyes, facade dropping before quickly being replaced with a smile. “You’ll be serving drinks tonight! Think of it as a taste of what your future could hold.”
Jaskiers eyes close as his siblings drop him and he struggles to his feet. He stands tall and waits, his Lady looks him up and down before clicking her tongue. “Be good today Little Flower. It wouldn’t do for the guest of honor to spill all the drinks."
Jaskier swallows and nods.
His Lady claps and the room fills, his siblings following her cue as they fill the hall. Jaskier moves forward, he’s no choice.
~~~~~~
As he serves Jaskier thinks, mind racing as he tries to find a way to get them out. Jaskier is grasping at broken ropes but there has to be something he can do. Then it comes to him.
“My Lady! Please, let us do the walking trial!” His yell silences the hall and all attention turns to him.
His Lady’s eyes are full of glee and he feels a pit settle in his stomach. “The walking trial you say?”
Jaskier nods desperately and the pit grows as she laughs.
“The walking trial? With him? Do you really think he’ll get you out Little Flower?”
Jaskier swallows and she continues. “Would he really want to help the fae he’s trained to kill? The monster that spirited him away and tricked him?” She clicks her tongue at him. “Be logical flower.”
Jaskier’s heart sinks and around him his siblings are chattering.
“The Witcher would doom them both just so he wouldn’t get out.” It’s hissed out and it fills the room quickly. His siblings laugh.
Jaskier looks down. They’re right. Of course they are. His Witcher would never let Jaskier follow him out, not even to save himself. Not to mention Jaskier is immortal, Geralt does not love him. A trial made for mortal lovers, is not made for them. They would fail immediately, and end up in worse conditions than they are now. Jaskier nods and steps back, his head hanging low as he returns to his tasks.
His siblings go back to ignoring him, and Jaskier continues serving the hall, his wrists burn and rub on the raw iron but he doesn’t complain or scream, even if he wants to. He just needs to endure. He needs to get his Witcher out.
~~~~~~
When Jaskier is placed in the cell that afternoon he immediately seeks out the form of his Witcher. He’s curled up, the only blanket in the cell curled around him and it makes Jaskier smile fondly before he looks down.
“We will be tried tomorrow, it will be decided what will happen to us.” Jaskier pauses, he needs to say something, his Witcher no doubt believes he’ll be killed and Jaskier can’t have that. “I promise I’ll get you out. I promise you Ger-” Jaskier cuts himself off and swallows. “I promise you, Witcher. No matter the cost you will be free again.”
His Witcher says nothing and Jaskier’s wings fall, he hadn’t expected a reply, but he'd certainly hoped for one. Jaskier turns to the corner he used last night and he curls himself into it, cheek pressed into the cold stones and he tries to imagine he is at the Keep, curled in front of the fire, but he can’t. He has no right.
~~~~~~
They come for them in the morning and Jaskier lets himself be dragged, it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s not getting out of this, if he can just get Geralt out he’ll be content with that. His Witcher can continue on, won’t even think of him with anything but scorn. He’ll turn into just another tragic story about Geralt letting anyone get close.
And that’s fine. He deserves it, that’s how this goes. He’s fae. A monster. Not to be trusted, and he had tricked Geralt. He’d returned after going through such lengths to make them think him dead. No matter the price he’ll pay, Geralt will be free.
When they’re dragged in front of the Gentry Jaskier can barely stand and his lady seems to notice. She gives him a raised eyebrow and a small smile as she addresses the both of them. She looks at Jaskier briefly before turning.
“What do you want, Witcher?” His Lady approaches his Witcher and strokes his cheek carefully. His Witcher does not move, can’t move, from the motion but Jaskier can tell from his eyes that he hates it. He glances at Jaskier before looking back.
“I wish to leave and return to where I was, as I was.”
His Lady clicks her tongue and hums. “You want nothing else? No one to be with you?”
“No.”
Jaskier’s eyes close. He’s doomed.
“Would you stay here Witcher? If you could be pampered and kept happily, free to go beyond the veil as long as you’ll return?”
“No.”
His Lady hums, satisfied. “You have a choice, little flower.” She turns from his Witcher to address him.
“I either kill the Witcher to free you from the burden of your feelings, or-” his Lady stops and laughs, “or you become my slave and remain burdened with them forever. You will no longer have your freedom.”
Jaskier glances at his Witcher who only glares at him, and Jaskier realizes he deserves this. He remembers the warnings he’d been given about asking favors from his Lady. He remembers being warned about ever coming back. No one ever came back, those that did were few and far between. By doing what no other would he became a rarity, and his Lady loved rare things. He brought this on himself and he can't blame anyone else. He can't drag anyone else into this.
His Witcher is still glaring at him and his siblings await his decision, indifferent to his feelings or what will happen to him. Jaskier already knows his choice, but he finds it difficult to say out loud, because once he does that’s it. He will no longer sing, no longer have any control over himself. His life will belong to his Lady and only his feelings will be his own, but they will be torturous.
Jaskier observes his Witcher one last time, ignoring and trying to replace his anger with one of the rare few moments of contentment Jaskier had seen, but he can not. Jaskier looks down, this will be the sweetest and most torturous of all punishments. The last sight he will see of his-no, never his, the Witcher is him in anger, but that is what he deserves.
“Let the Witcher go.” his voice is dull, defeated and his Lady clasps her hands together.
“I was hoping you’d say that!”
Jaskier’s gaze falls to the floor as he listens for the sound of the Witcher’s bonds releasing and for the footsteps, his Lady will no doubt amplify for him, of the Witcher leaving. But there is nothing.
“We’ll get to that tomorrow, though.” Jaskier looks up at her and she smiles at him, “I’m not cruel.” Jaskier couldn’t disagree more. “You can have one last night with him, I’ll even give you a real room!”
Jaskier slumps, no doubt the Witcher will use their time alone to yell at him for taking him away from Ciri if he was going to just let him go in the end. Jaskier walks complacently behind his siblings as they lead him away. He does not respond to their prodding and closes himself off as he is placed in a room with the Witcher.
When the door shuts he does not move, he waits. For a punch, for a yell. Something. There is a stutter of breath next to him and Jaskier flinches away. He backs himself into a corner of the room they’ve been given in an attempt not to be in the way so the Witcher can ignore him and stay comfortable without being burdened by his presence.
“Please, enjoy the room. If it’s in here you can’t be forced to stay by eating or drinking anything.” Jaskier pauses, realizes that sounds less than trustworthy and tries again, stuttering out as he keeps his eyes firmly on the ground, “Or sleep. You could sleep. My siblings will retrieve us in the morning-you, I mean. I will stay here if that makes you more comfortable when you leave. I’m sure my Lady will be eager to have me start so you needn’t worry about me being there tomorrow.”
Jaskier continues babbling in nervousness, not looking at him as he does his best to reassure the Witcher of his sincerity. “Although if I’m forced to be there you needn’t worry about me making a scene or anything. I won’t even speak. I am once again so sorry you I got you into this-”
~~~~~
There had been something wrong when the faerie made his choice. He’d expected his life to be ended, fulfilling what he’d been tricked here for; but, the faerie had let his gaze fall. Any strength and defiance being replaced with a grim acceptance. He looked like an animal before it was speared, prepared, unwilling, but ready and knowing. The faerie had given him his freedom, an exchange for his own, a choice no other would have made.
Geralt had wanted to rush forward, wanted to yell for the fool to stop, but he did not. He will be free, that is all that matters. When they are placed in the room Geralt can feel something has changed, a weight lifted from him and he looks to the fae-no, to Jaskier, his Bard.
He looks defeated, eyes drawn down and when Geralt takes a deeper breath, trying to clear the haze his Bard flinches. Jaskier is in a corner quicker than Geralt can keep up, babbling apology after apology. Promise after promise and Geralt’s heart breaks.
“Jaskier.” His Bard does not respond and Geralt swallows. Reaching forward. “Jaskier.”
His Bard flinches and curls into himself. Geralt pauses. His hand hovers and he pulls back. “Jaskier, I-”
His words die on his tongue and he feels his stomach drop. What has he done?
They sit there the whole night, neither moving and Geralt soon hears the kingdom awaken. There are footsteps outside and the door opens. Geralt glances over, the two fae that had dragged him earlier enter and nod at him. Geralt does not move and their eyes narrow.
In front of him Jaskier looks up briefly before moving his gaze back down and avoiding looking forward. His hands instead play with each other and he sniffs once.
“Thank you Witcher. For the twenty years. I wish I could give you these two days back.”
The two fae come forward and Geralt can’t move as he’s dragged to his feet and taken out. He looks back briefly. Jaskier stares after him, eyes avoiding his own and Geralt wants to scream, but it’s trapped within him. He tries to tell Jaskier he’ll get them out of this. Geralt has to, he can’t abandon him.
The door shuts.
Geralt blinks
~~~~~~
“Geralt!”
Geralt’s eyes blink open and he is staring at a stone ceiling. A pained groan comes from him and a face appears above him. As his vision unblurs he recognizes Ciri and he tries to sit up, a hand on his chest stopping him.
“Don’t get up. If you undo my work I’ll be quite cross with you.”
“Yen.” He breathes out and Yen appears above him, a frown marring her features.
“Well you can recognize voices, that’s something at least.”
Geralt groans again and Ciri moves away, replaced with Vesemir who raises an eyebrow at him.
“Finally awake?”
Geralt nods his head slowly, still squinting and Vesemir grunts.
“Good.” Vesemir gives him one rough pat and looks him in the eyes. “Don’t get drunk with Lambert and his bombs ever again.”
Geralt nods and Vesemir leaves. He looks to Yen.
“No actual perfume bomb?”
Yen snorts, “If it had only been perfume we wouldn’t be here.”
Geralt snorts, making his breath catch and he winces as his head throbs.
Yen rolls her eyes. “I’ll be back in a minute, don’t try to move. I’ll get something for that pain."
Geralt nods, still a bit disoriented as Yen leaves. He stares at the ceiling.
There’s something missing.