Chapter 10 – Unbearably cold and empty

A/N: As usual, I'm incredibly grateful to my wonderful beta-reader, startswithf! And thanks for the kind reviews, it's so good to know that many readers follow this story - I didn't forget the update, here's the next chapter. :)

Geralt returned to the camp with the first rays of the morning sun. Lily Rose was already awake and busy tidying up the camp. Jaskier was blinking sleepily, trying to push himself up on his elbow when Geralt approached them.

"Where have you been?" the bard asked, his voice still hoarse from sleeping. Despite his dishevelled appearance, Jaskier was in much better shape now. The chamomile salve and the painkilling potion must have helped.

"I was keeping watch," Geralt said. He sat on a trunk and concentrated on skewering the fish, carefully avoiding both Jaskier's and Lily Rose's gaze. He was beginning to realize just how torturous the journey to Kaer Morhen was going to be.

"Can I help?" asked Jaskier, scooting closer already.

"Hm."

Jaskier grabbed a fish and tried to force it on the skewer, with rather disappointing results.

"You know, I was thinking-"

Jaskier was interrupted by a shushing voice.

'Geralt! Can you hear me?'

"What was that?" Lily Rose jerked her head in the direction of the voice, alarmed.

'Geralt, are you there? Jaskier?'

Now that all of them were silent, the voice could be heard much clearer. It came from Geralt's bag.

"Oh," Geralt said, as realization dawned on him. He got up with unexpected grace for his size and strode to the saddlebag. He rummaged shortly then fished out the slightly glowing xenovox.

"Yen," he said. "I'm here. What happened?" he asked, suddenly alarmed.

'Oh, thank the gods,' Yennefer sighed. 'It's nothing, we just…'

Then another voice rang through the small device. 'Are you alright?' asked Ciri.

"We're fine, don't worry," said Geralt with a fond smile.

'Sorry, I know we said that we would reach out only if anything bad happens, but I was worried. It's been four days. Is Jaskier okay, too? Did you succeed?' asked Ciri.

"Yes, we did. Florian's mother is with us. We're on our way to Kaer Morhen. And Jaskier is..." Geralt glanced at the bard, who set down the battered fish and stepped closer on wobbly legs. Geralt decided he wouldn't lie. "Jaskier has been injured."

'What?'

"But I'm all right, you needn't worry, Princess," Jaskier interjected. Geralt shot a murderous glance at him.

'How bad?' asked Yennefer, ever the practical one.

"He'll live," Geralt replied. "But the wounds are nasty, so we'll be moving slowly."

'Where are you?' asked Yennefer.

"Not far from the border of Kaedwen. About five miles north of the Pontar, in a forest."

'Good,' said Yennefer, then, after a few moments, she continued, 'There's a small village on the border of Redania and Kaedwen with a pilgrimage site. At the edge of the village, there's a cave where the villagers built a small shrine to Melitele. Do you know it?'

"Yes," said Geralt. "It's not far from our camp."

'Then I'll meet you there, so hurry up,' said Yennefer in a tone that brooked no argument. 'I will take you home.'

The slight glow from the xenovox faded, indicating that Yennefer had cut the line.

Jaskier's lips curled into a merry smile, "A quick breakfast, then?"

"Hm." Geralt crouched back down and tried to align Jaskier's fish on the skewer.

"What did she mean by taking us home? I thought we were still far from the witchers' keep. And who are they?" asked Lily Rose, confused.

"One of them is Princess Cirilla, Geralt's child surprise." Geralt snapped his head up again and glared at Jaskier. "What? Florian already knows!" Jaskier looked at Lily Rose and added, by way of explanation, "It's super-secret information: no one can know about it."

"No one will ever learn it from me," Lily Rose said, nodding.

Geralt sighed but nodded. The woman seemed trustworthy, and he was pretty sure that she was at least better at keeping secrets than Jaskier, and perhaps she could keep an eye on the bard to make sure he kept his mouth shut.

"The other one," continued Jaskier while he spun the skewers that Geralt placed over the fire. "The scary, bossy, intimidating one was Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt's…" he trailed off, not being sure how to end the sentence. He glanced at Geralt furtively, then busied himself with spinning the fish again. "Let's say it's complicated. She's a sorceress who teamed up with us recently. And she'll open a portal to take us to the keep."

"A portal?" Lily Rose marvelled. "I've heard about them but never seen one. They must be extraordinary."

"Well, that's one way to put it," Geralt said with a wry smile.

"Get ready for a rocky ride," Jaskier said and shuddered at the memory of his last trip.

The fish was ready before long. All three of them ate in a hurry and quickly set up camp. The weather was cooler than the day before, so they tried to help Jaskier into his coat, but his wounds were still too tender to bear the friction. The bard ended up wearing his tattered shirt, shivering slightly, supported on either side by Geralt and Lily Rose. Jaskier could walk much faster than yesterday though, so it didn't take them long to reach the cave.

Yennefer was waiting for them in front of the small shrine. When they got closer, she stepped to Jaskier, put her hand on his shoulder, and turned him slightly.

"You look truly awful, bard," she said as she sized up his back. She tried to sound nonchalant, as usual, but her voice trembled slightly, and her hand rose involuntarily to stroke the edge of a wound gently with her fingers.

"You should see the other guy," Jaskier quipped, but his smile quivered; even though he had managed to get some rest, the journey had still taken its toll.

Yennefer just rolled her eyes. Her fingers still lingered on the bard's back when she looked at Geralt and Lily Rose.

"You must be Florian's mother. He's a fine young man, you must be proud of him."

Lily Rose smiled brightly. "Yes, I am."

Yennefer took a step back.

"Let's go. The kids are missing their parents. Both of them," she glanced at Geralt with a half-smile. "And I guess Jaskier would appreciate a nice, hot bath."

"Oh, very much so," the bard sighed dreamily.

Yennefer opened the portal and then motioned for Geralt and Lily Rose to go first. Yennefer and Jaskier followed them closely. Geralt had to catch a very dizzy Lily Rose after they arrived at the main hall in Kaer Morhen, but she endured the journey surprisingly well. Jaskier clung tightly to Yennefer and panted with his eyes closed, but this time he made it through without vomiting.

"Mother," Florian exclaimed, and he jumped into Lily Rose's arms.

"My sweet boy," Lily Rose said, and, for the first time since they rescued her, she seemed truly relieved. She cried and laughed, and they held each other for a long time.

Ciri was quick with a tight embrace too, which Geralt returned with a sigh of relief. He trusted Yennefer with Ciri, yet he felt more at ease now that he could look after her again.

But Ciri pulled back soon and rushed to Jaskier and Yennefer.

"Jaskier! What happened?" she studied his back with a horrified expression.

"It's a long story, Ciri. Worth a song, maybe. And I promise I will tell you about it. But right now, I just want to go back to my chamber, if you don't mind," he flashed a tired smile at Ciri and the witchers who had gathered around them.

"Of course, we don't mind," Coёn said, stepping closer. "In fact, we have a surprise for you in your chambers."

"Surprise? What surprise?" asked Jaskier, while Coёn grabbed him by the elbow and led him away.

Lily Rose turned to Vesemir and the other witchers.

"Geralt told me you have been taking care of my Florian. I'm eternally grateful for that."

"It wasn't a burden," said Vesemir. "The kid is fierce and curious. He could be a great witcher. But I guess this is not what any mother wants for her child," he chuckled bitterly.

Lily Rose ran her hand through Florian's unruly curls and smiled at the boy, who was listening to the conversation with wide eyes, then turned back to Vesemir.

"I know he will face many monsters in his life, and I want to prepare him for that. But those monsters are different from the ones you are fighting."

"And what kind of monsters are they?" Vesemir asked, but from the mischievous and knowing glint in his eye, he already knew the answer.

"The worst kind," said Lily Rose. "Humans."

"Well, that's also a good enough ambition," Vesemir said. "Anyway, you're welcome to stay a little longer. There's supper for you, and you can draw a bath."

"Thank you. We'll stay for tonight. But tomorrow we will return to Montecalvo. We have a lot to do."

"Very well," Vesemir nodded. "I think the boy will gladly show you around our humble home."

Florian grinned from ear to ear. He grabbed his mother's hand and pulled her towards the main door.

Now that Jaskier and Lily Rose left the hall, Geralt found himself in the middle of questioning gazes. Suddenly, everyone wanted to hear what had happened, and Geralt was forced to tell at least the gist of the story. They asked questions for at least another hour before Geralt was finally able to go check up on Jaskier.

No sounds filtered out through Jaskier's chamber door. Geralt opened it cautiously and immediately spotted the wooden tub, full of foamy water, in the middle of the room. Jaskier was sitting in the tub, his head resting on the edge. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady.

Geralt felt exactly as he had a few days ago when they'd been washing in the river: he knew it was inappropriate, yet he couldn't take his eyes off the bard. In his sleep, Jaskier's features smoothed out, and he looked almost as he had before Caingorn; before his features had hardened. Geralt stepped closer and dipped his hand into the water to check its temperature and noticed that it was almost completely cold. He closed his eyes and warmed it with a small Igni, enough to keep the bard from catching a cold if he stayed in the water a while longer.

Then he fetched a small vial from his belt and stepped to the chair beside the tub, on which a bowl of water had been placed. Geralt tipped a few droplets from the vial into the bowl, and the smell of chamomile filled the room. This would come in handy when Jaskier rinsed his wounds after his bath. Geralt walked quietly back to the door, glanced at the bard once more, and left the chamber. He decided that he could use a bath, too.

Geralt didn't see Jaskier until dinner.

In honour of the guests, a slightly more lavish meal than usual had been prepared. Lambert had hunted a large wild boar that morning and prepared it for dinner. Vesemir even had the better wines brought out from the cellars.

Geralt sat at his usual place, beside Ciri. Jaskier, who had almost always sat either on the other side of Geralt or opposite him, now sat at the other end of the table, closely beside Lily Rose. Sometimes he glanced at Geralt, but when Geralt looked back at him, the bard always averted his gaze quickly.

When the dinner was over, Geralt watched as Lily Rose escorted Jaskier back to his chamber. He was no longer surprised by the piercing sting in his chest; he welcomed it almost as an old acquaintance.

"Lily Rose is so beautiful," Ciri said, munching on the rest of her dinner. "No wonder Jaskier fell in love with her."

"Hm."

Geralt suddenly felt as if the hall was running out of air.

"It's been a long day," he said as he suddenly stood up from the table. "I'd better get some rest."

Accompanied by the surprised looks from his brothers, he hurried out of the hall. He almost reached his chamber when Yennefer caught up with him.

"Geralt, wait!" she said, and Geralt stopped reluctantly. "What's going on with you?" she asked when she finally stood in front of him. "You've been moping all night."

"No, I haven't," Geralt growled. "In case you haven't noticed in the past few years, I'm not exactly the talkative type."

Yennefer studied him thoughtfully for a while but seemed to let the subject drop.

"Whatever," she said at last. She began to walk towards her own chamber, but she turned back before she reached the corner. "Although we're no longer together, you can still talk to me if something's bothering you, Geralt. I hope you know that."

"I know," Geralt said quietly, not meeting her gaze. Then something occurred to him. "Yen, do you remember when you cured Jaskier of the djinn's curse?"

Yennefer was momentarily taken aback by the sudden change of subject, but then she nodded. "Of course, I remember. It was a complicated enchantment, but I was able to reverse it. Why?"

"There was a mage in the fair. After they flogged Jaskier, he noticed something about him, and made some experiments." Geralt skipped these details when his brothers asked him about the events. He thought they were mainly Jaskier's business, and the bard had the right to decide whether to share them. "The mage discovered a certain… mutation. He said it was a consequence of a magical healing process."

Yennefer's eyes widened.

"No. No – that's impossible. That's… Are you implying that I – that I induced a mutation in Jaskier?"

Her voice was gradually rising and took on a hysterical lilt, so Geralt put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Not intentionally."

Yennefer's eyes darted back and forth as she struggled to find an explanation.

"But this... How is this possible? He seemed to be back to normal after I healed him."

"So, you didn't notice?"

"No, I... I've heard of mutations that usually go unnoticed, but I never thought... How does Jaskier's mutation manifest?"

"I can only speculate, but I think he's healing faster. He's not getting sick. He barely ages."

Yennefer pondered this for a while, then cocked her head and said, "That's why you've been acting so strangely!"

Geralt averted his eyes, but Yennefer continued, "Geralt, if it's true, we have to examine him, we have to find out-"

"Well, good luck with that. But you'd better hurry," Geralt said curtly, and, turning his back on Yennefer, he entered his room. "Good night, Yennefer," he said as he shut the door in the face of the puzzled sorceress.

He dropped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. You'd better hurry, Yennefer, because Jaskier will leave Kaer Morhen tomorrow, Geralt thought. And what would happen after that? Would their paths cross each other's ever again? Or would Jaskier forget about him eventually? Would he still sing songs about Geralt? And if he did, which ones would he sing? Those about the heroics of the White Wolf? Or the other one about burning the butcher?

Finally, the fatigue and lack of sleep of the past few days got the better of him, and he fell into a restless slumber.

The next time he opened his eyes, the first rays of the morning sun were streaming in through the window, and he could hear the sound of footsteps in the courtyard. Geralt's heart began to race as he jumped to his feet and ran towards the courtyard. Although he'd dreaded to think of the farewell itself, he couldn't bear it if he didn't get to say goodbye to Jaskier.

Geralt arrived in the courtyard just as Lambert handed Lily Rose a small package of food. She was standing in the ring of witchers with Florian on her left and Jaskier on her right. Ciri stood next to Florian and leaned over slightly to whisper something in his ear, to which Florian chuckled softly. Lily Rose was wearing a new, elegantly tailored, honey-coloured dress (Geralt suspected Yennefer's hand in it), which made a pleasing contrast with Jaskier's sky-blue shirt. The bard jerked his head up when he saw Geralt, a hint of hurt on his face.

"Geralt, I almost thought you weren't going to say goodbye!"

Geralt stopped a few steps away from them. Suddenly all eyes were on him. This was not how he had imagined saying goodbye. How could he say anything that came from his heart in front of such an audience?

He glanced up and caught Lily Rose's gaze. Good, it was easier this way.

"I hope your journey will be safe," he said, still carefully avoiding looking at Jaskier. "And I wish-" his voice wavered, so he cleared his throat, "I wish that you live in love and happiness."

With that, he turned on his heels and rushed back to the building.

His cheeks were burning with shame, and his eyes were strangely prickly. Just like when Boholt threw sand in his eyes at the dragon's cave. Maybe there's something in the air, dust, or things like that. Yes, it would be best if he left the keep for a while to have some fresh air. A long walk would certainly do.

Geralt grabbed his cloak and a piece of bread and cheese—his rumbling stomach reminded him of the skipped breakfast—and before he knew where he was going, he was in the woods, climbing up one of the high ridges. He walked for hours, paying no attention to anything but the trees, the melting snow, and the crispness of the air. But somewhere in a hidden corner of his mind, the thought that everything was over kept rattling around. It was only when the thin streaks began to freeze on his face in the cooling air that he realized he was weeping.

When Geralt reached one of the higher peaks, he stopped and forced himself to eat a few bites. He watched as the lights, shifting from afternoon to evening, painted Kaer Morhen in extraordinary colours. It was time to go back and face the painful reality.

By the time Geralt returned to the keep, the sun had set, and there were only a few windows where a glimmer of candlelight could still be seen. The hall was completely empty, the corridors deserted. Geralt walked back to his room, but he didn't have the strength to go through the door. Suddenly everything seemed unbearably cold and empty, and Geralt needed something to help him endure it.

On a sudden impulse, he continued down the corridor, heading straight to Jaskier's room. The presence of the bard had always soothed him, although he didn't realize it for a long time. Maybe if Jaskier had left there something, anything with his scent, his writing, his mark on it, it would help Geralt survive. Or it might just break his heart even more. It didn't matter. Geralt was willing to risk it because anything was better than this terrifying emptiness.

As he approached, he thought he heard something from Jaskier's room. As if someone was... humming, and Geralt thought he could hear the faint thrum of a lute's strings, too.

Great, now he was hallucinating.

He shook his head, but the strange sounds didn't cease. When he reached the room, he groaned angrily in a futile attempt to shake off the annoying noises, then put his hand on the handle and pushed the door open.

Geralt was expecting to find some parchment, a quill, maybe a bar of soap, or, if he was very lucky, a shirt.

What he didn't expect was Jaskier, sitting on the bed shirtless, his hand clutching on his lute, the soft strumming suddenly ceased. His blue eyes almost comically wide and his voice filled with surprise as he said, "Geralt! What are you doing here, at this hour? And where have you been all day?"