By the time Geralt rode into the courtyard of Kaer Morhen it was getting dark. Ciri and Vesemir were waiting for them, and Ciri ran down the steps leading into the fortress as Geralt dismounted, hanging onto the saddle to prevent himself from falling to the ground as his legs shook beneath him. Geralt knew that he needed another dose of Golden Oriole, but he hadn't been about to ask Eskel if they could stop so Geralt could have another dose, not when Jaskier needed to get to Kaer Morhen as quickly as possible.

"Geralt!" Ciri greeted, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug, "Are you alright? What about Jaskier? What happened to the Wyvern? You don't look well; we need to get you inside and…oh…"

Ciri's voice trailed off, and Geralt turned, his gaze following Ciri's line of sight to Eskel, gingerly lowering Jaskier's limp body off Scorpion and into Vesemir's waiting arms. Jaskier looked even worse now than he had earlier on the mountain path, however impossible that seemed, although Geralt could still hear his heart beat and breaths.

"He's still alive, but…" Eskel offered, dismounting from Scorpion once Jaskier was secure in Vesemir's embrace. Vesemir for his part, was already carrying Jaskier inside. Geralt moved to follow, forgetting his own weakness as he let go of the saddle of Vesemir's horse. His legs buckled beneath him, and he dragged Ciri with him as he fell to his knees onto the cobbles of the courtyard. Ciri let out a frightened scream.

"Geralt, you are hurt."

Eskel swore, "You fucking idiot, why didn't you tell me you were still feeling it?"

"Needed to get Jaskier here…I could wait, he can't. Help me up."

Eskel sighed and pulled Geralt's arm over his shoulder. Ciri did the same on the other side, and between the two of them they got Geralt to his feet and supported him as he stumbled towards the keep, following after Vesemir.

They ended up in an empty bedroom that was across the hallway from Geralt's room. Geralt knew that Vesemir had begun to clean up the room and make it liveable after the first winter Geralt mentioned meeting and travelling with Jaskier, although it had taken over twenty years for Geralt to actually bring Jaskier to the mountain. Now, however, the room would finally be getting some use.

Jaskier was gently laid out on the bed, and Eskel and Ciri guided Geralt to a comfortable chair beside the fireplace. Eskel shoved another vial of Golden Oriole into Geralt's hand before he hurried out of the room to collect more medical supplies.

"Ciri, could you light the fire please?" Vesemir requested as Geralt drank the potion. He immediately felt the lingering effects of the venom began to fade some more. The first dose that Eskel had given him had certainly done the job of preventing him from dying, but the amount of time that had passed between being slashed by the Wyvern and receiving the potion had meant that the second dose was required. Now that he'd had it though, Geralt felt stronger and more like his normal self, although the moment he saw the way Jaskier was laying on the bed, Vesemir leaning over him, inspecting his wounds, make Geralt feel sick.

"How…?" Geralt couldn't bring himself to finish the question as Ciri busied herself with lighting the fire.

Vesemir gave Geralt a look…one that Geralt recognised. It was the same look that Vesemir used to carry when boys were dying during the trials, or one was killed during a training mission or a hunt. Geralt had long lost track of the number of times he had seen Vesemir tending to boys in their final hours, soothing them, comforting them, even on occasion cradling them in his arms as they slipped away.

"I…I don't understand how he's still with us, but…but the damage is severe. I've seen Witchers die from wounds like these. A human…the best we can do is keep him comfortable until he goes. With the amount of blood he's lost I doubt he'll wake up again but…we can get him warm and comfortable."

Geralt rose to his feet, relieved to find his legs capable of supporting his weight this time. He approached the bed, sitting on the opposite side of the bed to Vesemir, taking in Jaskier's near bloodless complexion. He reached out and took Jaskier's hand in his own, feeling the pulse of blood beneath his fingers, as well as being able to see the way Jaskier's chest rose and fell with each breath.

Eskel returned, laden with medical supplied and a basin of warm water, before he hurried out again, this time taking Ciri with him, to tend to the horses.

Wordlessly, Vesemir began to clean the wounds, and Geralt appreciated the effort Vesemir was putting in, treating the injury the same as if it was simply a minor scrape or a small cut, rather than injuries that would certainly cause death.

"How did it happen?"

"Wyvern attack," Geralt sighed, although he knew that Ciri had probably told Vesemire what they had been attacked by, "It knocked me off the side of the path. I was still trying to climb back up when it tried to get me. Jaskier picked up my sword and swung it into it's side to get it's attention off me, giving me a chance."

"Brave, probably foolish, but very brave of him," Vesemir nodded as he worked. Geralt fell silent as the blood was gently wiped away. The bleeding had slowed down now, which made Vesemir's task easier, although it revealed the true extent of Jaskier's injuries.

The Wyvern's claws had shredded through Jaskier's chest and abdomen, leaving long slash marks that cut deep into Jaksier's flesh, and the underlying tissue. Geralt could see the white of Jaskier's ribs in numerous places, and Geralt closed his eyes and forced himself to take a steadying breath at the thought of the sort of damage the Wyvern had done to Jaskier's internal organs. The puncture wounds left by the Wyvern's teeth were shallower, but still life threatening in their own right. A Wyvern could easily bite a man in half if they were biting hard enough.

"It's a good thing he's unconscious right now," Vesemir offered in a comforting voice, "I imagine this would all be very painful."

Geralt nodded, rubbing his thumb over Jaskier's hand gently, hoping that Jaskier knew he was there…and that he would stay there…until the end.

He wasn't going to leave Jaskier, not now.

The two Witchers were silent. Vesemir finished cleaning the wounds, and then slathered them with a healing salve that, while strong, was till safe for humans. Then Geralt supported Jaskier's limp body as Vesemir bandaged his entire chest and abdomen.

As Vesemir tided everything up, getting rid of the bloodstained cloths and filthy water, Eskel and Ciri returned. Ciri walked solemnly across to the bed and sat on the edge of the bed beside Geralt, her eyes shining with tears.

"How is he?"

"Still unconscious, you haven't missed anything."

"He looks more comfortable now he's been cleaned up," Ciri observed quietly.

"He hates it when he's dirty," agreed Geralt, not letting go of Jaskier's hand, but wrapping his spare arm comfortingly around Ciri, letting her snuggle close. Ciri rested her head against Geralt's chest.

"He…he's going to die, isn't he, Geralt?"

Geralt hesitated before replying, "Probably," he admitted, his own heart clenching in his chest at the admission. Ciri sniffed, and Geralt caught the salty scent of Ciri's tears in the air, mixing with the metallic scent of Jaskier's blood.

"He…He saved my life, getting the Wyvern's attention off me so I could get back up." Geralt told her, knowing that Ciri deserved the truth about what happened.

"Someone should write a song about it. There should be lots of songs and poems about him."

Geralt nodded in agreement, but at the same time knowing that it was likely that Jaskier's bravery would go undocumented and no-one would know the truth of Jaskier's fate. If anyone questions Jaskier's sudden disappearance from the word they would probably assume it was Geralt himself that killed Jaskier.

"Is there any hope of him surviving?"

"Ciri, he is very badly hurt," Vesemir saved Geralt from having to respond, "He's lost a lot of blood…too much blood. He probably has internal injuries, and I am no expert when it comes to healing humans. There is little more we can do for him here, and even if he had the best healer in the world…I do not know…"

Ciri nodded in understanding, "is he in pain now?"

"No, he's not" Vesemir replied with a weak smile that was meant to be reassuring, but didn't quite look convincing.

Geralt continued to rub Jaskier's hand with his thumb, and Ciri moved to the other side of the bed and took Jaskier's hand in her own.

"Do you think Yen would be able to help him?" she asked softly. Geralt blinked and he heard Vesemir and Eskel stop what they were doing.

They'd all forgotten about the pendant that Yennefer had given Ciri, spelled so that Ciri could make contact with the powerful sorceress whenever she wanted. While Geralt doubted that Yennefer would be able to save Jaskier's life, as even her magic had it's limits, it couldn't hurt to ask.

"We could try I suppose," Vesemir offered, "I don't want you to get too hopeful though, it might be too much, even for Yennifer." The words were directed to Ciri, but were also aimed at Geralt too. Ciri gripped her pendent and dashed from the room, and Eskel hurried after her. While the necklace worked wherever Ciri was it worked much better when Ciri was outside, especially as there was old magic in the stones of Kaer Morhen, put there by the earliest Wolf Witchers as they built the fortress, to protect against the attack of magic users. The same magic prevented Yennefer portalling directly into the keep itself, although she could portal into the clearing just beyond the walls of the keep without any issue.

"Did you hear that?" Geralt found himself whispering to Jaskier, "Ciri's going to get Yen to come and save you. I know she's not your favourite person, but she might be able to save your life. You've just got to hang on a little bit longer, ok Jaskier? You've just got to hang on."

Jaskier gave no indication that he had heard Geralt, but his heart was still beating, and he was still breathing, so Geralt was pleased enough. He maintained his position beside Jaskier, keeping up his vigil as Vesemir checked on the fire, and continued to fetch items that Yennefer might need.

Geralt felt his medallion vibrate against his skin briefly, before it stopped, and knew that it meant that Yennefer had arrived. He could hear the heartbeat of an additional person nearby with Eskel and Ciri. Geralt didn't focus on the sounds though, instead continuing to focus his attention on Jaskier. Geralt shifted a little closer and brushed back a strand of Jaskier's hair that had fallen onto his face, combing it back where it belonged with his fingers. He didn't move from his position, gently rubbing his unoccupied hand Jaskier's closest shoulder.

He was still there when he heard footsteps enter the room, but he didn't look away from Jaskier's lax features.

"Ciri said it was bad, but even then, I didn't imagine…" Yennefer's voice was soft and solemn.

"It was a Wyvern," Geralt explained, finally looking briefly at Yennefer, before he returned his gaze to Jaskier. Yen sighed and approached the side of the bed on Jaskier's other side, taking up the position that Vesemir had originally taken.

"Do you need me to remove the bandages?" Vesemir asked.

"No, not yet, I don't want to disturb anything until I need to, not when he's…" Yennefer shook her head, before holding her hand out over Jaskier's body. She closed her eyes, and Geralt forced himself to let out the breath he'd been holding, feeling his wolf medallion vibrate in response to Yennefer's chaos.

Yennefer didn't need long to survey Jaskier's injuries using her magic, and she opened her eyes again, her hand dropping to her side, her shoulders slumping and a sad look on her face.

"Can you heal him?" Ciri asked hopefully.

Yennefer turned sad eyes towards Ciri, "Ciri…He's hurt very, very badly, and he's not exactly young anymore. His body…it might not survive the healing process."

Ciri visibly drooped as she realised that Yennefer might not be able to save Jaskier's life, and Geralt couldn't blame her. He too could feel his hope fading.

"I will do what I can for him, but it may not be enough," Yennefer promised and Ciri nodded.

"Ciri, why don't you and I go down to the kitchen and start making some bone broth. If Jaskier wakes up he's going to need some liquids, and Bone broth might help him feel a bit better," Vesemir suggested. Ciri opened her mouth to protest, but then she let it shut, ruefully glancing over her shoulder at Jaskier.

"Alright," she sighed, letting Vesemir guide her from the room, with Eskel trailing behind.

Yennefer's body language changed once Ciri was out of sight, "What did you do it him?" she asked Geralt, turning upon him

"Me? I didn't do anything to him."

"I've been healing humans for a long time, Geralt. There is no way a human would have lasted this long with injuries that bad," Yennefer gestured at Jaskier.

"I didn't do anything; I haven't given him any potions or anything. The only thing that Vesemir put on him was some healing salve. Geralt pointed to the jar in question and Yennefer picked it up and sniffed it's contents.

"Well, it wasn't that, as effective as this stuff is," she admitted, obviously identifying its contents.

"What was that comment about his age for anyway?" Geralt asked, defensive on Jaskier's behalf

"Geralt…he's in his forties. I know he doesn't look it, but he's getting on for a human.

Geralt closed his eyes at the painful reminder of Jaskier's mortality. Geralt estimated that Jaskier might have another ten or fifteen years left before he passed away, if he lived that long, maybe a bit longer, if they were lucky.

"Although, I suppose it could be whatever it is that has him looking so young that is keeping him alive," reasoned Yennefer thoughtfully.

Geralt hadn't thought of that possibility. He tended to not think about Jaskier's seemingly eternal youthfulness, although as the decades passed it was becoming slightly impossible to ignore the fact that Jaskier still looked like a boy fresh out of college, rather than a seasoned bard who had been following Geralt around for over twenty years.

"He's never said anything to me about what it is," Geralt admitted.

Yennefer nodded, "not really something to worry about for the moment. I'm going to try and heal his internal injuries first."

"Internal injuries? How bad?"

"About as bad as I've ever seen. He's got multiple broken ribs, and one of them has punctured one of his lungs. Luckily, all the blood that would have pooled in his chest cavity was able to come out through the slashes where he's been clawed, so there's less risk of him drowning in his own blood. He's got multiple damaged organs in his abdomen, although they shouldn't be too difficult to heal. The amount of blood he's lost is a problem. It's lucky it's been so cold, it probably prevented him from bleeding out and encouraged blood clotting to happen."

"What are his chances, be honest?"

"Not great, but then, it's Jaskier we're talking about, and he loves nothing more than proving me wrong, so, well, that's in his favour."

Geralt nodded and Yennefer positioned herself back over Jaskier, holding her hand out over him and closing her eyes as she concentrated. Geralt felt his wolf medallion begin to vibrate and knew that Yennefer was using her magic, although whether it would be successful was another story entirely.

"Did you ever meet his family?" Yennefer asked.

"No, I know that they ruled Lettenhove, but we never went through there. We only went close once and Jaskier never mentioned a desire to go visiting. He might have vistited over the winters, or when we weren;t travelling together, but not while I was with him."

"We can't choose who we're related to I suppose," Yennefer reasoned with a shrug before returning to her spell work. As she worked Geralt could hear Jaskier's breathing get a little easier and less strained and the wheeze that was concerning him eased considerably.

"Are you sure you didn't give him some Witcher potion or something at some point?" Yennefer queried.

"No, it was too dangerous for him, and I warned him numerous times. He knew not to try it, and he wouldn't have been able to hide it even if he had drunk something. They would have all killed him. Why?"

"Because I don't think Jaskier's human," Yennefer lowered her arm, a weariness showing one her face that had not been there when she'd arrived.

"What do you mean he's not human?"

"I mean, healing him feels a lot like healing you or another Witcher. It's not taking nearly as much as I thought it would to patch up his internal injuries, and even the surface wounds are more healed than they should be if they're only a few hours old. I noticed it after the djinn too, but I assumed it was that he had some elven blood or something, although now I know he feels more Witcher than elf."

"Jaskier's not a Witcher though."

"I'm not saying he is. I'm saying it's almost like he's a Witcher. It would explain the youthful looks too. I think we're going to need to undo these bandages now, I want to see what we're dealing with properly now."

Geralt helped as Yennefer carefully unrolled the bandages, exposing Jaskier's wounds once again. Geralt couldn't help but notice that Yennefer was right, they did look a little more healed that they should, given that they were still very fresh.

Yennefer, however, winced sympathetically, "He didn't get hit with the tail?"

"No," Geralt replied, maintaining his gentle hold of Jaskier's hand.

"Good," Yennefer nodded, pulling some bottles out of her shoulder bag, "These will help ward off infection, and will stimulate the healing process. It will also lessen the severity of any scarring or permanent damage."

Yennefer began to apply the salves and cream, not only to the wounds themselves, but the uninjured skin around them too. By the time she was finished Jaskier was nearly completely covered from his shoulders down to his waist. Once again she held her hand over the worst of the wounds and began to murmur under her breath, her face pinched in concentration as she began to heal him. The worst of the slashes began to heal, the cuts becoming shallower as the flash beneath knitted seamlessly back together.

It went on for what seemed like hours until Yennefer stopped, slumping a little from exhaustion.

"I won't bandage the wounds again yet," she told Geralt, "I want his body to absorb more of those salves before I cover them back up again."

Geralt frowned, "Isn't that going to tempt infection?"

"If he was going to get an infection, he's probably already got it," Yennefer admitted, "Wyvern's aren't known for keeping their teeth and claws clean, and who knows what he was exposed to out on the mountainside before Eskel found you both. I have potions to help him if he does start showing signs of it being infected, but I don't want to give them to him now…he's still very weak, and If I give them to him now, and he gets sick in a few days I might not have enough."

Yennefer packed up her jars, returning them to their rightful positions in her bag, before she settled back into her position opposite Geralt on the bed. Geralt rubbed his hand over his face and glanced out the window. It was still pitch-black outside, indicating it was still night time, although he had no idea how late, or early, it was.

"You should rest," Yennefer told him, "Ciri mentioned that you were hurt too."

Geralt shifted his arm, glancing down at it. The slash left by the Wyvern was now just a pink line on his arm, thanks to his Witcher healing, in combination with the Golden Oriole.

"I'm fine, I'm not leaving him. You should rest, you're the one who just healed him."

"Not completely, the rest is up to him," Yennefer shook her head, "He's not out of the woods yet, even with his healing being…not human."

"You don't know what's causing it?"

"No. No…and it's annoying me," confessed Yenenfer with a frown, "If I didn't know better, I would say he was a witcher, but at the same time, I know he's not. Even if he was a witcher and he was using a glamour of some sort to hide it, I should be able to tell, as would you. After so many years of you both travelling together surely you would have spotted some sign."

"He…he's always just been…him," Geralt shrugged.

Yennefer let out a huff of air and reached forward taking Jaskier's hand in her own, interlacing their fingers so their palms were pressed together. She closed her eyes, whispering some sort of incantation under her breath. Geralt had no idea how long she sat like that, holding Jaskier's hand, while he held the other. Jaskier remained motionless, and if Geralt couldn't hear Jaskier's heartbeat, which had slowed to a more normal rate, and his breathing, he might have believed Jaskier was dead. It was strange to see Jaskier so still. He was always moving, even in his sleep he moved and twitched. Now, though, he was stationary, save for the rise and fall of his chest. Jaskier's face had regained a little of his normal colour, although he still looked rather pale.

Vesemir and Eskel came and went, checking in on how they were doing, and tending to the fireplace. Ciri had been put to bed in her room across the hallway, beside Geralt's own room, and was sound asleep.

Geralt felt his own fatigue tugging at his eyelids, but he shook it off, refusing to rest while Jaskier was still unconscious. Jaskier had never met Vesemir or Eskel, and he wasn't a fan of Yennefer, although since the fall of Cintra and everything that had happened since then Jaskier tolerated Yennefer's presence better. Geralt didn't want to risk Jaskier waking up without him there beside him.

Across Jaskier's bed Yennefer let out a gasp and jerked back, releasing Jaskier's hand as her eyes snapped open once again.

"What is it?" Geralt was suddenly wide awake, his finger's tightening around Jaksier's hand protectively. Yennefer didn't reply, instead staring down at Jaskier with wide eyes.

"That…That's not possible," she choked out, "He can't be…"

"Yen…what's going on. Is he alright?"

Yennefer didn't look like she was going to respond, and Geralt considered tapping Yennefer on the arm to get some sort of reaction and to remind her that he was still there, but the mage blinked and tore her eyes away from Jaskier, looking towards Geralt again.

"Yennefer, what's wrong? Is something wrong with Jaskier?"

"No…no, he's, well. It's nothing bad. Considering his condition, it's probably the only thing that stopped him from dying before Eskel could get to you both."

"What is it?"

Yennefer hesitated before responding, "Have you ever been to Lettenhove…even before you met Jaskier?"

Geralt thought about it, before shaking his head. The coastal cities of Kerack usually didn't have much to offer a Witcher, and Geralt had never had reason to travel there, usually preferring more inland routes while he was on the path. Jaskier had never shown any interest in returning there with Geralt, nor had Jaskier ever mentioned going there on his own.

Yennefer nodded, "Well, that's something. It shouldn't be possible, but at least it's not likely to be you."

"What shouldn't be possible."

"Jaskier's father was a Witcher. That's why he's healing better than I expected…that's why he still looks like he's barely past twenty…that's why he's still alive right now."

"But…Witcher's can't sire children."

"I know," Yennefer nodded, running her fingers through her hair, "believe me, I know. Someone must have figured out how to get past that though."

"Who do you think it was?"

"You would know better than me," Yennefer shrugged.

"He's…forty-two now," Geralt frowned, "so…it's someone who survived the sieges, which narrows it down considerably. It might not be one of us, he might have been from a different school, and he might not still be alive, whoever he was. Lettenhove is on the coast, Crane school specialises in Aquatic and coastal monsters, although I don't know if there are many of them left, they were a smaller school to begin with anyway. It could have been a Griffin, or a Bear, or even a Cat or a Viper."

"We should try to find out," Yennefer suggested, "wouldn't you want to know if it was you?" As she spoke the pulled out some clean bandages out of her bag and began to wrap Jaskier's wounds, the salves and lotions now absorbed and doing their work, with Geralt helping move Jaskier when needed

"How are we going to find out the truth though, there wouldn't be many still alive who would be able to tell you anything."

"Maybe," Yennefer considered, "It's worth trying though."

"How is he?" Vesemir asked from the doorway. It looked like the older Witcher had managed to get some sleep, and Geralt belatedly realised that while he and Yennefer talked the sun had begun to peek its way above the horizon.

"Still alive. I've healed him up as much as I can, for the time being." Yennefer replied, "I've also discovered that Jaskier is the son of a Witcher."

"I didn't think that was possible," exclaimed Vesemir, frowning as he walked into the room and regarded the unconscious bard, "how?"

"It's possible his mother wasn't entirely human, likely part fae or part elf. Perhaps she was able to do something to work around the sterility of Witchers, and if she wasn't able to do it herself, she could have bought a potion or hired a mage or sorcerer of some sort to do it, it wouldn't be overly difficult either way."

Vesemir nodded, "you said he was a noble of some sort, Geralt?"

"Yes, he introduces himself as a Viscount, from Lettenhove."

Vesemir looked thoughtful, "It doesn't seem to matter where they are from, but most noble families would never have promoted any sort of gossip regarding the family being not quite human. Most of them are old, you both know the sort, I'm sure. They would never want to be perceived as anything but completely human."

Yennefer and Geralt both nodded in understanding., knowing what Vesemir was implying. Many of the old families of the continent hid the fact that there might be some inhuman blood in their veins. It was surprisingly common for some young Lord to fall in love with a pretty girl with some wealth, only to find that she was part elf or part fae, but few wanted attention drawn to the fact, and any evidence was usually hidden away.

"Is there any way to know, for sure, who Jaskier's father was?" Geralt asked, "with any sort of certainty?"

Yennefer shook her head "Not without seeing if we can find someone who was around then and can give us some more information."

"Is that likely, given that so many years have passed?"

"The odds are not great," admitted Yennefer, "but hopefully there will be someone still alive who

remembers what happened.