Eskel and Yennefer had barely made it a few steps from Jaskier's closed bedroom floor before Eskel groaned and leaned wearily against the stone wall of the hallway.
"I feel sick…I thought we had shit childhoods…. that…that was torture…he was nine…nine! That's younger than Ciri is!"
Yennefer nodded in agreement, in her mind already conjuring up horrific things she could inflict on Jaskier's surviving family members for their treatment of the bard as a child.
"I guessed his childhood wasn't pleasant, but even I wasn't expecting…that," she admitted.
"Have you ever met them…his parents?"
"Once, but that was long ago, they were at a court function that I attended. The Earl and his wife were newly married then. It would have still been about fifteen or so years before Jaskier was born."
"What were they like?"
"Snobbish, but most nobles are, as you know."
Eskel snorted in agreement and levered himself off the wall, "Come on, I need a drink after that, and we should tell Vesemir what we've learned."
"A drink sounds…fantastic, actually," Yennefer followed Eskel towards the kitchen. Vesemir was already there, chopping vegetables to be added to the stew he was going to serve for dinner. Yennefer looked around protectively for Ciri, noticing the girl's absence.
"She's in the stables fussing over Roach," Vesemir smiled, noticing Yennefer's searching eyes, and Yennefer visibly relaxed as Eskel offered her a bottle of wine. Yennefer read the label and smiled approvingly. Considering that Witcher's couldn't get drunk off wine (without White Gull being added), Vesemir kept a fine wine cellar.
"It's a bit early in the day for drinks, isn't it?" Vesemir asked as Eskel poured some wine for Yennefer, along with mugs of White Gull for Vesemir and himself.
"Jaskier woke up enough for me to ask him some questions. He proved…rather chatty, a good sign that he's recovering, more like the normal mouthy Jaskier that doesn't know when to shut up."
"Well, that's good, Young Ciri was getting worried, and Geralt too." Vesemir replied, allowing himself to be relieved as well. He'd never met the bard before now, his very first sight of the bard being the limp, blood covered, pale unconscious body that Eskel had propped against his chest as he rode into the courtyard. They had yet to meet formally during the time that had passed since Jaskier, Geralt and Ciri had arrived at Kaer Morhen, the young bard only showing brief moments of consciousness before falling back asleep. On a couple of occasions Vesemir had been in the room when Jaskier had stirred, but on both occasions Jaskier had done little more that let out a few weak groans before Geralt or Yennefer gave him some potion Yennefer had supplied to help with the pain, of to give him some spoons of Vesemir's bone broth and some water before Jaskier slipped back into unconsciousness.
Despite this, Vesemir already thought highly of the young bard, judged solely from the stories Geralt had told over the last twenty years of the young bard that followed him around, despite Geralt's best efforts to dissuade him. It had become quite a fixture of their winters to hear about the antics of Geralt's bard, and Eskel and Lambert had both reported about how, thanks to Jaskier's music, the way they had been treated throughout the continent had warmed considerably.
"Was he able to tell you anything helpful?"
"Yes," Yennefer replied sipping her wine and wishing it was something a little stronger, "among other things."
"Oh" Vesemir lifted his eyebrow and observed the pair. Eskel had a rather shellshocked look about him, and even the Witch looked far from her usual calm and collected self.
"Jaskier shared some stories about his childhood. He hasn't seen his parents, nor has he been to Lettenhove, since he was nine."
"Something that was probably a good thing, otherwise he might not have made it to even meet Geralt." Eskel added, drinking from his mug deeply. Vesemir took a small sip of his own drink, getting an idea of where the conversation that had taken place had gone.
"And in regards to your suspicions?"
"It looks likely. He remembers being told, and I quote, that he was made to serve the Pankratz family, and to protect his brothers and his parent's legacy."
Eskel nodded, "Apparently his father died when Jaskier was still at school, but his mother may still be alive. One of Jaskier's elder bothers is probably the current earl."
"We can only hope that Jaskier's mother is willing to talk to us, or there are some servants still around that are willing to share what they know," Vesemir offered, "But I still don't know what has caused…this," he gestured at Eskel's now nearly empty mug, and Yennefer's glass of wine.
Yennefer's eyes were misted with unshed tears, "The stories he told…weren't nice. He…they tortured him."
"His brothers were monsters of the worst human kind, and his parents did nothing. One of them tried to murder him, nearly crippled him, and Jaskier was the one that got blamed and sent away. They threw him aside as a nine year old because he wasn't what they wanted."
"His parents didn't want him to become a bard, they wanted him to be a soldier," elaborated Yennefer
Eskel scoffed and downed the remainder of his white gull in one swallow, "They didn't just want a solder, they wanted their own pet fucking Witcher."
THE WITCHER
Geralt wasn't sure what had woken him from his slumber, his body still heavy with fatigue as he lay beside Jaskier. He could feel Jaskier beside him, still comfortably resting against Geralt's body. Geralt took a moment, his eyes still closed, to enjoy the moment…until his weary brain clicked on what had caused his return to wakefulness.
Jaskier's heart was racing.
Geralt's eyes snapped open and pulled away from Jaskier, just as the bard let out a soft whimper.
"Fuck," Geralt cursed reaching out and resting his hand against Jaskier's forehead, his shoulders slumping in relief as he confirmed that Jaskier didn't have a fever.
Jaskier let out another whimper, twitching beneath Geralt's hand, and Geralt combed his fingers through Jaskier's hair once again, trying to sooth him.
"No…no, don't…please don't..." Jaskier choked out and Geralt jerked his hand away as if he'd been burnt.
"Jaskier?"
Jaskier's face furrowed in distress, "no, not my lute…please…" he begged.
Realisation dawned on Gerald's face as he caught on to what the issue was. He should have picked it earlier, having spent over a year soothing Ciri through her own nightmares. Geralt should have expected this. Of course Jaskier was going to have nightmares after being forced to relive the pain of his childhood, the abuse he'd suffered at the hands of his older brothers and his parents.
"Jaskier, it's alright... it's just a nightmare, you're safe," Geralt told Jaskier, reaching out and resting his hand on Jaskier's shoulder.
Instead of calming Jaskier, the gesture seemed to do the opposite, as Jaskier cried out and began to thrash. Geralt's eyes widened in panic, knowing how dangerous it would be if Jaskier reopened his wounds.
"Jaskier, stop!" Geralt ordered, but Jaskier remained trapped in his nightmare, his thrashing continuing. Geralt gritted his teeth and threw his body across Jaskier's, trying to limit Jaskier's movements. Jaskier's flailing only become wore, struggling against Geralt's body weight.
"Please…please stop, I'll be good, I'll try again…please help…help!" Jaskier cried out
"Jaskier Jaskier…wake up…wake up, it's just me, you're ok," Geralt murmured gently, "It's Geralt, yu're alright, you're having a dream, your safe at Kaer Morhen, you just need to wake up."
Jaskier's eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp, his movements ceasing. Geralt hurried lifted his body off of Jaskier's, not wanting his body weight on Jaskier's already battered and beaten chest to restrict his breathing"
"Geralt?" Jaskier whimpered, his eyes shining with tears.
Geralt nodded, "it's ok," he offered in reassurance, "I'm here, you're safe."
Jaskier let out a hitching breath, which turned into a sob.
"I…I can't go back, please don't make me go back there."
"No one is going to make you go back there," Geralt replied, not even wondering where exactly Jaskier was taking about, it was obvious that me meant Lettenhove.
Jaskier let out another pained, hitching sob and Geralt rolled off Jaskier and instead sat on the bed beside him, gently guiding Jaskier upright with the support of various pillows and cushions that Ciri had searched for to make Jaskier's bed more comfortable. Once upright, however, Jaskier leaned against Geralt, rather than the pillows. Geralt hugged Jaskier close, although he tried to avoid hugging his friend too tightly as Jaskier sobbed.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Geralt had never thought he would ever say that particular sentence willingly to Jaskier, and was even more surprised when Jaskier shook his head, still clinging onto Geralt, but then Geralt realised he shouldn't be so surprised. Although Jaskier being unwilling to talk was a rare occurrence, he had always avoided talking about his life prior to going to study at Oxenfurt, and never discussed his family with anyone.
Geralt let out a sigh and "Alright, you don't have to tell me, but if you change your mind…I'm here."
He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of hurried approaching footsteps and then the door to Jaskier's room opening. Vesemir and Eskel entered the room, both of them giving Geralt and Jaskier concerned looks. Jaskier groaned and tucked his head shyly against Geralt's chest.
"We heard Jaskier getting upset," Vesemir explained.
"Thought you needed some help," Eskel added helpfully. Geralt noticed the way Eskel seemed to be swaying on his feet, and shot Vesemir a questioning look.
Vesemir shrugged, "after he and Yennefer left you two they both decided a drink was in order…and then some more. Eskel got into the last of Lambert's White Gull that I had stored."
Geralt nodded in understanding. White Gull was a potent mixture, even for Witchers, and Lambert made his blend especially strong.
Eskel reached out and grabbed onto the doorframe to stop himself from swaying, "What happened? Is Jaskier ok?"
Jaskier didn't seem ready to respond just yet, maybe embarrassed by the attention of the other Witchers, so Geralt replied for him.
"Just a vivid nightmare, we're alru=ight here. Where's Yennefer, I hope you didn't let her try Lambert's poison?"
Eskel snorted, "She stuck to Vesemir's wine, apparently he has fine taste. She's already gone to bed."
"I think Eskel and I might do the same," Vesemir added, "if you think you'll be alright with him until morning?"
"We should be alright," Geralt agreed, and the other two Witchers departed.
"Thank you, Geralt," Jaskier croaked out. Geralt reached for the cup of water sitting on the bedside table and offered it to Jaskier, letting Jaskier have a few sips.
"What for,"
"For changing the subject…I…they don't need to fuss over me just because I had a bad dream."
"They understand," Geralt replied, "You think that, after seeing what we do every day, we don't have nightmares?"
"You don't normally wake the castle up screaming," Jaskier retorted.
"You didn't wake anyone up, they were already awake. You didn't wake Ciri, she would have come in by now if you had, Yennefer would have too, and their rooms are a lot closer than Eskel and Vesemir were. They only heard you because of Witcher hearing."
Jaskier let out a muffled groan, before he yawned.
"Do you want to go back to sleep?"
"Not really," Jaskier admitted, "But I'm so tired still I don't think I'll be able to stop myself."
"You need to sleep; your body still has a lot of healing to do." Geralt reminded Jaskier, although he doubted that Jaskier had forgotten the fact. The way Jaskier hissed and moaned in pain every time he moved was evidence of that.
"I'll be right here with you, I promise."
"Don't want to have a dream like that again," Jaskier protested half-heartedly.
"I know," consoled Geralt, "and I'm sorry,"
"What for?"
"we made you talk about…something that was horrible for you, something that you've never spoken about in front of me before…We should have known it would bring back bad memories."
Jaskier blinked and looked up at Geralt, "that was surprisingly thoughtful and touching, coming from you. Emotions are not normally your strong point."
"I'll put it down to your influence, just don't tell Eskel or Lambert."
Jaskier smirked, "I knew you were a softy deep down,"
"Shut up."