A/N: Currently I am in a Witcher fanfic kick and this is one of the stories (that I have a ending in mind) that begged to be written. (I have already most of this story on A3O for those who cannot wait until tomorrow for the next update).
Hope you enjoy it as much as I had writing it!
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Chapter 1
Taken
"In this place, to find is to lose, and to lose is to find. That is the way in Castle Oblivion."
—Kingdom Hearts Re: Chain of Memories
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After many months, Jaskier was able to finally numb the pain of his broken heart. He stayed with many people, meet a nice sorceress at one point a couple of days ago when he was making his way to Cintra to make his yearly visit to a certain princess.
There were some days he curses a certain witcher for being such a giant idiot, while at his weakest, prays in the darkest of nights maybe he really wasted half his life and never did get a clue of being the other's burden and curse.
Regardless, the heartbreak and agony in his soul came back like that accursed day on top of the mountain of that dragon hunt at a nameless inn he was currently singing. It took everything to ignore the blatant staring at the usual corner of the inn as he always sat.
With a flourished bow, the bard ends his set and bids his audience an early good night. He quickly goes up to his rented room and hoped at not being followed. He sneaks a peek behind and catches a glimpse of the witcher surrounded by a crowd. His white haired barely seen through the gap of the crowd.
Not looking into at the gift on the horse's mouth, Jaskier took two steps at a time to practically fly into his room and shoves everything into his bag. Once he places his lute into his case a shiver went down his spine and felt a sudden pain before a transforming into dizziness.
He blinks around the room and felt like in a dream, but he notices his packed back in front of him and remembers his time is running out if he wants to escape the witcher. Once he picks up his things, Jaskier fast walks back down.
Not wasting time to look for him, Jaskier walks to the innkeeper of the sudden change of plans of staying overnight.
The innkeeper only gives him an amused grin, eying at something — or someone — behind him.
Jaskier just gave a large, fake smile, pretending he didn't catch on his thoughts. Although at the back of his mind, he wondered where the woman went who usually spoke with while her husband behind her scowled at him. Now this very severe looking man who couldn't make him smile for anything for the whole day is here and his wife nowhere to be seen.
"I just remembered what day was today. You see, I have an upcoming competition that I must win," he winks, leaving the man laughing boisterously, "Ta!"
Strange indeed. Ignoring the growing dread, Jaskier left town.
After a few minutes walking into the forest, Jaskier curses himself. There was a reason he was keen to finding an inn; tired and his sleeping bag was soiled from the last couple of days of rain. Sure it's a clear night now, but the ground is not.
"Stupid," the bard mutters to himself, "He is the one who should have leave. I was there first."
"If life could give me one blessing it would be to take you off my hands!"
His shoulders slumped, not until then realizing how tense he was since he saw the witcher.
"Its like nothing really changed and time had not passed at all," Jaskier whispers into the night, walking silently through the sleeping forest.
If anything, Jaskier would always choose to help Geralt even if it meant to fulfill that last request.
"Jaskier."
Speaking of, Jaskier broke out of his thoughts at the call.
Once more, dread came over him. Is he going to finish off his broken heart? What more can the Witcher do to him?
"I was looking for you."
How hard it was not to turn around, all hating himself that secretly he had hoped to hear such words.
"Hmm, yes, wondrous night we're having, worry not, I will make sure to be even harder to find until you never meet me and finally forgotten such a terrible period in your long life," he babbled.
Thank you, traitorous mouth, less talking and more walking away before—
An annoyed grunt, but what does he know what that means anymore.
"Please look at me, Jaskier."
The bard whines and turns. Unable to deny, especially how he begs.
He looks at the strange gold eyes that flashed and the dread disappears.
But a crystal clear of wrongwrongwrong, thrums through him.
"You're not Geralt."
The witcher before him stares at him with a broken look that shifts into a sneer.
"Even now, your mental barriers holds?" the voice shifted to a higher pitch and the night around Jaskier darkens. Breathing became harder and Jaskier mentally screams his body to move!
Jaskier turns back to the fake Geralt, only to see a short dark haired woman smirking at him, "Lucky for you, I always like a challenge and I will break you mind, Bard. After all, 20 years with a witcher will bound to have some knowledge of his weaknesses in your pathetic human mind."
"How—?" he gasps, falling on his knees as he felt his whole body being one giant bruise.
"You never left the inn in your own power," she crackles and fades to nothing.
Along with her, so did the pain, which Jaskier takes a deep breath.
"I was not expecting for the failsafe work this soon, Master Bard," a soft voice thoughtfully echoed around him.
Jaskier huffs and wraps his arms around his legs, "Same. I was hoping to at least make it a month before they found me."
The voice hums, "While my real self would be getting an alert of the activation of the protection spell, I would not able to locate you. Just hold on until I can do so."
The presence of the sorceress—not to confused with the one who took form of Geralt earlier—was the one he assisted days ago from Nilfgaard soldiers. Both were captured and while they never gave each other's names other than their professions. Although the sorceress gave him a boon in exchange of making her a ballad. One of best responses he ever received.
This in his eyes elevated her to possibly being the only sorceress he trusts.
"I will do my best…" he whispers at the fading presence. His surroundings shift to an inn.
Not just any inn, but at Posada.
"So it begins," Jaskier closes his eyes, hands turning into a fist. After taking a deep breath, Jaskier takes a step forward only to trip over air.
Before he knew it, he gasps in pain, feeling his arms pulled above his head and no ground was found from his floating feet.
"What? You thought only mental torture, you'll be facing, Bard?" the short haired sorceress who kidnapped him smirks. Behind her were a couple of soldiers holding a whips and clubs.
His smile hid his pain, "Bring it! Its not the first time I woken up being tormented by a witch, although she had better room and didn't need no one else to do her dirty work."
She snarls and Jaskier braces himself.
Yennefer huffs in frustration, staring at the map of the Continent. Her postponed personal mission in breaking her bond with Geralt was back on. Unfortunately, her Chaos is out of her usual control since the battle of Sodden, where many of the Brotherhood were lost, be it death or betrayal.
There is no hints of another djinn or of anything of that caliber.
Suddenly, a flickering light catches her attention. She quickly feeds it before it fades away with the little Chaos she does have control over and gasps.
"Triss…" somehow her friend, whom she thought had died in Sodden is still alive, or at least her magic is activated that only works if she was alive to feed it.
The sorceress quickly gets her bag of potions and traveling pack ready. Whipping up her cloak to hide her burns and identity from anyone bothering her that would interrupt finding Triss, Yennefer prepares her journey to an inn from nowhere to find out what have become of her friend.
