Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Those are property of Mr Sapkowski and I am using mostly Netflix series canon and the books.
Warning : this fic contains references of alcoholic behaviour, suicidal thoughts. Description of a wound. Blood (not too much).
In the Muse Saga my Jaskier is bi and in love with Geralt. Yet it's still platonic. Can be read as more if you want. It follows "where do I belong" but this not needed to understand to plot.
In this I don't take account of Nightmare of the Wolf headcanon. I stay with the human raid version of Kaer Morhen.
[Edit] I have corrected a lot of mistakes I had left when I published. This is the curse of publishing. I see the mistakes better when they are online ;D. Sorry.
This story is a bit special for me because the struggle of Jaskier is kinda mine... The difference is there is a happy ending for him.
A shard of glass
The diner was animated. Cohen and Lambert were their normal self again, sending bad jokes like it was fencing moves. Geralt was discretely smiling and Ciri was giggling. The other witchers soon joined that bad humour battle with glee. Vesemir smiled.
The fortress was finding its routine again. To be fair, his boys adapted quicker than he. He lost too many sons in a short time. His old heart was sore. But there was still some life in Kaer Morhen and that was good. Ciri was not a witcher but she was training as hard as any of them. And this reminded him of the old time. Seeing Geralt turning into a substitute father like he did made him so proud.
Maybe their species was doomed but there were still transmission from generation to another, so all was not lost.
He looked at the sorceress then. Yennefer was next to Geralt and she was clearly trying to keep it together but half way from being annoyed and amused by his boys' shenanigans. It was this moment he noticed the bard was missing. He was not there either the night before.
It was strange. It's been weeks since the ritual and his mental breakdown and since he seemed to have regained some composure.
Vesemir was not the happiest man to have strangers in his walls, especially humans. Old and painful memories put strong walls around his heart and he had a hard time to warm up. Ciri and Yennefer were easier to adopt because they adapted well to his world. The bard was too different but even if he was odd, Vesemir could tell he was a nice person overall. Probably too soft to stay with them but he was harming no one and he was important to Geralt, so his well being mattered to him too.
###
He waited until everyone was gone to speak to Geralt. Maybe he could tell him what was wrong.
- "Your bard didn't show up yesterday night and tonight. Is he OK ?"
- "You're right and I am worried. I thought he was going better but suddenly he skipped a few lunches. And I can tell he is drinking again. His room smells like alcohol. I tried to speak to him but he eluded."
- "And Yennefer ? Does she know ?"
- "Well maybe. I don't know. For the moment we are navigating strange waters together. We are focused on us and Ciri. Maybe I should…"
- "I'll do it."
- "Thanks, Vesemir. But don't let me out of it. I ignored Jaskier for too long. I don't want to make the same mistakes."
Vesemir patted Geralt's shoulder, promising him news.
###
The bard didn't show up for breakfast either. Vesemir shared a concerned look with Geralt before quitting the table. He took some porridge in a bowl and a fruit from the kitchen before taking the direction of the rooms. A residual smell of alcohol was floating in the air when he arrived at Jaskier's room. Geralt was right, the bard was drinking again. Vesemir grimaced.
He knocked at the door once. But after a few long seconds with no response, he tried louder, announcing his presence this time. Still nothing. The lack of response was making him nervous, so he opened the door, worried that the bard was sick or something. But he found no-one. Strangely, the alcohol smell was somehow lighter inside. Maybe the big hole in the wall was making enough aeration. The room was so cool. Why did the bard choose this place ? There were several other empty rooms in the fortress.
He shook his head sadly. He had first to find him to expect an answer. He looked everywhere inside, asked his boys if they saw him, but they didn't pay attention. He began to worry, scared that Jaskier had simply left. He was not prepared for the cold of the mountains.
He got out in the courtyard where Geralt and Yennefer were trying to teach Ciri some basic magic. He was about to interrupt them to announce the bard's disappearance when a glimpse of a dark red thing caught his eyes at the top of the west tower. He rushed back inside. Fortunately he knew the fortress like the back of his hand and used every shortcut to get to the top faster. He found the bard sitting on the parapet, writing something on some paper. He had a pretty nice idea where he found the material. He will have to have a chat with him afterwards. The guy was growing a habit to steal things.
Jaskier looked up at him, surprised. Then with a glimpse of shame in his eyes.
- "What are you doing there ?" Asked Vesemir.
- "Is this place forbidden too ?" The old man gave him a crooked smile. The bard knew he was caught.
- "No… this is just that…" His smile vanished as he noticed the bottle of wine, at the young man's side. "We didn't see you much at the diner lately and this morning also. I thought you may be sick or…"
- "Or doing something stupid on the top of a tower ?"
- "Well…" The old witcher looked at the bottle more obviously. "Prove me wrong then." Jaskier sighed.
- "Don't worry, I replaced my heart with another liver a long time ago." He tried to joke but Vesemir didn't laugh. "I don't want to seem ungrateful but if you find a better remedy to stop feeling things, I am all ears."
- "I thought you were finally doing well here." The bard let out a dry laugh.
- "Sure…"
- "Don't be sardonic with me, boy. Talk." Jaskier looked down in defeat. He took time to answer back though.
- "I asked Yennefer for some advice for a problem I have… with my hand." He added after a long time. "... and she told me she couldn't do anything. The problem is that it will impair my capacity to play the luth. So…"
- "But why are you brooding alone at the top of a tower ?"
- "I am already a burden, I know this. I didn't want Geralt to see me going back into dark places… I…"
- "You chose to skip eating instead and run into alcohol. You're stealing me by the way."
Jaskier seemed to be ashamed a little bit but the sadness overcame him quickly. He twisted his back a few seconds to look at Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri in the courtyard underneath and then turned to him again.
- "Geralt told me once that witchers never retire, they die first. I mocked him because to me it was nonsense. I was around twenty back then. Young and carefree… But I understand now that when you find your purpose and it is somehow taken from you, your life ends. And death is better than leaving the hell of wandering aimlessly."
- "And what was your purpose ?" Vesemir squinted while asking. He didn't like where the conversation was going.
- "Entertain. Move people. Share emotions through stories and poetry." Jaskier looked down again. "Make a difference in my friend's life. Change people's mind about differences. Make them tolerant. Love…"
- "You can still sing. You have a beautiful voice. The thing you did with the wolves, it was amazing. You can still be a brilliant bard." Vesemir was sincere but Jaskier scoffed dryly.
- "I was in trance and in emotional distress. It's like you are cornered and you fight with desperate energy to survive an enemy bigger than you. It is more like the last push before dying. But overall you are right, I could pay a musician to play for me but, tell me, if you couldn't lift your sword would you pay someone to do it for you on a hunt, hmm ?" The old man understood. "You don't have to answer that." Added quickly Jaskier. "Geralt did. Witchers don't retire… right ? Let's say it's the same for bards. Or at least me."
Vesemir nodded slowly. The bard had his way with words.
- "So tell me, what happened to your hand ?" He asked softly. Jaskier suddenly smelled of fear.
- "I… There was a fire mage… he wanted to know where Kaer Morhen was… let's say he didn't ask politely. Yennefer saved me but he burnt my hand. I healed on the surface but there are lasting internal damages apparently, that's why it hurts so much sometimes. Yennefer told me that what fire magic takes it never gives back. She was incredibly lucky to get access to her chaos back, herself. Fire magic consumes…"
The old man felt his hand itch. He too had his hands burnt. Even with the fast healing capabilities of witchers, he still had pain in his joints. He could still use a sword though without much problem thanks to the salve he was applying regularly.
- "Wait a minute !" Vesemir was suddenly connecting dots. "A fire mage ? With a scar on his face ?"
- "Probably. Yennefer tricked him and his spell backfired at his face. Why ?"
- "He did come here… " He growled.
Jaskier's fear intensified, but the old witcher didn't care. He was feeling anger growing in his guts. He ignored the concerned look of the bard. He could be tolerant, he could make an effort for Geralt to accept his strange human friend, but THIS was not acceptable. Too many mistakes were made. How could Geralt tell the location of Kaer Morhen to a bard singing his tales ? Of course he would lead to catastrophes.
- "I didn't speak. I swear…"
Jaskier understood right away what he was implying.
- "Really ? And how did he find this place then ?"
- "I… I don't know…"
- "Did you sing about it ?"
The bard looked outrage by his assumption. He got on his feet to confront him. He was unsteady due to the alcohol he had drunk but anger was replacing fear in his scent. Visibly he pushed him too hard.
- "Yes I did sing about it !" He replied with sassiness. "But if that was enough the psycho wouldn't have tortured me all night long to get the precise location. And - I - didn't - tell - him !"
- "All night... And you didn't tell anything. Please. Don't fantasize your life to help you protect yourself from the terrible mistake you made."
For a brief moment, the old witcher saw hatred in the man's eyes. The glimpse he saw in almost every human being. It was enough for him. This human was psychologically too fragile to endure, Vesemir was sure of that. Human crumbliness had always been a problem. Humans… Anger changed into outrage. All of this had too much significance for him. He saved the last witcher boys from the raging crowd that was there to exterminate them. A human crowd of fanatics fuelled by lies and hatred. They lived and grew in the ruins of what they left behind. Those stones were so important. History was important. The fire mage could have brought more havoc than he did, but the fact that he found their hiding at all was enough. The old man put the bowl of porridge and the fruit on the parapet and simply turned heels without even a look at the drunken bard.
Geralt needed to have a good explanation for telling this human the location of their home and worst of it let him sing about it to the world. After the raids… he knew ! How could he ?
He went back to the courtyard where the trio was training and crossed his arms on his chest, waiting to be noticed. It didn't take much time.
- "Yes ?" Asked Geralt, puzzled by his attitude.
- "You told Jaskier about this place." He said in a low tone.
- "Yes ?"
- "He sang about it."
- "Probably. He sang about everything." He laughed. Yennefer and Ciri were listening a few steps behind.
- "One way or another your bard led the fire mage right here. And it makes you laugh ?" He growled, angry by his son's attitude.
- "What are you…"
Now Geralt seemed to understand that something was wrong. But his reaction took Vesemir by surprise. He was angry, not ashamed.
- "You both ! Please stop !" Yelled Yennefer, coming their way. "Jaskier didn't speak, Vesemir."
- "Hours of torture he confessed and you tell me he didn't speak ?" He spat. She looked sad.
- "I took too much time to save him without my magic, but I was hidden in the back room when he chose losing his fingers over betraying Geralt. I witnessed it, Vesemir. He didn't speak."
The White Wolf pinched his lips. Hearing this again was obviously painful. Vesemir was taken aback.
- "But how did that fire mage find this place then ?" Yennefer put a hand on his shoulder.
- "I don't know. But Jaskier is innocent. I assure you." She added.
- "He likes to fantasize a lot." Continued Geralt. "Jaskier knows what this place means to me. To us. He probably just made this place something magical or unrealistic just to have a better tale to tell."
Vesemir calmed down but he was confused. Having no real explanation for the fire mage's presence in his walls was harder than being angry at someone. He realized suddenly he just jumped on the occasion to have someone to blame for the events he was angry about and felt ashamed.
- "Where is he ? What did you tell him ?" Asked now a very worried Geralt.
- "He is… " He looked at the tower. The red patch was gone. "He was on the top of the west tower." Vesemir said.
Yennefer and Geralt ran past him. Ciri was looking at him with an undefined expression.
- "I am not proud of this." He muttered to her before turning heels and following the others.
###
The top of the tower was deserted. The bowl of porridge and the fruit was still on the parapet where he left them. The papers and the pen were on the ground with the empty bottle of wine.
- "Where can we find these ?" Yennefer asked, pointing at it.
- "The cellar is in the basement…" Vesemir answered softly. "Do you believe he is there ?"
- "The sadder Jaskier is, the drunker…" She confirmed.
###
Indeed, he was there, sitting in the dark at the table by the old alembics and barrels. Geralt threw Igni at the torches to which Jaskier flinched instantly but blocked the scream he was about to let escape. Vesemir felt bad. He understood now why the bard chose the coldest room. The poor guy was traumatized by fire and the witchers were all casting Igni to light things in the fortress. He chose to stay in the only room no-one wanted because of the hole and he hid his fear to everyone. Every puzzle piece was coming together and the picture was not a good one.
He had his reasons to be angry and suspicious but in the end he just had pain to an already hurt man. The breakdown was enough to warn him not to push further. But he did because he switched in his reasoning causes and consequences.
Yennefer approached the bard.
- "I knew we'll find you there."
- "Well… "
- "We have explained to Vesemir that the intrusion was not your fault. He understands now."
- "That's true. I am sorry."
- "Why didn't you believe me ? Why are the words of others more convincing ?"
The old man didn't reply. He couldn't tell this man that he had something against humans and he projected on him. Not now. So he chose silence which proved itself a wrong move again. The bard scent changed to a mix of pain and sorrow. With a large movement, he drank at the bottle he was holding.
- "You know this is not helping." Said Yennefer, trying to take his booze.
- "Actually it is." He slurred slightly while pushing the sorceress' hand.
- "This is not a good solution and…" Anger suddenly burst out of him like a volcano.
- "Then give me one !" Screamed suddenly the bard, lifting the bottle he had in hand and hitting it full force on the table.
Unfortunately the bottle shattered in his hand, dispersing shards of glass around. The man screamed again, but from pain this time, as a large piece embedded itself in his palm. It went through and through.
- "Idiot !" Said Yennefer slapping him.
Jaskier looked back at her, tears in the eyes, but he was not confused. She took his injured hand in hers and slowly removed the shard while chanting in elder. The torn skin and muscles rebuilt themself until just a thin scar and the blood was left. He clenched teeth during the process but no sound escaped his lips. The alcohol surely helped but Vesemir knew how painful it was and mentally applauded his resilience.
Yes, maybe he could have endured, after all… The old man had a poor opinion of him because of his breakdown, but that too was unfair.
- "That you can heal." The bard said very calmly but bitter.
- "I don't make the laws of chaos, Jaskier. I am sorry I can't heal you more."
- "We'll leave this place soon." Simply said Geralt.
As the White Wolf was about to quit the room, Vesemir threw a soft "sorry". But the young witcher didn't stop. The old man looked at the ground and sighed.
- "I am taking him back to his room." Said Yennefer without animosity. She was just sad and tired. He nodded.
Then the sorceress helped Jaskier to get on his feet and they left too. He was alone in the cellar, looking at shards of glass in a wine puddle. On the table was the bloody piece that was embedded in the bard's hand.
- "Are you OK ?" Ciri's voice cut his thoughts. She had followed them. He smiled at her.
- "Not really. I made too many mistakes lately. This last one is…" he sighed. "I don't know what to do."
- "Well, do what you do best. Be a father." She smiled. "You raised a lot of young boys into witchers. You've been like a grandpa to me when I first came here with Geralt."
- "He is different."
- "Not so much. He is willing to integrate our family because he loves Geralt. I know he is an adult but overall he is a lost child, very much like we all are."
- "I am not sure he will want to speak to me after all this. He has good reasons to be upset with me. You know Ciri, some wounds of the past change the vision you may have about someone. I have lived with that for so long. I didn't get out into the world for so long too. I am not as open minded as I could have been decades and decades ago. It's hard for me to adapt and accept someone as he is. This led to what happened..."
The young girl came closer to the table and took the bloody shard and produced it in front of him.
- "Then search for what you have in common. Blood and wine are two very different things, yet they are red liquids." She put the piece of glass down. "Also this could have been avoided if Geralt or Yennefer or even me explained what happened to him."
- "You knew ?"
- "Before he broke down at the cave. The night after… Voleth Meir possessed me. I couldn't sleep. He was crying and pleading Yennefer to magically suppress his feelings. She explained to me some of it. But after he crashed, I don't know why everyone kept things secret."
- "Well, maybe he asked for some privacy. Speaking about trauma isn't easy. Right ?"
Vesemir glanced at her. She smiled shyly.
- "Indeed. But I learnt that keeping what was scaring me secret wasn't good for me or the people I cherish. I want to share my experience."
- "You're a nice person." He put his hand on her head and stroked her hair gently. "Well go back with the others. I'm gonna clean this mess."
Ciri left and the old man sat where Jaskier was. He took the bloody shard and lifted it to his eyes.
- "What do we have in common, bard ?" He muttered to himself.
###
Geralt had planned to leave within a week. Everyone was on a rush and extremely busy. But Vesemir found some time to speak with him.
- "I'm not that mad at you." Said the younger witcher. "But we can't stay. Not only for Jaskier's sake, but for all of us. Destiny has plans for Ciri and she will need Yennefer and I, united. We have some work to do to repair what was broken between us. We have to be prepared and strong for the child. And we have to keep moving, because where we settle death follows. Going is also a way to protect you and my brothers."
- "I understand…"
Vesemir didn't protest. He knew Geralt was doing the right thing, even if it hurt him to get separated again. This coming goodbye sounded like farewell. He wasn't ready to deal with it. This was something he would probably bury until the fortress emptied as his sons would return hunting.
- "The bard. How is he going ? He is still skipping lunches."
- "He doesn't want to leave his room. We give him food there. Apart from that, he is doing as fine as he can be. He's been sober lately and he keeps himself busy writing. This is a good thing I guess."
- "Do you think he will accept to talk to me?"
- "I don't know. You can try. But please, don't upset him…"
Vesemir smiled genuinely and patted his shoulder.
- "I am not planning on doing such a thing again."
###
Two days before the departure, Vesemir decided to meet Jaskier. He knocked twice at the door.
- "Yes ?" He heard the muffled reply.
- "I know you probably don't want to see me but I would like to talk to you and properly apologize." He said.
A long moment of silence welcomed him. The old man sighed and was about to leave when the door opened. The bard didn't look at him in the eyes. He was enveloped in a thick fur cover. The room was so cold. Jaskier just stepped back inside and let him enter. He sat on his bed where lied several pieces of paper full of text. Vesemir closed the door behind him and sat by the bed's foot.
- "Thank you for letting me in."
- "This is your place."
The bard still wasn't looking at him. He took out of his pocket the bloody shard of bottle and put it on the bed's cover. The young man side looked at it and frowned.
- "Why have you kept this thing ? This is weird."
- "Because a little princess told me something very wise that day." Jaskier finally looked up and their eyes met. "You probably know that I don't really like humans." He nodded slowly. "This is not against you. This is just history and very bad memories."
- "Humans destroyed this place and travelling with Geralt I realized how much hatred is put in our heart against other species. I can understand your feelings." Vesemir smiled sadly.
- "Yeah. But that doesn't excuse me. Because I have resentment, I judged you the very moment you said something that reminded me why I don't trust humans. I just put aside everything I knew you did for my son and just let anger speak."
- "Geralt spoke about me ?" Asked the bard, intrigued.
- "Yes. To be fair. The first winter he came back here after you two met, he didn't portray you in a good light. And I have the feeling that he tried very hard to get rid of you until he gave up." He replied with a crooked smile.
Jaskier laughed slightly. Seeing a glimpse of joy on the bard's face made the old man happy. He continued on a more serious note though.
- "Geralt has always been different."
- "Yeah." Jaskier said, a bit dreamy.
- "No-one wants to become a witcher but Geralt maybe more than others. He hated his condition for a long time until he accepted his fate. I know he respects me and he considers me as a father but deep down there still is some loathing. Yet he is the one that always goes by the rules and respects traditions the most. I am so proud of the warrior he became. But he is a lonely soul. He has a kind of hedgehog syndrome. As the years went by he shielded himself more and more, until he became the Butcher of Blaviken and it worsened. When he met you he was at a very low point in his life. You saved him from himself. From locking himself into solitude. You forced your way in his life but it was for his own good in the end. No one has reached him the way you did all those years. To the point that your life mattered as much as one of ours. And for a witcher it's a lot… you know, one of the reasons you're all leaving is to protect you… from me." Jaskier looked down again.
- "It meant a lot to me to be part of his world… I sincerely wished I could be part of your family."
- "Why us ? We are mutants. We are monsters created to hunt other monsters." Jaskier smiled softly.
- "You are a pretty perceptive man, so you probably guessed my feelings for Geralt…" Vesemir nodded.
- "But…"
- "No buts. This is as simple as that. Love drives my life."
- "I don't understand."
- "Me neither." Jaskier laughed genuinely.
The old man just felt his heart bloom. He remembered suddenly what Geralt said about the bard when he kind of warmed up to him. He has an inextinguishable fire burning inside of him. He understood now what his son meant. That man was deeply hurt and damaged but he was keeping his internal light going. He shined through the dark. Geralt was right to protect him because how long could he keep going that way ?
As Vesemir was lost in his thoughts, Jaskier continued.
- "Geralt turned into my muse very early on. I was so young when we met and I didn't have much experience in musing. So I couldn't imagine how deep it would go… Geralt and I are very different but we have in common to hate the path others have chosen for us."
- "Your path ?"
- "I was meant to be a court bard and live in the highest spheres of human society. The seven liberal arts were forced into my being with a cane slapping my back. I was a really reluctant student of the educational system I was forced into. Not that I didn't learn but everything was abstract until I fell in love for the first time. My very first muse forever blueprinted poetry and music inside my very being… It bloomed with Geralt. The more I lived with him, the more I loved him. The more I loved him, the more I got inspired, and the deeper went the muse. When he…"
The bard closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was reminding some things. Vesemir observed him. Pretty quickly he realized that he was just refraining himself from talking.
- "What are you trying not to say ?" He asked. Jaskier sighed.
- "Why are you really there ? You don't want my pathetic story."
- "As I said before you opened the door, I want to properly apologize."
- "I told you. I understand your resentment towards humans. It's OK."
- "Please let me do it my way."
- "Very well..."
- "Show me your palms."
The bard frowned and hesitated but he obeyed. Vesemir mentally saluted the trust he displayed. Then he pointed to the bloody shard of glass.
- "Ciri told me something very important using this. Blood and wine are two very different things, yet they are red liquids." He repeated.
- "Wha…"
- "You and I have nothing in common. This is what I thought. Because that resentment I have blinded me. But I understand your pain and the love you have for my son, even if partially. I can't promise you the kind of family you seek here. But I can make this place a safe place for you too." He saw tears forming at the bard's eyes. "It took me days to figure out how to help you properly and make amend. And searching for the answer I found what you and I have in common."
The old man put his hands the same way as the musician, next to his.
- "My hands were burnt too, by the same mage. My witcher condition made the healing process faster of course but Yennefer is right. What fire takes, it never gives back. It hurts badly too from time to time. So I made a salve to help with the pain and the stiffness. This is a witcher recipe but I figure how to make it human compatible. I don't think you would find an equivalent in towns, because everything that is fire magic related is forbidden, even remedies. Anyway… If you want, I can teach you how to make your own. It doesn't require a lot of ingredients or stuff. With Geralt's alchemist kit you will be able to prepare your own salves until you get your own material."
Without a warning the young man just dropped himself in his arms, hugging him. Jaskier was openly crying now, big sobs shaking his frame. But it was tears of joy. The first shock of surprise passed, Vesemir put his arms around him and hugged him back. .
- "It's alright, son. You will be fine." The old man said softly.
The end