Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of the witcher. Those are property of Mr Sapkowski and I using Netflix series canon mixed with the books.

Warning : Description of burns, blood and body marks. Some violence (nothing too graphic). Mostly anxiety and depressive state. Swearing. Humiliation.

English isn't my native language so I apologise for bad spelling and grammar.

This story I had in store for months. BO has somehow unblocked the turning point. Initially, I wrote this because I was frustrated that Jaskier is thrown to a situation to another by the main characters while his traumas are never addressed. He says things, we see him struggle but the other characters don't care much or leave him pretty much hanging. Yennefer showed some empathy though.

Anyway, this fic won't resolve his traumas but this is my go on how he could have bounce back and find the light in him after the torture and being sent in prison. So things are going to be darker before he finds the light.

As the passing time is one thing that is too often unclear in the show, I'll consider that Jaskier has spent several days in jail. That said, you understand that I won't change the events as they were shown in the series, but only fill some gaps.

Chapter 1 - Day one - Dignity

No smile nor politeness would save him from being put in jail this time. The guards that found him called those still inside of the brothel and soon enough the iron manacles that were destined to Yennefer were at his own wrists.

- "Hey, Jaskier! Pretty boy ! What happened to your face ?" Shouted a prostitute coming back with a client to the house.

He didn't reply, but greeted her with a crisped smile. He was known at the brothel as he was a regular client. Rose was her name. He liked her but right now he would have preferred her to be silent. As he feared, his name alerted one of the guards.

- "Jaskier? Jaskier? I know that name." He said out loud while another was turning the key to lock the iron bracelets. "Hey, you're the bard!" He added, suddenly remembering who he was. "It seems that we have quite a celebrity here." He laughed, poking at his colleague. "All perverted. I always say." He spat at his feet.

Jaskier kept his lips sealed. Something inside of him was warning him not to try anything funny with those guys, especially this one. He was in no shape to endure new violence. And by the look of it, he was just waiting anything he would take as provocation to kick.

Jaskier was pushed forward unceremoniously in place of being told to move and escorted by the four guards through the city. People looked at him strangely. Of course they would. His name was screamed out loud, he was known, his face was a bloody mess, and he was arrested in front of the brothel...

Well, the brothel itself was not the problem. It was publicly known that he liked fleshed pleasures... a little bit too much maybe. But to be dragged around visibly beaten was not a pleasant situation, as he was caught in front of the building after that wild run in the streets of the city, with a fugitive Yennefer arrested in the very same brothel, while calling her name. That was an unfortunate set of circumstances that would be hard to justify. For the moment, the guards were probably thinking he was just a pervert trying to catch some flesh but he was playing hide and seek with the authorities a little bit too much as the Sandpipers, so if he didn't keep low profile, some connections could probably be made in the few next days.

After a few minutes of walk, he noticed that they were not heading to the prison at all. First he looked around in confusion.

- "Where are we going ?" He asked eventually. "I thought that ..." He was cut by a sudden kick to the chest with the haft of a spear. He doubled over, wheezing.

He had received so many blows during the night. This one was not the worst but as he feared he couldn't take more. His legs threatened to give out but the guard hauled him back up and forced him to move forward again.

Apparently he was not in his best luck. His body seemed to remember suddenly all the abuses from the preceding hours. The adrenalin that fuelled his system during the escape had run out and he was weakening by the minutes. He find it very difficult to resume walking and, unfortunately, the guard just wanted to humiliate him, so they did the grand tour to go to the ridiculously tiny prison from this part of the city.

He tried the best he could to hide the growing limp to his left leg and appear a bit less miserable than he felt.

As they went through the market, things worsened. He felt some heavy looks on him and sometimes he could hear his name whispered in a bad way. This was bad. Rumours were always bad. This was going to reach the wrong ears too fast. Why that man was so kin to destroy his career.

His career… He almost laughed at himself. Did he truly think about that, now ? The multiple hits to his head must have damaged his brain badly... His lute was shattered, and even if the instrument could be replaced in a way, he wasn't even sure that he could play again. The burns on his right hand could be the end of it. Simple as that. He felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest. No music. No bard. No Jaskier. He was dead on his legs. He tried his best to cast this dark thought out of his mind but the heat and the pain in his fingers had the opposite effect and anchored this idea in his very being.

When they finally reach the prison after what he thought was an eternity, he was just fighting with himself to keep his composure. He had very little energy left. The long walk had finally drained everything he had.

- "I hope you enjoyed your visit." Laughed the guard. "Now this is your royal suite, perverted asshole." He added angrily.

This guy had something against artists it would seem. In the back of his mind Jaskier had some slappy replies for him, but right now he didn't want to fight with an idiot. This guy could be brutal and he didn't need more of a beating. He just wanted to be left alone.

The only cell of the barrackment was empty. At least he wouldn't have to share, he thought.

- "Here is your king size bed and your in suite bathroom." Said the guard, pointing respectively at a patch of hay in the corner, two empty buckets, and one pitcher full of water.

The manacles were put off his wrists. The guard pushed him inside. The bard had to repress a painful moan as it jolted his bruised ribs and his recalcitrant leg. The door closed behind him with a loud and sinister metallic clunk.

- "We'll be back later for the interrogatory."

The words sent panic shivers through his spine. Oxenfurt was not a really safe place any more and the militia were not very respectful of the law if they already thought you were guilty. He had very little hope that those guards would follow the legal procedures and it meant that he could be there for a long time or simply bad things...

Jaskier sighed in defeat and limped to the pack of hay. He hissed as he sat on it. It was basically just a tiny layer over the ground and it was almost like seating on the floor directly, but it would cut a bit of the cold from the humid ground. The ample movement to reach the bottom was too much for him and left him panting and sweating profusely. The rush of adrenaline had long passed now and the pain was running back with vengeance in his battered body. The psycho mage had pummelled him pretty bad.

He massaged his leg with his good hand while he was catching his breath. He knew that was the less severe of his wounds but this was the only thing he had some control over. His limp was just the result of having to run with a strained body, after hours of being immobilized. The long walk simply accentuated it. The muscles were just sore. The rest wasn't directly life threatening either but...

He didn't want to but he had to, so he looked at his right hand. This was life threatening for him... Dark patches decorated it where the fire caught his flesh. But the worse was under. Two of his fingers were burnt pretty badly. With less extends, his thumb and a part of his palm was also touched. Yennefer had maybe come just in time to save his hand but he wasn't sure any more. With luck, even if the skin was all dark and red, the deep tissues weren't touched. Did I have the right to hope? He thought.

His life had been shit since… It took all his mental energy to block the memory. But, as much as he needed to, he never could cast Geralt out. So his tired mind replayed it all. The witcher roaring at him how much he wanted him to disappear from his life. He was haunted by it. Even two years later he couldn't heal his broken heart. Booze was the only thing that kept him going. Now he was dangerously sober and every dark thought had somehow a better grip on him.

A wet laugh escaped from his throat. Maybe it was it. Geralt's greatest wish could be soon granted. It would the best it could do for him, right ? Cease to exist...

He mentally battled against himself to keep some light in his heart. Hope. Give it a try, Jask...

He drank some water from the pot near him then plunged his hand in it to let the cold anaesthetize the persisting pain. Then he rubbed slowly his fingers with his thumb. They were still flexible but he didn't feel anything. That was magical fire after all... Real fire would have been terrible too but magical could do more damages. And this was the proof. Even for the short among of time his fingers were exposed to the magic, the consequences were already bad. The psycho had aimed to cause what would hurt him the most… Tears wetted his eyes in an instant and he let them silently roll on his cheeks.

You can't play without feeling the cords. You will adjust. It will never be the same. You'll manage. This is the end. No !

He put his hand out of the water and looked through the tears at the red inflamed skin.

- "I had burnt for the memories of you..." He whispered. "Wherever you are, I hope it was worth it."

He slowly laid down on the hay in defeat and let the pain in his heart engulf him. His exhausted body and mind just shut down. It took only a few minutes to send him out of this world, in a dreamless sleep.

Well if only…

This is it for today. I hhope Jaskier's internal battle were clear to read.

See you soon.