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.

I put a lot of things in this one. Small easter eggs here and there 😋. The chapter runs over several days with snippets, so it's a bit of a fast forward, but I hope you'll like it anyway.

Chapter 6 - The rodents and the bird

Even if he didn't want to eat anything, his body claimed food with vengeance. The healing process was spectacularly efficient, as he could almost see the bruises fading hours after hours, but the strain was equally strong. The food that was given to him was barely enough. Yet he suspected that he had a preferential treatment as the judge needed him to heal fast and good. He was given three full meals that day. Except the one that was half spilled on the floor.

He took advantage of the fact that the guard went to take back the flatware just once to keep the first spoon that was given to him. He hid it under the bucket table. The guard didn't even notice his robbery. Jaskier was surely in a very bad state of mind but he was already planning some cunning plan to escape. Yeah with a spoon. Well… more or less. He had opened locks with stranger tools than a spoon before. This prison wasn't the best. The door seemed pretty normal so it wouldn't be too hard to open his cage.

In normal conditions he wouldn't even try but he feared the judge and his motivations. For quite some time now he knew that he couldn't count on anybody to help him. Yennefer coming back to save him from the psychopath was as far as lucky he could be. He had very little chance to have a fair trial and he had the feeling that was the last cage he would be able to free himself from, alone. He could almost feel the chains crawling from the dark to catch him. Once the judge would find the good angle he would be trapped for good.

This was his only motivation to get his strength back. Get out of here.

###

The day was fortunately calm. No-one came to interrogate him. No angry guard to harass him. He had the chance to really rest for the first time in four days of captivity. He woke up in the middle of the night, haunted by a nightmare but he was able to find his way back to reality easily. The fog on his brain had totally disappeared. That was the positive part. The less positive part was that he was still in a cage. And he hated cages.

A guard was snoring soundly in the corner, outside of his cell. He could see, his feet crossed on the table. That was a good moment to try the lock. He took his spare spoon hidden under the bucket and got on his feet. Well that was more tricky than he anticipated. Getting up was a challenge. Even if he ate and was lucid, the fast healing was still taking a lot of his stamina.

But he went to the door and fished the handle of the spoon into the lock from the outside. He couldn't see what he was doing but he moved his tool based on the sensations and the sound it made. That was an incredibly simple lock but one spoon was not enough. The mechanism needed at least one more held pressure. He took back his improvised tool and hid it under the bucket once more. Tomorrow I'll get another one and I'll be out in no time.

That was on this hopeful thought he went back to sleep.

###

The next day was as calm as the day before, and he was growing stronger but he realised that it would be hard to steal another spoon. This time the guard came into his cell directly after each meal. He would need some extra diversion to keep the precious instrument or try to get out during day time. He found pretty quickly that the second option was maybe the easiest to achieve, even if the escaping the building part could be more dangerous. But he will improvise, as always.

Having nothing else to do, he began to absently hum songs of his repertoire while the mice began to be his main distraction. He didn't even notice he was doing it at first. Music was a real part of his being, he never noticed when he was doing those kind of things. And it could go for literal hours. He was just lost in the moment, happy to feel almost normal. He was doing nothing but to keep his mind occupied with something else than fear.

It was several hours later that the guard hidden in the corner lost his temper. He vehemently asked him to shut up, which of course he didn't do. A few minutes later, the guard just left for quite some time to escape his annoying presence.

- "Well, that's interesting." He said looking back at the mice.

The little rodents had warmed a lot to his presence during the last two days. The fact that he had several meals a day was surely playing in his favor. But for him they were his light in the dark. Having some positive thoughts for two days in a row played on his mood also. He found glimpses of creativity sparkling in him. He named the female of the group Lilly and the other boy, Roger. Gordon was still the most adventurous one and his favorite. He let himself catch very quickly and even pet. They were obviously used to humans but he wondered why this one was so friendly with him.

Either way, the first time it happened, that simple interaction almost sent him to tears. Tears of joy. That small creature was such a comfort in his situation. Jaskier was very anxious about everything because he knew that time was playing against him and he had dark thoughts lurking from every corner of his distressed mind, from all the emotional wounds he suffered. Gordon was not a human, not even a cat or a dog, but he seemed to enjoy his singing and to know when he needed some distraction. And the manifestations of this approval were the cutest things he ever saw.

For a tiny and frightful animal he was very adventurous. He liked to explore. He made him even laugh when he ended almost trapped in his chest hair at one point and he had to fish him out of his shirt. But what he enjoyed the most was, while he was humming, the mouse sometimes just climbed on him and made himself a tiny furball on his belly. Like it was a safe place to be for him. Lilly and Roger went to explore his person a little bit but not this far. His boots or his coat were their favorite place to visit.

Jaskier was glad they were there.

###

Unfortunately the next day wasn't as smooth as he wished. If the first part was similar to the day before, it turned sour when the judge came back and asked the guards to leave the building for a few minutes. He gave him exactly two days before hell. He said that he managed to delay every expertise and any kind of trial, pulling some strings in both camps. He satisfied his first client, promising him to put him to the question, and the second one that he would stay in jail until they wanted him for their affairs.

- "You have an idea of who want to keep you alive, right ?" The judge said.

- "Maybe… But I don't understand why. And if that's the man, I find very stupid to lie to him. He is not known for his clemency."

- "Do you work for Dijkstra then ?" Asked clearly the man in robe this time.

- "No." Replied firmly Jaskier.

He was technically telling the truth. He was working for some secret entity. A hidden network that helped the elves. He had a good idea of who was partially giving money for it and he recognised shady figures but the spies of Dijkstra were just a link like he was into something bigger. He knew that somehow the chief of redanian intelligence was monitoring their activities but he had no idea how and how much he was involved. The only thing that mattered to him was what he was doing. Saving as many elves as he could. Doing something good. He didn't care if that meant that the king was betrayed by his own security chief. The man was a monster and…

- "Well I hope for your well-being that you are not. Because if that's the case, your position is way more complex than what you think. But what I can guarantee you is that you won't see the light for a very long time. See you soon, Sandpiper."

Jaskier's blood ran cold. He was not sure he hid his surprise and fear very well. Especially with the smirk the judge offered him. The man knew who he was. And he discovered that so easily. Obviously he found links that weren't meant to be found and was playing his dirty game with the politics. Jaskier knew exactly what kind of information the judge would want from him and feared the one that could be deduced. The man seemed not to have explored the witcher thread for the moment, but as soon as he would make the link between his first torture and his long going reputation of being the White Wolf bard, new horrors would fall upon him. That was certain.

- "May I ask why you are offering me two days ?" He dared to ask.

- "I have other things to do and I want you as good as new for what's to come. You will need all your strength, as no one would come to heal you this time."

A new smile. New shivers down his spine. The judge left and the guard came back a few minutes later. Jaskier just turned round and sat in his favorite place against the wall. He put his arms around his knees and dropped his head. There was a clear deadline now and he was frightened.

That evening even the fast healing strain couldn't make him eat anything. His mice just feast until the guard took back his almost untouched meal.

- "You should eat, you scum." The man said, kicking him in the boot to get a reaction from him. But Jaskier didn't move. "Well, maybe you're right. Less strength. Less stamina. Maybe you could free yourself faster dying." The guard laughed and left.

###

Even exhausted by the last drops of the elven magic healing his body, he couldn't sleep at all that night. His mind was already playing all sorts of scenarios. He was anticipating the blows, the broken bones, the slow and painful decay. The angst was building up a cage around his chest.

He waited for the guard to soundly fall asleep to move. He didn't want to be seen as frightened as he was by anyone. He knew that it wouldn't last anyway but wanted to preserve what was left of his dignity. He got up and turned by the window. He looked out for the first time since his was there. The view was uninteresting… as much anticipated. There was a big wall a few feet away. Just plain bricks. He pressed his head against the cold bars. On his right he could see a little opening and the sky. The angle was bad but he could still see the stars. He took a long breath. There was a mixture of pee and shit in the air, his own and others. He could smell a bad fish odor too. This part of the city was a mess.

He focused and smiled when he could distinguish, in the distance, the characteristic smell of the salt of the ocean. The stars progressively disappeared as the tears filled his eyes. Tears of nostalgia and tears from a very specific memory he wanted to bury forever. That was for those kind of weakness he didn't want to be seen.

- "Stupid arse…" he muttered, as his own words to Geralt resonated in his head. We could head to the coast. Get away for a while. He didn't want to descent once again in his brokenhearted memories but there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Almost six days without the tiniest drop of alcohol and no brain brain damages so send him randomly to oblivion. So he let himself fall into this too well known pit.

He didn't name the city, but his proposal to Geralt was to come here or nearby. He always loved the sea and he had a soft spot for this place, even if it was hard to explain why.

Oxenfurt was a strange pot-pourri of dirt of every kind and the most wonderful arts. His young years were linked to this city. He was a student here for many years. He was taught the finest arts under the menace of a cane that landed more often than not on his back, went to the most sordid places, encountered shady persons… It was not his best memories overall but there was one thing he definitely loved about this place. The ocean.

Oxenfurt was a big city sat over each side of an immense estuary but the eastern part was boarded by large beaches of white sand. He often skipped school and earned a few mistreatments for bad behavior to go there and feel free. He was like a seabird. He had always needed air and space. Even when he was a young boy.

Freedom had shaped his life in so many ways. It was the thing that made him that kid almost no professor could find a way to teach without using violence. The thing that made him cut almost every bridge with his noble kin. The thing that made him a one night lover for many… The thing that made him a wandering bard… And more…

The ocean was pure freedom… infinity. And it has the power to ground him in a way no other things could. The calming sound of the waves, the horizon. He didn't know what was magical about that. But every time he felt bad it was the place he wanted to be.

And on that stupid mountain, he wanted to open his shrine to Geralt. He understood he was feeling bad and maybe the sea could help him too. But then… huhu… his heart twisted painfully.

- "It's been two years… why does it still hurt that much ?" He muttered. "I'm a hopeless case."

Well he had an answer for that too. It was called muse. Losing a muse had always been heartbreakingly painful. And for long periods of time. But Geralt was the Muse with a capital M. Twenty two years being in his core. Twenty two years he made his blood sing. Twenty two years his heart was beating for him. More than half of his life. And his entire manhood years, to be fair. He was so young when he met him. A little bird with a fluttering heart.

Only the countess of Stael had been a match but it was different. It was mostly a carnal passion. Geralt was more than that. So his words dug a hole in his heart so big that his whole body felt a hollow shell. A shell that every single blow was menacing to break definitely. He'd been through a lot during the past two years. Yeah. And it would end in the worst way possible. Trapped and tortured till nothing was left of him.

He opened his eyes once more, trying to catch the stars, between his tears. All was blurry and unfocused. He pushed himself away from the restrained window and clenched the bars with both hands. He couldn't feel the cold metal in his right finger tips. He let a pathetic whimper escape his lips as the painful reminder that he probably lost his ability to play too made its way back in his mind.

He pulled with all his might against the bars. He wanted to break free. To flee. To fly away. To be the bird he's always been.

The thought strangely brought back some fire in his heart. Tomorrow would be his last chance to free himself. He would sing fierce and loud until the cage open or he would die trying.

You know what's coming next, but know this. This story doesn't end there, because for me there is more than one cage.

Additional notes:

I had rats as pets when I was young and my first one was quite wild. Her name was Smoothie and didn't like to be touched at all. So I taught her tricks and she had learnt to return to her cage when I asked her to. She was almost free otherwise. But one day, I had a very sad news and I was crying a lot. Smoothie got out her cage and came to me. She put herself on my lap and let herself pet. It was the first time and only time she let me do that. She comforted me doing the only thing she never allowed me to do. So that why I wrote Gordon doing this for Jaskier .

And of course I couldn't pass the little story Joey told many times about Gordon being trapped in his chest hair 😋

For the reccord, the fear of not being able to play while having lost sensation in fingers, I know that very well. I was a musician (not professional but it was a large part of my life) and I lost the use of my right arm for several months after an accident. It took me a year and a half to bring it back to "normal" but I still have nerves damages. The pain is what made me stop playing in the end because I finally adapted to not feel de cords correctly under my fingers, but while I couldn't feel anything that was my fear all along.

So I put a lot of that in Jaskier's despair. This persistent lack of sensation in his fingers is hurting him as much as every blows he endured because music is so important to him.

Last note. I have a hard time with the link between Jaskier and Dijkstra. In the books, it's clear that Jaskier knows he works for Dijkstra even if I don't understand his motivations for being a spy for him in the first place. To me it's a bit random even if I enjoy the development. In the series, the Sandpiper arc is filling the gaps for me but we don't know how much Jaskier's know about his "benefactor". So I made him partially know. Like he deduced it more than know. We'll see what happen later. So this story may be incorrect in regard of the next season.

That said. See you soon!