There is a light in the corner of a dark room, dipping and swaying around, pulsing to the beat of his heart harmonizing with the lancing pain in his head. Jaskier lays on his side helplessly watching it, his limbs lead weights at his sides. It feels so much like a nightmare, one of those horrible times just before a deep sleep where he can only watch as the shadows peel themselves from the walls, voice caught deep in his throat as they close in. Jaskier remembers asking Geralt about it before, half convinced that something so completely terrifying could only be the work of monsters or chaos. He'd been rewarded with a dry laugh.

"Sometimes, Bard, the mind creates monsters too."

He was right, in more ways than one.

Slowly, the pain grounds him, and his surroundings swim into focus. Starting with the sounds of buzzing flies and soft crying coming from somewhere behind him. He makes an effort to turn his head, gritting his teeth at the strain.

There is an intense smell of rotting meat that hits him at the same time that he finds himself staring straight into a pair of milky white eyes.

Fear floods through him like ice water, and gives him the strength to scramble backward, the heels of his boots catching in a puddle of congealed blood and dragging dark streaks across the dirt floor.

Jaskier gags, the world dipping viciously for a moment as he wrenches forward. He's seen death before, but the combination of the blow to his head and the unexpected proximity to a corpse leave him unable to stop his stomach from wrenching painfully. He turns to the side and pukes, coughing and spitting between heaves.

He sits panting for a second, one hand supporting his weight and the other wound around his aching abdomen. He shifts away from the mess, cringing when he accidentally puts weight on his bad ankle again.

"Augh! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Screw eloquence.

There is a limit to how much he can handle and this has passed the mark long ago.

Jaskier closes his eyes, taking a steadying breath before steeling himself and turning back towards the corpse.

He almost gags again, but forces himself to look.

It's a woman, laying on her side, sightless eyes wide open, skin gray, and lips blue. Her face is sunken and it's clear she's been dead for a while. Her long brown hair is loose from a once neat braid, her clothing ripped along the hem lines. She's hunched partially over a cloth sack, arm clutching it close even in death. Jaskier covers his mouth in horror at the realization that she's been partially dismembered, one leg cut off at the knee and chunks of flesh cut from the thigh, her torn and muddy skirt hiked up just far enough to reveal the bloody stump.

He feels like a vice is closing over his chest, and he starts to hyperventilate, once again fighting nausea and the growing ache in his head. Right as he's on the edge of full blown panic something stops him; the sound of a hiccuping cry in a shadowed corner of the room accompanied by a quiet mumble,

"Mama..."

Oh no. Jaskier whips his head up towards the noise. There, huddled together in the darkness, eyes fixed on the corpse and shaking, are two small children. From what he can see, there's a boy and a girl just a little bigger than him. She's curled over him protectively even as she trembles. Jaskier's heart clenches when he moves and she glares fiercely at him.

He can only imagine how terrified they must be, and it's in that moment that he finds his resolve. He's been around the horrors of the world, and if he can save these two lives from one, it will be worth it. He'll do everything in his power to see that they make it out of here, no matter the cost. He wouldn't be able to live with himself otherwise, or ever speak to Geralt again for that matter. So he pushes all of his fear and pain to the very back of his mind, running a hand down the side of his head with a wince, attempting to clear some of the drying blood from his temple. He then shrugs off his jacket and lays it over the woman. It's just big enough that it obscures the worst of her from view.

"Are-?" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "Are you hurt?"

He's not sure how to approach this but it's a better start than any. The smaller child jumps at his voice, apparently not having noticed his presence despite his dramatics earlier. He's obviously wary, and doesn't respond but neither does his sister, who is still glaring at him intensely. Their reactions don't deter Jaskier, he understands, so he slowly spreads his arms out, palms open as he continues,

"It's okay," It's not, "I know you have absolutely no reason to believe me right now, but I promise I am going to find us a way out of here."

He keeps his shoulders down, and projects his moments clearly, making sure to announce his intentions as he goes,

"Can I come over?"

The little girl pauses to think, looking down at her brother? for his reaction. He stares at Jaskier for a quiet moment, then nods warily. They must have seen him when he was dragged down to- wherever this is- as well. As unfortunate as that is, it helps. The boy's sister seems satisfied with his response and nods back up at Jaskier a moment later.

Jaskier stands, hands still splayed out, and steps carefully around the covered body.

"My name is Jaskier, and according to my friend, the only thing I'm good at hurting is people's ears. I'm a bard you see? Though personally, I think my voice is quite lovely."

He makes a point not to look at the jacket as he passes, wanting to shift their focus away from it for the time being. He stops when he's a couple of feet away, kneeling down to their level and ignoring the way his ankle protests at the movement. He gives them a moment, watching to see if he should give them more space but they just watch him.

He puts on a brave face and smiles.

"Now let's see about getting us out of here, hm?"

Author's note:

hooookay, so maybe got a little more graphic with the descriptions than I thought I would. I mean I left a warning in the notes of the previous chapter so-

Anyways, probably going to stick to 1K minimum chapter lengths, longer if the blocked scenes need it. I have diabolically come up with some more plot points to throw in, so we'll see how this pans out. Writing Jaskier interacting with children is also going to be fun I think, more fun if I hadn't just thrown in an unhealthy dose of trauma.