Jaskier woke up with a terrible headache in the softest bed he had ever been in. His first thought was to just enjoy it for a bit longer, but he made the mistake of opening his eyes. He froze when he saw the other person in the bed. The worst thing in the world happened. He was lying next to Yennefer of Vengerberg, and it looked like she was naked under the covers.

"Tell me it's a nightmare," he moaned before he tried to pull the covers even higher to hide himself.

"One day, you'll listen to me when I tell you not to get another glass of wine," Geis scolded him quietly.

Jaskier was tempted to knock her out with his pillow but was too afraid the witch beside him would wake up. He began to get out of bed and froze.

"Tell me I'm not naked in Yennefer's bed next to Yennefer's naked body, please."

"I would tell you, but I'm trying to get over it myself."

They were whispering, but it was enough to wake Yennefer. She turned around, grumbling and stretching in her sleep. As it slid, the silky blanket revealed more of her body. One thing for sure, even if thinking about it hurt, she was absolutely gorgeous. He had never looked so beautiful when he woke.

"Do not imagine things, Jaskier," she yawned. "I have too much self-esteem to sleep with you, even after drinking so many glasses of wine. I must say, you can hold your drink. Traveling with Geralt must have immunized your throat and stomach."

"And being yourself must mean your heart dried a long time ago, but who I am to point out the obvious?"

A vicious smile was her only answer. The smile didn't reach her eyes, but she took great care to show off her curves, especially her hips. Jaskier rolled his eyes.

"I'm not Geralt. You won't seduce me like that."

Yennefer raised an amused eyebrow as she gathered her clothes from the floor."

"Is that so? Considering the compliments you gave me last night, I think it would take little effort on my part."

Jaskier held back all the insults rising to his lips, but only because of Geis's worried gaze. She was so worried that her feathers were all ruffled and she didn't take her eyes off Dorcha. It was a good thing the other daemon was a small bird. If he was a feline or an ape, he would probably have given them a look menacing enough to terrify an entire kingdom.

Details of the previous day came back to Jaskier's mind. The conversation with Yennefer. The torture she and Dorcha had been through. What he had seen in the mountains. Geralt, who hadn't bothered to show up in Oxenfurt. Had they really consumed as much alcohol as he remembered drinking? If so, it was a miracle he could stand up and think. His head should hurt more. Something told him Yennefer had something to do with it, but he held his tongue, got out of bed, wrapped in the sheet, to get his clothes rolled up in a sheet. His clothes were rolled up in a ball on the other side of the room. In silence, he got dressed, relieved that Yennefer was doing the same. He hopped her head banged as much as his. After all, she had drunk as much as him, or close to it.

His memories of the hours after Yennefer told him that Geralt had abandoned him were still hazy. Somewhere between the fifth and tenth drink, he had started to cry. Yennefer too. He couldn't remember who cried first, or how many drinks they had when they sat on the rug in front of the fireplace, listing Geralt's flaws. Eating sweets while crying on Yennefer of Vengerberg's shoulder before throwing orange peels in the fire to cheer them up was by far the craziest thing he ever was a part of. He even remembered a compliment or two she gave him. Yennefer, complimenting him! The world must be dying.

"Tell me I have dedicated no love songs to her," he whispered to Geis.

She chuckled.

"If you did, you deserve the humiliation you will suffer when everyone learns about it. Don't say that I didn't try to stop you."

"That's not an answer."

"Next time we see Geralt, I'll peck his eyes. It's his fault we're here. That'll teach him."

"Don't do that, please. I like his eyes."

"Too much for your own good. Sometimes I wonder what you find in him, and when I say sometimes, I mean all the time."

Dorcha snickered from the other side of the room, startling Jaskier. He hadn't realized they were being watched. The magpie was nowhere in sight when he woke up and he hadn't heard him come into the room. Damn bird. Damn Yennefer.

The witch was ready now, perfectly dressed, her hair done beautifully. She must have used magic when he turned his back. It was unfair. Jaskier had to do tremendous efforts to tame his hair each morning. How could he compare? With a little luck, fate had given her a rattling voice in compensation.

When she saw he hadn't even finished buttoning up his shirt, the witch clicked her tongue.

"Hurry a bit, would you?"

"Are you in such a hurry to kick me out?"

"Don't be silly. Hurry! The lunch will be ready when you are, but if we don't hurry, we'll miss our chance."

Jaskier had no idea what she was talking about and it showed on his face. From his perch, Dorcha chucked.

"While you manage him, I'll scout."

The bird swooped in and disappeared into a tiny portal. Yennefer turned her full attention toward Jaskier.

"Do not tell me you drank so much yesterday that you forgot our plans. Do you remember anything?"

Jaskier remembered seeing her cry, but wisely kept that information to himself. The sorceress would cook his balls in front of him if he ever said it out loud, no doubt. Still not remembering, he looked away guiltily. Yennefer rolled her eyes and raised her hand.

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother. Hurry up."

She left the room, her dress sliding dramatically behind her. This time, Jaskier obeyed and dressed himself promptly. He was at least as curious as he was hungry. After a few moments, he looked in a mirror to make sure he was presentable enough and left Yennefer's room with something like relief. The living room from the day before was an instructive seeing, with all those empty bottles. Jaskier ignored them and only took the time to pick up his lute and sheet music before rushing out to the kitchen and all these wonderful smells.

He understood what the trap was too late. On the table, there was only a small plate with a tiny fried egg and some breadcrumbs on it. It was all he would eat for now. Standing by the window, looking thrilled with herself, Yennefer finished her pastry. The delicious smell was of a magical nature.

"Hurry up, we've wasted enough time."

Jaskier sat down and ate the meager meal she provided him, hoping he would get some answers at last.

Jaskier felt sick after going through Yennefer's portal, which she summoned before he finished his meal. Right now, Jaskier agreed with Geralt. Portals were an abomination. Geis couldn't even get off the ground. Jaskier had to put her on her shoulder. She was shivering in his hands.

Yennefer looked annoyed that they were wasting her time again. Jaskier would gladly have soiled her shoes, but it was probably for the best to keep his food inside and let her curse in peace. He liked to live, after all. Instead, he sat up, gently stroking Geis' feathers and looked around.

They were, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. Mountains on all sides, torrents far below them, mist clinging to the peaks. It had everything, except for human life. The only clue of their presence in the mountains was the narrow cliff-side path where they stood. There was no animal life either, not a single plant.

"I've gone with Geralt to some sinister places, but this is a new low. Where are we?"

"Deep in the realm of Aedirn."

Aedir, capital Vengerberg. Yennefer's homeland, as far as a sorceress has a homeland. Jaskier had been there several times before, with or without Geralt, but never so far in the mountains.

"What are we doing there? By the way, with how much drink I had yesterday, consider I forgot everything that was said between us and half of the past week. Please, please, start from the beginning. I would greatly appreciate it."

"We're looking for Geralt. Let's go."

Jaskier could do nothing except follow her. They stood in a labyrinth of stone and mountains he would never exit alone. On the other hand, Yennefer seemed to know exactly where she was going. All roads looked the same to Jaskier. Sometimes they crossed other mountain paths going up to the peaks or down in the valley, but Yennefer always knew her direction. Jaskier was sweating profusely, just trying to keep up. More than once, he had to pause to wipe his forehead.

"Look up", Geis whispered, still leaning on his shoulder.

Jaskier did and found that the sky was not as lifeless as he had thought. High in the sky, a tiny bird hovered in circles above them. Sometimes, it darted forward and waited for them. It was Dorcha, showing Yennefer the way. Interesting.

They walked for an hour or two, but the landscape never changed. It was always the same mountains, the same torrents, the same absence of life. Finally, Yennefer chose a large stone and sat on it as if it was a throne. She held out her hand in front of her. Two apples appeared. One she ate, the other she tossed at Jaskier as if only noticing he was still there.

"Geralt is an idiot," she said.

"You're saying evidence recognized by everyone who knows him from the borders of Nilfgaard to the mountains of Poviss."

Warily, he bit into the apple. It was good.

"A damn foul with the emotional maturity of an oyster," she said.

Also true. Jaskier chuckled, but not just because he agreed with her. If Geralt had the emotional maturity of an oyster, then Yennefer and Jaskier weren't any better. The difference between Yennefer and Jaskier was that Yennefer was like a nettle bush, and Jaskier was like a tadpole. Or something like that.

"He's worse," Geis muttered in his collar. Yennefer snorted.

"He always thinks he must act dramatically. It is unbearable sometimes. His need to sacrifice himself..."

"His need to always be unhappy, even when he could easily be..."

"And so full of himself!"

They exchanged a knowing smile, probably for the first time ever. Jaskier hoped it was the last. Agreeing with Yennefer left an unpleasant taste in the mouth.

The woman looked up at the sky and stood up, dusting off her dress.

"Let's go. It's not very far."

Dorcha was nowhere in sight, but it probably didn't stop there from communicating. Funny. Jaskier felt sorry for them, for what happened to them and he wanted to throw Aretuza to the bottom of the sea, but he also envied them. He would love to communicate with Geis as Yennefer and Dorcha did.

Yennefer's daemon guided them to a scene of massacre. There were no other words. Seven, maybe eight harpy corpses lay there. A witcher had done that. It was clear from the wounds, all coming from a very sharp sword. From the remains of a campfire, Geralt had waited part of the night, meditating and waiting for the harpies to arrive. The ashes were cold, the harpies stiff. It happened two nights before. Eyes glued to the ground, Jaskier looked for more clues, but Geis found what he was looking for first: small drops of blood at regular intervals. Geralt was bleeding when he left. Not much, yes, but it was still worrying.

"The absolute moron," he grumbled.

"Is he, now?"

Yennefer's tone was falsely cheerful, but her anger rivaled the one Jaskier felt. They both knew Geralt should have tended to his wound here right after the fight. He didn't, because obviously he was a fool who thought he deserved to suffer. Geis dug her claws deep enough in his doublet for him to feel them. Between the four of them, Jaskier wasn't giving much of Geralt's skin when they found him.

"What makes him think he can do that and not hurt people who love him?" Geis asked.

"It's Geralt."

"Yes, it's Geralt," Yennefer sniffed with disdain. "Tell me, did you ever show disgust at his lack of a daemon or did something that might make him think you're afraid of him?"

"Never."

"Obviously. You love him too much for that, or you are stupid enough to not care. But did he ever ask how you felt about it? Never. Did he ever look at you closely enough to understand what your enamored looks might mean? Nooo. The damn foul indeed."

Jaskier couldn't hold back his smile any longer.

"Yennefer of Vengerberg who gets angry for me. I have seen it all."

She glared at him, but he took his hat off to her in response. Jaskier wasn't afraid of her now. He never would be after today.

"Are you too dumb to understand what this means?"

"Not at all, my lady," he answered with an indifference he was far from feeling. "Geralt felt unloved and unaccepted because he had no daemon, so he decided to disappear in one last fight, in the middle of nowhere, of course. He wants to be sure no one will ever find his remains because he thinks he knows better than anyone. He knows people care about him but he refuses to see it. He thinks we'll be glad to no longer have to pretend. Bullshit. I bet he's been brooding all winter, tormenting himself again and again until he truly believed we were better off without him. Oh yes, I understand that. But I'm like Geralt, I prefer to not think about difficult things sometime. It's easier to wonder about us being almost friends, you and me. It's more fun and a hundred times less painful."

His voice nearly broke. Geis finished his idea for him.

"Breaking our hearts and getting killed in the middle of nowhere! That's so much like Geralt, it is kind of funny. How can a man be so blind to people's feelings? Jaskier, you should have listened to my advice and slipped into his bed naked if you wanted him to understand."

She had nerves. Geis was the one to prevent him from doing so several times by reminding him Geralt was a witcher and would react violently to any kind of intrusion.

"Brilliant plan," Yennefer sneered. "But I speak from experience when I say even that is not enough. Never worked for me, at least."

Jaskier frowned. He and Yennefer might have come to an uneasy peace, but he wasn't ready to imagine her in Geralt's bed. He stomped on a nearby rock and kicked it down the ravine in anger. Yennefer stopped the stone in mid-flight with a simple wave of her hand.

"Let's not attract unwanted attention."

Even if it pained him to admit it, she wasn't wrong. There could be worse things than harpies living in this place. Much worse things.

"Shouldn't we move on, beautiful sorceress? Have you decided what to do when we find him? If you mentioned it, I forgot that detail with the rest."

"I didn't tell you. I didn't even tell you we were going to hunt a witcher today. If I did, you would have run just like he did."

Geis giggled. The traitor. Jaskier glared at her, then ran to stay on Yennefer's level. The sorceress was already walking away, following Geralt's steps. Geis flew above them, as high as she could, but could never join the heights Dorcha did. No one talked and Jaskier used the time to think. What was going on between Yennefer and him defied belief. One by one, snippets of last night's conversation came back to him, explaining how they had come from mutual enmity to, well, this. The best word he could find to describe the situation, and the only one, was "truce". And all it required was sitting on a rug by a fireside and enough wine to agree to do something that was not natural to either of them.

To be sincere.

They shared secrets with each other, some they never even told Geis and Dorcha, and especially not Geralt. They had obtained so much blackmail material on each other that it was mind-blowing, and still, Jaskier was sure neither would use it. Well, at least he was relatively certain. Yennefer remained Yennefer, and he was a real bastard himself when he wanted to. They were both masters of lies and manipulation, each in their own field. Made you wonder what they found in a man who only swore by uprightness and honor, even if he claimed otherwise. Or maybe it wasn't surprising.

Jaskier laughed softly and Yennefer turned to him, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Nothing. I was thinking of Geralt. Can you imagine his face when he realizes we signed a friendship pact to gang up on him? He'll be white as a tomb, even more so than he does usually."

The noise Yennefer made was close to a satisfied purr.

"He'll pretend he's relieved to see us finally getting along, but in fact, he'll be terrified. He does not know what we can do together."

"I bet that once the surprise is over, he'll get hard. The idea it's going to put in his head... I can't wait to explain to him he'll never have us both in the same bed."

On the other hand, he would be very happy to tell him about the sight he had missed in the morning. He would even let him wonder if something happened that night.

"I don't agree," Geis said, landing on his shoulder. "He'll be jealous. You're supposed to hate each other, not gang up on him, let alone be friends. He'll hate it and start sulking."

Yennefer's gaze became distant for a few seconds.

"Dorcha agrees with you," she finally said, addressing Geis directly, "but I take the bet. I'll let you know what I want once I've won."

"If I win, I want Dorcha to stop giving me those threatening looks," Geis whispered in Jaskier's ear.

Jaskier nodded silently, still confused. People didn't talk directly to someone else's daemon unless they were very close. It was strange to think they were, very strange. He was going to miss being Yennefer's best enemy.

They found Geralt at midday. Despite the landscape's monotony, Jaskier didn't find the journey that long. Sharing his grievances about Geralt with Yennefer was surprisingly cathartic. He would gladly do it again occasionally, perhaps somewhere with wine and seats.

Seeing from afar Geralt fighting with a griffin almost bigger than the mountain behind took away all his desire to laugh. At least they arrived on time, but just barely. With every maneuver, every twirl, Geralt came closer to slipping into his own blood. He still held through, parrying every claw, every wing swipe with unnatural ease, even though he shouldn't have managed in his condition. It was a dance, beautiful and deadly for both partners. Jaskier's music and words would never do Geralt justice, but he would keep trying until his fingers were bleeding. Today, if the sigh took his breath away, it wasn't for the usual reason. Today, anyone could see Geralt Geralt had decided he intended to die in this fight.

Jaskier glanced at Yennefer. She was watching this silently, Dorcha resting on her shoulder. They both looked calm, but Jaskier could feel them boiling.

"You were right, Jaskier. He's an absolute moron."

She raised her hand to cast a spell to help Geralt get out of this mess. A gigantic shadow passing over their heads forced her to stop. Jaskier swore. There was a second griffin, even bigger than the first. The male, unless the females were the largest one within the species. Jaskier knew nothing about griffins.

"I'll take care of that one," Yennefer said. "Geralt will have to get out of this mess alone. Stay hidden. I wouldn't want to go looking for your body at the end of that gorge."

Fire sprang out of her hands. A smell of roasted flesh and feathers reached Jaskier's noise. He nearly puked. The griffin fell and disappeared on the other side of the mountain. Yennefer seized her dress with both hands to follow and achieve him.

Jaskier had hidden as she said, but when she disappeared, he realized he couldn't just hide. If he could help Geralt... He wanted to yell at him they were here, that he should hold on until Yennefer came, but he froze the words stuck in his throat. In the time it took for Yennefer to attack the griffin and go after it, Geralt had gone down. His left arm was pinned under the griffin's talon. His right arm was at an odd angle, broken, unusable. Even if it was, his sword would still be too far for him to grab. Geis cried unless it was Jaskier. They both knew the truth. Geralt was dead, and they couldn't help him.

The next moment, the griffin was pushed back by an invisible force. Jaskier didn't see any witcher's sign. It couldn't be Geralt, given his position. Squinting, Jaskier thought he could see a translucent form standing between the witcher and the griffin. The moment after, it was gone.

"Did you see that?" he asked Geis.

"See what?"

"There was something there. I think it's gone", he said, suddenly less sure of himself.

What had he seen? An illusion produced by the sun's reverberation? But something had repelled the griffin. He couldn't have imagined that. And just like that, he remembered. In the clearing, where they discovered what happened to monster's daemons, something had struck him in the dark, probably saving him. It had been dark that night, he hadn't seen it either. A thought came to him, a crazy thought which he tuck away to think about it later. He needed to concenter on the fight.

Geralt was already on his feet and took advantage of the griffin's surprise to corner him and slit his throat. The beast struggled and tried to strike back, but only hastened its own death. It tried to cry, perhaps to alert its partner, and collapsed in agony.

Geralt fell beside its body.

Jaskier rushed toward him, panicking. He grabbed the bag Geralt had thrown away at the start of the fight to lighten himself. There had to be something to dress Geralt's wounds or a potion that would save his life, but he couldn't recognize one from the other, and when he got to Geralt's side, the man was already unconscious.

"Idiot," he gritted between his teeth. You have no right to do this to me. You have no right to do this to us."

He emptied the content of the bag and the floor to see if he recognized something. Geis left his shoulder to land on one of the vials that rolled away from them.

"This one. I'm sure I recognize the color and the name. He uses the swallow when he's hurt."

Jaskier trusted her with his life, which meant he trusted her with Geralt's. He tore off the lid and opened Geralt's mouth to force him to drink. The witcher swallowed, convulsed twice, then stood still. Jaskier didn't dare to breathe or blink, watching for any sign of life. He had never been so afraid. He did not dare to take Geralt's pulse for fear of what he would discover.

"How is he?" Yennefer asked, crouching beside him.

She was covered in soot and smelled of burnt flesh. There was a large cut across her neck, but she didn't seem to care. Jaskier gave her the vial. His hands were shaking.

"I gave him this to drink."

Yennefer took it, examined it quickly, then leaned over Geralt to examine him. Dorcha sat down next to her to watch. Even the magpie looked worried until the sorceress sat up.

"The fool will live."

Jaskier could hear the relief in her voice. He felt the same. Geralt would live. He could breathe again. He took Yennefer's hand and squeezed it to the point of hurting her, but she let him. Her hand was also shaking slightly.

They discussed transporting the witcher to Yennefer's house, but decided against it. He would leave immediately if he survived the transportation. In the end, they set up a tent above his head and let Geralt sleep under the watchful eye of the two daemons. Dorcha and Geis didn't exchange a word or a glance, but Jaskier no longer sensed Geis' usual fear in the magpie's presence. It was a day of miracles, indeed.

It took until evening for Geralt to wake up. When the witcher moved slightly, Geis chirped to get their attention, and they rushed over, just in time to see him open his eyes. Hazy at first, his gaze sharpened, and he frowned when he saw the two of them at his bedside.

"What are you doing here?" he asked harshly as he tried to get up.

"Strangely enough, we were both passing that way," Yennefer replied coldly while forcing him to lie down again. "It was a coincidence, of course."

Geralt frowned. His eyes went to Jaskier.

"It is the truth," Jaskier confirmed in a colder voice. "Lucky coincidence, since you would be bleeding out without our intervention."

"I don't need any help."

Geralt pushed Yennefer's hand away and stood up. They couldn't stop him, even with his broken arm. He staggered but reached for his bag to pull out a cleaner shirt.

"Indeed, you don't need help," the sorceress mocked. "Anyone could see that from three leagues away. Do you have other jokes to tell us?"

Geralt ignored her.

"And where are you going like that?" Jaskier asked, feeling anger rising inside of him.

"I left Roach somewhere before I entered the valley. I can't leave her alone."

He couldn't leave a horse, but he could leave them. Geralt was lucky Jaskier wasn't good with a knife. Jaskier rolled his eyes but clapped his hand cheerfully.

"What a coincidence! That's where I'm going too. Don't you too, Yennefer?"

"It is a day of coincidence, it would seem. I have business in this direction. We will travel together then."

Geralt frowned but said nothing. He put on his shirt and tried to do his belt with one hand. Yennefer and Jaskier immediately crossed their arms to show they wouldn't help him bleed out. The idiot seemed to think he could just ignore them and get back on the road like he didn't try to let himself be killed, but he wouldn't even make it to the other side of the valley before he collapsed. It didn't matter. They had all the time in the world. It was a long journey on foot and Geralt couldn't ignore them forever.

Before he followed the witcher to help him when he would collapse, Jaskier believed he saw something standing beside Geralt. He blinked, and the impression disappeared.