"I cannot believe what a shitty year this is! So many have died, the Brotherhood is destroyed, Aretuza half burnt down, Tor Lara lies in ruins. We have lost Tissaia, Geralt is badly wounded. And Ciri, my beloved daughter, is lost, has vanished from the face of the continent. Why can't this shitty year be over and done with already? Why, bard?" Giving a sudden sob, she sniffs into Jaskier's shoulder. He tightens his grip around her waist.
"You're right, Yen, so many shitty things have happened. It's not fair." He raises one hand and gently strokes over his friend's raven hair. "And it's OK to rant and cry. Even though you'll probably ruin my favourite shirt with those tons of snot. Here, have a handkerchief, love." Jaskier produces a frilly, pink piece of fabric from one of his coat pockets and wipes the distressed sorceress's nose with it.
"However, not all was bad, was it, dear? There were some nice moments, right? You finally made up with Geralt. That's one big plus. You and Ciri grew so, so much closer, too. While I fell in love with a prince and did not have to suffer through an entire evening of Valdo Marx torturing my sensitive hearing organs with what he calls music. What more? We are hugging - again." He smiles at her affectionately. "Okay, I admit, maybe there'll be more shit happening, but perhaps there'll be other nice things, too. One never knows, right? This year might surprise us yet. The dryads are great healers, I'm sure Geralt will be fine. And we'll find Ciri, you'll see, Yen. There's always hope, my dear witch, always, no matter how bleak things look."
"Oh, Jaskier, how can you be such an eternal optimist?" Yennefer sniffs one last time, then gives a faint smile.
"Guess I was born under a lucky star?" He grins at her, his adorable, blue-eyed Jaskier grin.
"Or, perhaps, a brain cell or two short?"
"How dare you insult my intellectual faculties, witch?" Jaskier splutters, feigning to be affronted. "I've studied and taught at Oxenfurt Academy, the most renowned university on the continent!"
"I know, bard, I know. Can I borrow some of your hope?"
"All of it, dear heart." He hugs her tightly and kisses her on the forehead. Yennefer leans into her bard with a sigh, feeling so much better already. Maybe, just maybe this year is not lost yet. It might improve, who knows? Jaskier's lucky star perhaps?