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 and my twisted version of the lore.

Warnings : This one is a heavy chapter. Blood (a lot). Gore (more graphic than usual). Dark past and suggested abuses. Self-loathing and depression.

Note : I gave Jaskier a very weird story but whatever... Who cares.

The child surprise - Part 1

Monsters

###

Geralt's organism was full of poisons. Those from his potions currently giving him extra strength and oxygenation, and those from the gastric sucs of the Selkiemore that had swallowed him whole. He was holding his breath for quite some time now but this couldn't last very much longer but he didn't care.

He was partially entangled in seaweed and floating in a strange hot bubble of seawater, plankton clouds and acids. He could see because he had put some diving scuba mask on and that was protecting his face. He couldn't take any respiration though because the air bubble was the only thing that was preventing the sea soup to come inside and burn his eyes.

There were a lot of small fish in this strange bath and the remains of an almost fully digested woman. The flesh had dissolved in parts but not the clothes. Strangely some seaweed attached to her head was making some weird dark green hair.

Selkiemores were not man-eating sea monsters; more like giant whales. But they sometimes approached the coasts a bit too much, attracted by the abundant food near the human lands. The products that helped grow the corn and wheat were doing the same with algaes and micro organisms near the estuaries as the rivers, used to irrigate, carried everything to the sea. This Selkiemore was problematic because it didn't fear humans anymore and was damaging the fisher boats from time to time, catching the balls of fish in the nets.

Geralt had been called, here in the Skellige islands, after it swallowed the woman who was floating nearby. She was apparently the daughter of someone close to the jarl family. Of course the creature was now sentenced to death. The reward was huge but he had accepted to kill it because its behaviour toward the ships could translate to other Selkiemore with time.

Despite his dire situation, Geralt was feeling good. He could let himself go for good, but that would be a terrible death. With the potions he had taken he would die from drowning but agonizingly slow. This was the curse of the mutants. They wouldn't die easily, never…

He looked at the disarticulated body in dress. In the blur, she morphed progressively into another woman. The seaweed turned into beautiful dark hair, the flesh growing her back into something alive. She was beautiful, almost sleeping in this floating mess with him. She was his beautiful dream.

He never stopped making this strange dream with the crow and the woman with purple eyes - Yennefer of Vengerberg - even if it was less often. He was not afraid anymore and even welcomed the dream now. He was experiencing some sweet pleasures with her. He could remember the taste of her lips, the perfume of her body, when they joined into passionate embraces. The Doppler incident had somehow changed something in him but this was working just within this oniric space and he was happy with that. He had rejected everything else and the mess at the Passiflora was now just a vague souvenir.

Suddenly, Yennefer moved. She swimmed gracefully toward him. Was he dreaming again ? She approached but when she came to kiss him, her face changed back into the dead body. He felt a sudden sharp stabbing pain in his chest and almost released the air he still had in his lungs.

He pushed the body away, understanding that the movements of the Selkiemore had simply affected their positions. Geralt knew that he didn't have much time left. This hallucination was due to the carbon poisoning becoming more and more intense as he was still not breathing. The killer whale potion couldn't do miracles. This had to end now.

He pushed himself toward the belly membrane and reached for his shotgun still attached to his leg. His movements were slowed by the seaweed restraining his limbs. He placed his weapon in front of him, the canon against the flesh. Then he casted Igni with his left and triggered from the outside the combustion that fired the munitions. This close, the blast just ripped open the digestive membrane over several inches. Blood rushed inside.

The effect was immediate. The selkimora tried to throw him up, but he didn't move much because of the seaweed. He took the rest of his munitions, removing them from the reserve attached to his belt and pushed them in the hole he created. His silver sword was nowhere to be found and probably lost in the sea but he reached for his steel one, still on his back.

The movement was hard but the blade helped to free him from the seaweed. He casted Igni again and the metal became red hot, making the liquid around boil slightly. He pushed the incandescent sword in the hole and the munitions exploded in a muffled sound. Fighting against the repulsive blast he pushed forward into the blood cloud that was forming. He knew he had gone through. The Selkiemore made a strange movement and screamed internally. It was still underwater. Geralt pushed up with all of his remaining strength cutting through the belly, the muscles and the fat. Inch by inch, he was creating an opening to the outside. The Selkiemore was screaming in pain continuously as he progressed and its gagging reflex was just helping him to cut faster.

The hot blade was beginning to burn his hands too but he didn't stop until the cold water from the outside mixed with the hot soup inside the beast. He couldn't see the opening, between the digestive soup and the blood, but he muddled his way through it. He was expelled into the sea by a swift movement of the creature.

He was suddenly very cold against a hot blood current. He could see the creature underneath him, twisting in every direction, expelling a huge amount of vital fluid around. It was making strange dark arabesques in the pale light coming from above. Its screams continued, now similar to whale chants modulating.

Geralt moved instinctively toward the light. He needed to breathe urgently. He pierced the surface, removed partially his mask and exhaled the vitiated air of his lungs and took several shaking breaths the best he could. His head was spinning. The killer whale potion was helping him to oxygenate faster, maybe a bit too fast.

He was swimming awkwardly. He had lost his shotgun inside the beast but still had his sword in hand. He looked around. He notices that he was nearer from the coast than when he began the hunt, on the fishman's boat but he was still quite far. He could die here if the second metabolisation of the potions he took began while he was still in the water.

He suddenly felt a strange movement underneath. He took a big gulp of air, put the mask back in place and looked down. The Selkiemore was now swimming toward the surface, it needed to breathe too. It didn't try to attack him again. It was just trying to survive. This could be his last chance to come closer to the coast. Geralt swimmed in an interception course the best he could and, caught in the current it created, went near enough to stab the creature again. The pained wailing sound it produced made him sad. This creature was already wounded to death and would die in atrocious pain, but he was causing it more suffering just to use it to get closer to the shore.

They broke the surface together and the airway of the beast, the hole on the top of its head, liberated a geyser of water mixed with blood.

Geralt was clenching his sword, jabbed deep into the flesh so it wouldn't move. He was half in the water, half outside, and near the head. The three enormous eyes, on his side, were in front of him. He used Axii.

The mind of the creature reflected back at him the pain it was in, and for a second it was hard for him to keep the spell active. He forced his way into the weird foggy mental image of the beast and printed the idea he needed : go to the shore. It resisted him a bit but then obeyed. It turned and went full speed toward the coast. It lasted several minutes, and for Geralt it was an eternity. Because of the backfiring sensations, he was feeling like his body was ripped open and the blood loss comatose state was beginning to reach him too.

The impact with the sand was extremely violent, as the Selkiemore never slowed down. Geralt lost his grip and was projected several meters in the air before crashing on the wet sand.

He struggled to get back on his feet and for a moment he couldn't and stayed on his knees. He removed the mask to get the air faster in his lungs. He was breathing hard and his body was beginning to respond to the multitude of wounds he suffered during this fight. The cuts from the teeth of the beast, when he was swallowed, were pouring out blood, his distended muscles from the extreme tractions and efforts he had to go through were screaming, the burns on his hands were now hurting a lot too.

He looked back at the creature, now stranded on its side, on the shore. It was gigantic and somehow magnificent. But it was agonising, jaws opened, eyes rolling in their socket in total panic. It was trying to move backward but it was too embedded in the sand to do much. The receding sea was hitting it just enough to make it believe it could work but it was simply digging its tomb.

Geralt was sad. This shouldn't have been necessary. Selkiemores were not usually man-eaters… He painfully got back on his feet and approached the creature. His ripped open belly, from where he had cut his way through, was a huge gap, bleeding so much that the whole water around was turning red at an alarming rate. Every effort the creature was doing to get out of its trap was exaggerating the flow pulsing out in outpourings.

His sword was still embedded in its head. He removed it against his protesting muscles and climbed on the top of the beast.

The three eyes rolled toward him and he could see himself on the glassy surface. He was terrifying under the potions effect. The fear was shared. He was scaring and disgusting himself, and the beast knew probably that he was its final death sentence. It produced a fearful and pained wailing sound.

- "I will take you by the hand and lead you across the meadow, through a cold and wet fog... sleep now and find peace..." Said Geralr with a raw voice.

He casted Igni one last time and plunged his sword in the second eye, where the brain was. He went through to the hilt and let the inside burn until the creature stopped moving definitely. He removed the sword from the eye socket and got down, jumping in the red sea. He took a few steps and looked back one last time to his horrible achievement. He wanted to puke and it had nothing to do with the stench. The creature was dead now but was still bleeding out to the rhythm of its heart - that probably didn't register yet it should stop beating - painting the sea in red further and further.

A deadly wounded witcher body would react the same. He grimaced.

- "I am just a monster killing other monsters…" He muttered.

Slowly he acknowledged the world again. The other sounds around rushed back to him with the bloody waves hitting his legs. The surf of the sea, the wind, the gulls and the crows screaming… The sky was as gray as his heart and promising heavy rains. He was alone on this deserted shore and had to get back to Jaskier who was waiting for him in the village in a motel.

He always had to go back to him. This was a promise between them… and maybe for many years now the only thing that kept him alive after devastating hunts like that. He needed his sunshine to get colors back in his heart. He needed the only human that pushed away the ramping death thoughts he had in those moments. So he put his sword back on his back and walked away.

###

The city was two miles away and he came back before the second metabolisation began. He was proud of him. Roach was on the parking of the motel and he could hear Jaskier arguing with people in the restaurant nearby.

- "He is not dead !" He yelled at the man.

- "He's been swallowed by the monster. I have seen it from my very own eyes, you idiot." This was the fisherman that had him on his boat.

- "You don't know him. I have seen him in battles you can't imagine. You should have waited !"

- "Indeed !" He said, opening the door suddenly.

There was a general back mouvement, as he moved forward. People that gathered around the fisherman, probably to punish Jaskier for promoting the witcher, were gasping and making faces at him. He betted the odor was hard to handle and his monster appearance too. Only Jaskier didn't move and even smiled. This situation happened before. Many times.

- "What did I tell you ?" said the young man, a bit cocky.

- "Impossible… How did you manage ?"

- "Basic strategy with Selkiemores. Get them from the inside. I ripped it open. You can find the body on the shore, two miles away, south. Hurry if you wanna have a souvenir. Gulls are already eating it. The next tide, the sea carnivores will take the rest of it. And by the way if you don't want Selkies on your coast maybe you should stop using those toxic products on your fields that provoc massive burst of algaes and planktons nearby. Selkiemores are feeding on that and little fish, not humans. They are so massive that they would swallow anything. The woman was an accident. I assure you, they don't care about you… By the way, I found her remains in its belly. This is not a pleasant view but if you want something to bury…"

- "How do you know it is her and not any animal ?"

- "Seals don't wear dresses…"

- "Now where is the money you promised ?" Asked Jaskier, focusing on the important part.

They had to discuss a little bit more to get the money but they did pay on the end.

Geralt was feeling weaker by the minute. The potions were all coming to an end and the side effects of the metabolisation was kicking in. Fortunately, Jaskier knew that and before he arrived had already paid for a room. He led him to where they would pass the night. He had already covered the ground with his plastic to the bathroom. Geralt muscles were beginning to cramp. He had to let Jaskier remove his clothes and help him to the bathtub. Without a word he blocked the drain and let the water flow, filling the bath slowly.

His friend was unusually silent but he didn't have time to think about that. His body shut down at once. Violent spasms were agitating him and stabby pain was hitting his inside randomly. The dose of neurotoxins produced this time was over the charts. He had to cumulate strong shots of diverse potions to kill the beast.

Jaskier took one of his twitching hands and held it strong. He began to sing softly.

He always did that. This was not necessary to the process at all. His impressive body reaction would stop by itself after the last metabolisation, but he helped for the other aspect of this traumatic event for his organism. Before he knew the young man, if he hadn't the time to return to Roach, Geralt would simply lay near the body of the monster and would wait. He didn't care much to die from a hunt. He better wished not to and he would always try to get to safety first but if that had to happen then he wouldn't fight it more than this. Especially horrible hunts like this one. He was tossing a coin at the chance and wait to see if he would survive. But when he discovered that, a few years ago, Jaskier went mental.

His lack of care almost cost him his life once. If the singer hadn't had the good idea to search for him, despite the potential danger, he would have died. Using his gunshot he had killed the basilic in a lucky shot. The monster had taken advantage over his already paralyzed body to poison him further and it was about to begin to feed on him alive. This incident led to a rule.

"Fuck no human on hunts unless you promise to return before the beginning of the second metabolisation. Get back to me. Always."

They did this for years now and it worked. He explained to Jaskier the effect of each potion, how to recognise them, even prepare them, especially the Golden Oriole. He taught him the duration of the potions ratio the quantity he was taking so if need be he could come quickly if he wasn't back on time.

And every time, Jaskier would prepare a place for him to stay and fight the poisons and neurotoxins effects the best he could. They never had a basilic incident again even with the strongest monsters he had to fight. The young man hated to see him in pain but he never protested and was singing to him, like he was doing now. This was sweet and reassuring. This helped, not with the pain but with the fight itself and the distress it caused.

He was always recuperating faster since Jaskier did that.

When the third metabolisation began, his body went slack. This phase was rare and happened mostly when he had taken several potions at once. He was still aware but the overload of his neural system was shutting down his whole body. His vitals would drop drastically in a few minutes. Jaskier knew what to do. He had the adrenaline shot nearby in case his heart wouldn't hold. He had to use it once. This time it should be ok. His wounds were not too bad and he didn't receive extra strong poison to deal with. The acids and the bacterias of the Selkiemore stomach were easy to overcome.

Listening to the soft voice of his friend, he began to drift and his muscles didn't respond to his will. His breathing and heart slowed down a lot as expected.

###

When he came back to his senses, he and the water were almost clean but cold. Jaskier had washed him as much as he decently could. His burnt hands were dressed with gazes. And he could smell the regenerative herbal salve.

He turned his head toward his friend still sitting on the ground near him. He was smiling.

- "Welcome back, buddy. I gave your clothes to the laundry. The tears can be repaired. They protested because of the smell but I menaced them." He laughed. "When you are ready, come in the room, I have to stitch some cuts."

- "How long have I been out ?" He asked.

- "Two hours…" Answered Jaskier, giving him the material to finish washing himself. "Don't forget to clean behind the ear." He joked before leaving the bathroom.

Geralt smiled. Yeah the little fellow guy was bringing back colors in his heart. He sat up slowly, his muscles protested painfully but he ignored it. He removed the gazes. Two hours and the salve were enough to start the regenerative process. He would need to redress them later but that seemed already good. He took the washing glove and the soap and began to wash himself. His limbs were still a bit numb but he could manage.

He meticulously washed every inch of his body, to get rid of the dirt and stench. He had to change the water twice before he was satisfied with his cleanliness. He got out and finally drained the bathtub and cleaned it one last time, just to be sure.

There was a big mirror in the room. The vapor was fading slowly and he could see pieces of him. Most of the cuts were already closed and regenerating, but some on his shoulders and belly were deeper and pouring a little bit. Jaskier had noticed already and that was the reason why he proposed to play the nurse. He was not bad at it actually.

Geralt put a towel around his waist and got into the room. Jaskier was on his bed, writing and humming.

- "Feeling better ?" He asked when he saw him.

- "Yeah thanks."

He sat on his bed and Jaskier got up, pushing his stuff away, taking the medical kit that was previously on the middle night table and he came to him. He began to take care of the wounds but he was way too silent. Geralt had noticed that for quite some time now, to be fair.

- "You are not talking much today." He said. "Not that I complain but are you ok ?"

- "Well…" The caring hands stopped for a second. "I worry." He resumed cleaning the cuts.

- "About what ?"

- "These hunts you have been taking recently and something personal I want to tell you but I don't know how."

- "For the hunts, there is nothing unusual. Monsters are not always easy and I can take them down, so… this is my job, you know."

- "Yeah, but you aren't giving yourself much break between hard hunts theses days."

- "Well you know the rule about that…"

- "Yeah yeah… Don't come if you can't bare… but…"

- "No buts Jaskier. What is this personal thing you wanna tell me ? I just hope this isn't one of your romances…" He tried to make a diversion.

- "No, not this time." Jaskier began to stitch the first cut on his shoulder and stay silent a long time before continuing. "Do you remember Novigrad, two years ago ?"

- "Jaskier…" He sighed.

- "I am not talking about the Passiflora, you arse, let me finish… You came to get me at the train station. I was in Oxenfurt. And I had no money left."

- "Yeah I remember."

- "Well… I was with one of the best lawyers to try to get some advises on a difficult subject and I was trying to take the Redanian nationality."

- "What for ?"

- "Julian is… I am the son of Sir Bruce Pankratz, the rich owner of the Continent's first oil company. I am surprised you never made the link. But I get that his public surname is different so I get that..." He was speaking too much for nothing suddenly. He was extremely nervous.

- "You what ?" Geralt turned back to him, but Jaskier pushed his head away so he could continue to stitch him properly.

- "He is a noble man, the viscount of Lettenhove precisely. And till now, technically, at his death I would become the new viscount, but with a fucking twist… A fucking twisted twist… that would make me a pawn of his compagny, because I am not human by the law… He is trying to get a cousin of mine to be his real heir and break me. He can't imagine me having a life..."

Tellicos' words were rushing back in Geral's mind. He told him Jaskier was not human.

- "What do you mean ?" This time, Geralt turned slowly to face his friend who was smiling nervously.

- "This is a complicated story and not a very pleasant one."

- "Go on… Now that we're here. Either you told too much or not enough."

Jaskier sighed but struggled to begin. But then he let it out even if Geralt felt like he was keeping a lot inside.

- "Lettenhove is a vast empty land near Toussaint. And history went funny there, between the alliances and the protectorats of Nilfgaard. There is not much but fields, sheeps and forest but it has its own laws. Fucking hellish laws noone would abrogate. To make it short : a marriage is an absolute contract that allows the parties to have full power over the other's life if they break it. My mother did break the most fundamental point of the union by cheating on my father. Don't get me wrong, I understand why. My father in law is a bastard like you can't even imagine… The problem is that I am not his biological heir. I am the other man's one… So father took power over my mother's life and mine." There were tears in his eyes now. "I was a boy so he had plans for me, that's the only reason I am alive, but he changed my status, so he would literally possess me, as much as the furniture of the house. I am a thing…"

- "What the hell ? Jaskier."

- "I can't change what I am in Lettenhove but my lawyer explained to me that if I can change my nationality I would become fully human to the rest of the world and I could break the contract he had placed over my head. To this day, at best, I have an intermediate status, like elves or dwarves. So I don't have much power over myself."

- "I guess your mother is powerless to change anything." Jaskier scoffed sadly.

- "You don't get how fucked up this man is, Geralt. Father got her killed. She broke the marriage. This is an easy death sentence…"

Geralt's blood ran cold.

- "I could satisfy myself to be an elf or a dwarf in other countries, because obviously I am a human and I don't get any problems until I have to show some papers, which doesn't happen often. But I am well known now and I earn a lot of money, so father decided he should get his money back first. The whole investment for my education and half of my earnings as an artist. Of course I can't stop him. That's why I had to pay with everything I had two years ago. Do you have any idea how much Oxenfurt's academy costs ?" Geralt shook his head slowly. "Well I didn't know either until I had to pay back… To cover the potential scandal around my birth state and to prevent some unwanted attention on my past, this had to be done quietly, for him and for me. But now he is using this to out back strings on me, to get control back... For years, I believed I escaped father but he always finds a way to catch Julian and make him pay for existing… Father is brutal and a twisted man but he can do anything if he wants..."

Geralt had already noticed how Jaskier had began to use "father" like a title and the last sentences were full of unsaid memories about punishments. He could feel hatred growing inside of him and he suddenly needed to find this man and kill him. Jaskier almost never talked about Julian, but the dissociation he was applying, the faded scars on his skin, Tellico's words and now this, it was almost too easy to imagine the worst. And he could smell sadness growing inside his human. He shivered from contained rage.

- "I tried Redania but unfortunately they refused. I am trying Cintra currently. I had an adn test done a few weeks ago and I am waiting for the result. If there are no elven genes found, I have a chance, but there is something that could give me a boost." He made a long pause to gather himself. "The queen Calanthe is organizing a banquet for the betrothal of her daughter, the princess Pavetta. Talking about old stupid traditions… The poor girl cannot choose her loved one. But the thing is that the princess is a fan and asked to have me at the ceremony to play with an orchestra. I had many rehearsals during the winter, this is a very complex show that we are putting together. The betrothal ceremony is in a month, but the thing is, that's the first time I am afraid to play. This is too important for me… as a person. I have a plus one invitation but I don't know... You are my only true friend, Geralt. I… I…"

- "I will come with you." He simply said. This was the only answer.

Jaskier suddenly cried but this was tears of joy. Geralt knew this was not a good idea to come to those events. Too political. Too out of his world. But the pain Jaskier was feeling was reaching him deep.

Geralt was made a monster because of a parent too. His friend had a chance to get what was refused to him before he was even born, to take back what he was owed. So he would not let him fall into the same pit he was and drown.

Jaskier always helped him to stay afloat without waiting for anything in return. This was the first time his friend really asked for help. He wouldn't let him down. We wouldn't be that monster to him…

I hope this was ok, balancing the two side of the story. Now you know more about Jaskier's past. I hope that the positions are clearer now and the mirroring things too.

I hope the BP joke was ok. And I permitted myself to use the killer whale potion from the game because this was too perfect a name for a Selkiemore hunt.

See you soon.