Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of the witcher. Those are property of Mr Sapkowski and I using Netflix series canon here.


Warnings: depression, sexual tension. But to be fair, this is more of the whole twisted setup


Notes: ok I am more or less back. I am struggling with complicated things in my life and this time I couldn't find the energy to write. I am trying to get back on tracks. I don't promise regularity but I am moving forward :).

This is quite a chaotic chapter because Radovid is descending my own depression slide, but I hope you will enjoy it as we are coming near to the real radskier.


The little bird

###

Radovid was bored and depressed, reduced to a multitude of tasks his brother was giving him. None of them were interesting to him nor fulfilling.

He didn't try to search for the little bird of his sheets book - he was too scared after what happened to Brunhild and dropped any hope to become who he wanted to be. The Sandpiper just remained a name he heard and a stranger in the garden.

But the bird came to him nonetheless in his flower shape, leaving soft duvet and petals in his hard fantasies, colourful feathers in his path while becoming an even more famous of a bard he already was, and making his heart burst each time he heard of him. Radovid implicitly knew Jaskier and The Sandpiper were the same person but he had no real proof. He preferred to think it was just in his mind to get every drop of escapism this was giving him. This fantasy was his everything. But he was living in a state of cycling madness for his emotions. He was burning internally with passion when he could hear of him and was falling in a pit of pain when only the emptiness remained for his reality.

He was emotionally compromised by this artist but he wasn't stupid and knew that he was falling in love with the fantasised image of that man, out of a weird experience and all those songs he was listening to.

After Burn Butcher Burn, several other of Jaskier's songs found a way to the court. This was nice escapism when it came to be. Strangely, these were the one of the White Wolf stories that were sung the most. Or maybe this was to highlight the current personal tragedy of the bard that they were more than ever popular. People like dramatic love stories. He did too. But most of the people were hearing the love stories of a witcher and a sorceress or simply some crazy adventures. To him, the words were twisted and full of longing. The bard was singing his love for the witcher. And this unrequited love was resonating with him more than anything else.

He knew that this was the past. He knew that those stories were probably half fake. But the feelings were real. Burn Butcher Burn was the proof after all. Right ? So he wished sometimes he was that witcher the bard had been writing about, just to be the one looked that way, once in his life. His own love stories were empty, reduced to simple sex affairs. Those songs were what he wanted for himself.

And this passion he couldn't speak about became visible, but only for those who could read the signs. And this became a game for him. He was turning himself into something new and more provocative without anyone seeing him. This was as tragic as it was funny to him.

He asked for new outfits first. Radovid had always been thin and the Redanian fashion was favoriting the longiligne silhouettes. Several thick wolf fur coats were made for him. He liked how he looked in the mirror wearing those. It was hiding just a bit of the royal features and giving him a little bit of a warrior without suggesting anything but wealth. He could imagine being a witcher from the far north, walking in the snow. He could imagine cold nights near the fire, the bard strumming his lute cords, singing to him all those words he loved. And with his night conquests, this was very enticing. He found some very specific pleasure to feel the fur and the leather attaches against his skin.

But everything was momentary and just games in his mind. He was no heros, he was no warrior, and the bard wasn't here either - just out of reach. Until…

###

Radovid was listening from behind the wall of Duke's garden. First time out of the walls of Tretogor's castle for months and he was already doing the devil's job with their honorable hosts and finding himself in trouble just trying to reach back the royal apartments to the other side of the property.

Radovid was sent with his brother's wife - the queen Hedwige - and Dijkstra to represent the royal family at an important event hosted by the academy of Oxenfurt. This was one of the many new tasks his brother was trying to introduce him, to make him useful to the life of a monarch or so. This was boring as hell, but he could travel a bit, and the days off were a nice improvement of his situation.

Of course he would be normally confined between walls of rich families with a lot of guards and the spy master was one of the strictest in terms of security. But the man had his hands full with too many things currently to watch over his little nightly escapades in one's bed. And he wasn't the only one to go off road here. He saw the queen in the most compromising positions with a noble invited to the event. So he had no problem with his own deviant behaviours.

But the presence of Philippa here was unexpected and bad news for the spy master. To be fair he wouldn't have stopped to listen in the first place - events were just unfolding themselves into this, in the most unconventional ways. The subject of this secret meeting was The Sandpiper. His heart was racing more from the excitement than the fear. Just picturing the man he saw months ago was making his heart flutter.

- "What happened to this moron this time ?" Said Dijkstra between clenched teeth.

- "He has been arrested near the brothel. He was seen with Yennefer of Vengerberg who is actively searched by Aretuzan authorities before she vanished inexplicably."

- "So the connection is stronger than we thought. Interesting." The spy master made a step to the side.

- "The problem is that we are not the only ones understanding this connection. He had been tortured."

Radovid's blood ran cold. He knew why he had this sudden frisson but in the moment his brain registered the cold air more than the terrible truth. Even if the duke's place was not in the city walls but more in the countryside, Oxenfurt nights were fresh because of the proximity of the sea, and being half naked in his situation was becoming more problematic by the minutes.

Still focused on the conversation he tried to slide into his shirt in silence. He really didn't want to make a noise. As much as he disliked Dijkstra in particular, he was extremely efficient in finding ennemis in disguise, and he protected Vizimir several times in the last few months against assassination attempts. He had a very precise knife throw that he didn't want to test it right now.

- "Hard ?" Asked the spy master.

- "Well not as hard as we could be but for a bard, yes. He resisted surprisingly quite well. But I guess running around a witcher for so many years has toughened him up."

Radovid stopped his contortions, ending with just half of his shirt on. Now the link was evident in his head. Jaskier was the Sandpiper and it did something strange to him, as the mysterious man of the garden was definitely colliding with an unspeakable fantasy born from songs and poetry.

- "Can he still be useful ? Can he resume his activities ?"

- "Yes and no. He will need some time to recover. He took quite an extensive beating. He cannot resume smuggling that fast and we have to make sure that his position hasn't been compromised in the network. But for the part that is interesting to us, there is a grand chance that we put the string on the right guy and that it could play in our favour faster than we imagine."

- "Do you think the witcher will come for him ?"

- "I have an intuition, yes."

- "Intuition isn't enough for me."

- "Well… This is all you'll get for now. Just be sure that our bard cell isn't the best guarded so he could fly where we need him to."

Radovid put the other half of his shirt in place - more or so - and leaned forward against all natural instinct of survival. He wanted to know more.

- "Ok. Let's follow your lead for this. But you know what I want."

- "Of course."

Radovid had the insane reflex to stop moving at this point and was lucky enough to be in no-one's vision angle. Dijkstra and Philippa quitted the garden without noticing his disheveled presence against the wall, behind them.

For a moment he felt good, as adrenaline was pumping in his veins. But the fall that came after that was quite hard. All of this was just making him realise his own chains and limitations even more. He crashed after returning to his bedroom.

He was literally just some kilometers away from his deepest fantasy, that happened to be a real person. And this person was a peon of Dijkstra and Philippa, willingly or not. Hence he was more out of reach than ever.

But life wasn't done with him, playing with his heart and soul. Weeks after weeks.

Radovid was continuing to change and grow as he was descending in the deepest depression he ever experienced. Everything he knew was scattering. He began to see the fractures in his world clearer than ever. Hedwige was less and less discreet about her feelings towards the king, only playing her part to and for the court. Vizimir wasn't subtle either about her role in his marriage as she was too old to help to his grandeur as she couldn't give him a future in nature. And the court became something twisted in its core where everyone was trying to take more and more advantages from the others. Even him. It always had been the case for him but this was ridiculous now. So he decided to go along with it.

He was numbing himself in parties that were driving his brother nuts. His reputation became one of an alcoholic and a sex addict. Half of it was true though. Alcohol was not a real problem. He was playing most of it. But sex was his only way out of his cage. Pleasure was a drug to hide the real emptiness in his heart and diffuse the sad and nauseous feelings he had about humanity and himself.

And the little bird came back in his life with a new song and a new bang in the walls of the castle. The song of the seven infuriated the whole Continent on the royal sides but made Radovid so happy. The little bird was singing for revolution. The little bird was singing for freedom for all of those who were different. He was fighting against those who put the leash on his neck while he was trying to do something else and there was nothing they could do about it because they needed him. He was the only remaining lead to Cirilla of Cintra that Dijkstra and Philippa had promised Vizimir.

All those long reunions were finally coming into fruition in his mind, painting a quite clear picture of the state of the throne. Queen Hedwige had extra conjugal affairs and couldn't give his brother an heir. Cirilla was a political token and a young princess that could replace her. But the girl was with the white wolf, the hero of Jaskier's songs. So they had him on a leash for a long time now, expecting him to bring the princess to them. But the little bird was so chaotic and fighting against everything that he couldn't be as helpful as they thought.

Radovid didn't care for Cirilla or Hedwige. He didn't care much about the spies as long as they were protecting them all and giving him pieces of information about his little hero. He didn't care about his reputation, as long as nobody was really looking his way. But he should have cared more before everything happened.

###

Everything was a game to keep the reality at bay for Radovid now. He had no goal, except feeling the satisfaction to slide away from those who were trying to use him. He was a natural, some could say. He grew in confidence as much as his depression was devouring him. So he didn't see the leash coming for him and the cage for his bird.

When the words came out of Vizimir's mouth, Radovid was laughing, because both Dijkstra and Philippa were gutted to have to deal with him. He was his brother's eyes in the most secret part of his own politic. He was sending a strong message there : don't believe I am all blind to your plotting. And Radovid loved this position at first, more than anything that his brother had tried to make him do.

Especially when he had to accompany Philippa to meet the spies for the reports. And this day changed everything in his world of darkness.

They went to Ban Glean and she tried to get rid of him in a tavern. But he followed her. And he saw his little bird for the first time, for real and properly. The scene was surreal and he loved every second of it.

Jaskier was arguing with one of his love affairs apparently. The obvious conclusion to all of those screams in the street was that he was as much of a disaster as he was in terms of his sex life. And it became more and more interesting when Philippa tried to force him to talk. He saw right through the man's game but she couldn't handle it. Oh he was good ! So good !

Radovid entered the stage when the lady at the balcony threw the bard's lute out and he caught it before it crashed. He saw the master gamer playing his way to him to get out of Philippa's claws, using this event as a cover. And Radovid played with him at first, bringing on the table his love for the song of the seven, and offering him the chance to continue to play the sorceress out of the game.

That first contact was awkward and cute. But Radovid saw an opportunity he couldn't let go : connect with the only person that mattered to him in his poor life. And he gave him all, regardless of the consequences.

He saw the trouble in the bard's eyes when he played with him as hard as he was playing with Philippa. The equation was so simple to him. He didn't understand why she was making everything so hard. He gave the bard an option no-one thought of : security and stability. And the man was disturbed by his approach as he was not menacing like the sorceress. He was welcoming and offering. And Jaskier let his guard down for a brief moment as he was entering his comfort zone. Radovid slid the lute back in his hand when they were just one foot apart. He purposely let his fingers touch the bard's hand in a suggestive way and he saw that more was possible.

In that suspended moment in time, they touched, they connected, they shared, in a way that Radovid never experienced with anyone. The bard was like him, hiding in plain sight. A master in disguise. He could almost feel his heart beating strongly as the same realization was hitting him full force. And it felt so good and right… Until Philippa charged again, posing an ultimatum to get the information she wanted from him. And this turned out to be even more interesting...

Under the menace and the pressure, the bard was revealing another aspect of himself. The rage and the passion inside.

Radovid didn't hide his attraction much. He didn't care that people could see he was aroused right now. This was so satisfying. He was feeling the heat in his belly growing as he was looking at his most private fantasy in flesh and blood with envy. The mysterious man of the garden was even more beautiful in the light of day and more than he imagined to be. He was clever and played dumb like him. He was stronger than he tried to appear. And just the idea of his arms around him was appealing. Radovid knew his gaze was invasive but he needed to engrave everything about him in his mind.

He was ogling at the man's chest without shame - his mind turning everything into a sexual innuendo - when the bard turned toward him one last time.

There was so much contained anger in his crystalline gray eyes, as Philippa had pushed him in a corner. Radovid smiled and the anger partially vanished, replaced with confusion.

Philippa and him didn't speak about what happened but he saw in the sorceress eyes some interest.

- "We are staying here for a few days, my lord." She said, emphasizing the title with sarcasm. "Let's get a discreet accommodations for us."

- "Sure."

They went out of the town to another noble domain, well guarded. But Radovid didn't care much of this golden temporary cage. All he could think of was Jaskier. There was a world where everyone could be satisfied and where he could have something to live for.


See you as soon as I can :).