SkylessKnights

Jaskier’s brows furrowed as his eyes lingered on the Witcher. His words sunk in deep, cutting at the open wound he tried so hard to sow back closed. How dare the Wolf speak of broke hearts when he was the one who had committed the heinous crime towards him. His words felt like a challenge and Jaskier, desperate has he was to prove him wrong, gladfully accepted. 

He turned his attention to his lute that rested on the wooden table behind him, his newly healed fingertips grazing across the coarse string. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. If it was not for the witch and her recently restored powers, Jaskier would still be a miserable bard with no song from the muses to guide him home. If only she had the power to take away his reoccurring nightmares...perhaps then he could sleep just a tad bit better. 

Jaskier took the lute into his hand and climbed the bench before sitting on the table. His eyes glanced at Geralt before returning to his instrument, pressing his fingers on the fret and his other hand along the main wooden body. He strung a chord, a test to hear if his lute need retuning but its beautiful sound echoed harmoniously across the empty hall.  

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before gliding his fingers effortlessly across the string. A somber melody sung through his lute and began to fill every corner of the hall, its slow tempo confirming to Geralt that the song was a indeed lament after all. 

Jaskier continued playing the tune for a few lingering moments until his lips finally parted:

I hear you're alive, how disappointing... I've also survived, no thanks to you Did I not bring you some glee Mister "oh! oh-look-at-me"? Now I'll burn all the memories of you.

Geralt’s lips let out a deep sigh as he lowered his guilt-ridden gaze towards the table. He refused to give the bard the satisfactory of his glum expression for he knew the song was about him. The words stung like claws ripping at his chest, digging their nails in deeper with each passing strike. Either way he forced himself to listen as the anguished bard pressed on.

All those lonely miles that you ride Now you'll walk with no one by your side Did you ever even care With your swords and your stupid hair? Now watch me laugh as I burn all the memories of you.

What for do you yearn? It's the point of no return After everything we did, we saw You turned your back on me What for do you yearn? Watch that butcher burn.

Geralt’s eyes glanced up at Jaskier, his antagonised gaze glaring back at him. He restrained himself from looking away but it was easier said than done for Jaskier’s grey eyes pulled him in closer, the melodic tune ringing louder. 

At the end of my days when I'm through No word that I've written will ring quite as true as "burn!" Burn, butcher, burn! Burn, butcher, burn! Burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn... Watch me burn all the memories of you.

Silence creep into the halls like the shadows that lurked beneath the candle lights. A chill prickled against Geralt’s skin as he watched Jaskier stare back at him, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He did not say a word for he did not know what to say. For what words could comfort him expect the words he sung from his sorrowful, blue lips. 

Jaskier waited for something to utter from the White Wolf’s mouth. A whimper, a loathsome bite, anything. But he heard nothing at all. 

A scoff escaped his lips as his eyes lingered on Geralt. It was foolish of him to expect anything less from the Witcher for he was the same man who left him alone on the top of the mountain with nothing but his fraigle heart to guide him down the steep path. Perhaps it is true what they say about these monsters from Kaer Morhen...They feel nothing. 

And with not a damned thing left to say, Jaskier took his lute and hopped off the table before storming out of the hall. Geralt twisted his lips, his eyes wincing at the sound of the door slamming against the wall. He watched as the candles shivered at the unexpected gust of wind that came their way before returning to a wilful ember. He took one last look at the them before placing his folded arms on the table in front of him, his head resting against his muscled skin. The lament replayed in his head over and over again. The words piercing deeper and deeper with each breathe. But he listened and listened until his eyes finally closed shut.

Geralt hesitated for a moment before resting his hand alongside Jaskier’s neck, his thumb brushing against his jaw. He watched anxiously as Jaskier lowered his gaze, his eyes hiding beneath his shabby brown hair. 

Geralt found it hard to read his thoughts, though in the past it was easier to tell how he felt, for his loud mouth revealed it all. But here in this moment, he wished he would say something, anything, for the lingering silence was aching torture, tormenting him with very passing second. 

Nevertheless, Geralt found that he did not need to wait any longer for he soon felt Jaskier’s chin brush against his thumb, leaning into his touch. He breathed a sigh of relief before moving his hand to cup Jaskier’s cheek, the chill of his skin biting against his. 

Jaskier pressed his cheek further against Geralt’s palm, his lips grazing the roughness of his skin. “You hurt me.” 

Geralt did not say a word for he did not know what to say... he knew it was the truth. He had left him up on the mountains those many years ago with nothing but the sting of his venomous words to carry him home. What else could he say to console him? What words could undo the pain he had already caused?

Jaskier raised his head slowly, his misty-eyes fixed on the man in front of him. “You hurt me.”

Geralt could feel his breath hasten as he stared back at the bard. His lips forming into a twist as he tried to conjure up words of solace but to no avail his silence remained. 

Jaskier’s gaze lingered on Geralt for a moment, waiting for anything to utter from his lips. But when he heard nothing at all, his eyes closed shut. Soon, a tear trailed down his cheek, dampening his skin. Geralt caressed the wet area with his thumb and Jaskier leaned in, surrendering himself to the warmth of his embrace. But soon he let go, removing himself from Geralt’s touch. 

“Jaskier—“ Geralt pleaded, but the bard was already walking out of the cell, his figure getting further and further away from him. 

Geralt lowered his head, his feet twisting the hay beneath him. He let out a deep sigh before following on after the heartbroken bard. 

When Eddie finally bends down on one knee and proposes to Buck after what seems like a lifetime of yearning and longing for his best friend. But Buck is a bit sceptical of the gesture because he can not comprehend that someone would want to spend the rest of their lives with him. Everyone who he as ever cared for as left him. Maddie, Chimney, Abby, Ali, his parents... but not Eddie. He is still here, and yet, he can’t help but ask:

“Why me?” 

Eddie almost scoffed, surprised that Buck did not know the answer. Instead a smile escaped through his lips. He knew that Buck was someone who did not believe that he could be loved, there were days when he believed that he did not deserve it too. But Eddie would show him. He would remind him every single day. 

“Because you are the reason.”