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.
