Chapter Text
“She didn't say! I swear, I’ve been set up! This is outrageous!” Jaskier struggled in the hold of two burly men as they dragged him toward the jail house for the town
“Silence!” shouted the Alderman’s son, his face beetroot red as he followed behind their party, “You soiled my gorgeous Mary. You have no right to speak.”
Jaskier couldn't stop a snort, ceasing his struggles so that he could fix the young man with a skeptical look, “Do you really think I was the first one? She certainly wasn't any sort of blushing maiden.” Jaskier’s breath left his body when the asshole kicked him in the gut. Jaskier was speechless and gasping all the way to their destination, at which point his struggles returned, “Surely we don’t have to resort to this.” he tried to bargain as one of the heavy wooden doors was being keyed open, “I mean, I could just leave. Never to return. Surely that…”
“Shut up!” the Alderman’s son practically screamed as he struck Jaskier across the face with a closed fist, “Rot away forever with the rest of the filth!”
And, at that, Jaskier was chucked unceremoniously into the cell. His face hit the ground as he heard the door behind him slam shut with a bang that echoed off the stone walls. For a moment he just lay there and groaned. The pain in his nose wasn't enough for it to be broken. But that punch made his teeth feel loose. Hopefully that was just his imagination.
“Are you alright?”
The oddly accented voice made Jaskier start in shock and sit up swiftly. He had assumed he’d be alone in this cell. He’d assumed wrongly. Jaskier examined his new cellmate with interest and hesitancy. The inquiry into his health could be a good sign, but you never knew. Especially with someone in such…interesting clothing. Loose, dark trousers made of some thick looking material that Jaskier couldn't identify simply by sight. A coat of the same material and color, expect for trim that was dyed a truly saturated blue. That same blue was the color of a thin looking shirt of unknown cut that could be seen through the open coat. The man, for it was a man, was looking at Jaskier from behind a truly elegant looking pair of spectacles, his mouse colored hair flying off in a few separate directions. He was leaning against the far wall of the cell looking oddly at ease for a man in jail. For some reason, despite all of these odd things, Jaskier could only seem to focus on one particular fact.
“Where are your shoes?” Jaskier asks instead of answering the question originally presented to him
The man smirks bitterly and wiggles his toes which are only covered in a thin white cloth, “They took them. Too good for me it seems.”
Jaskier snorted, “Yeah, same thing with me. Just a beautiful woman instead of shoes.”
The man’s smirk lost its bitter edge, “Worth it?” he asks while raising an eyebrow
Jaskier takes a moment to consider that. Mary had been talented and enthusiastic. And very, very imaginative. He returned the man’s smirk, “Very.”
The man chuckled, “I would call you lucky but…” he sends a pointed look around their cell
“Yes, indeed.” Jaskier sighed and got more comfortable against his own wall, “I don’t expect to be here long though. My companion shall come for me.”
“Again, we share something.” the man admits with mild amusement, “My friends will be looking by now. Maybe they will come together, eh?”
“Perhaps we should make a competition out of it, to pass the time.” Jaskier suggested, “Whoever gets sprung first wins.”
“Sounds fun.” the man says with only partial sarcasm, though his smile never wavers.
“Doesn't it just?” Jaskier looks the man over again and decides to just ask, “Where are you from with clothing like that?”
That gets an unsure frown, “Answering that got me thrown in here.” he admits reluctantly
Jaskier can’t stop his eyes from widening in shock, “Really?!” He takes a moment to ponder that. The riverside town of Nailton isn't in the middle of nowhere, nor is it overly ignorant or violent. It’s a semi-bustling hub of trade for several kingdoms. Locking someone up for their origin seems counterproductive for such a place.
The man nods and sighs as he lets his head fall back so he can glance at the cracked stone ceiling, “Superstitious nonsense.” he grumbles, “Technology is not magic. I did nothing wrong.”
“Teknowlogey?” Jaskier asks, trying to repeat the forigen sounding word, “What is that?”
The man snorts, gaze still fixed on the ceiling, “That is what they asked. But not as nice.” he looks back at Jaskier, now clearly annoyed, “They destroyed my scanner. Called it cursed. Was not cursed. Was rare and expensive.”
Jaskier winces. He’s not sure what a scanner is. But he’d lost many an expensive thing to angry, ignorant people. So he offers the stranger a sympathetic smile and says, “Well, at least they didn't do anything worse than take your shoes and destroy a few things. Some places on the Continent would have hung you for bringing a cursed object anywhere near the town.”
“Phaa!” The man laughs almost mockingly, fixing Jaskier with a look usually reserved for children who said something amusing, “Magic and curses are not real. Is just technology that we do not understand yet.”
Jaskier blinked for a few moments. When the man just continued to look smug Jaskier cleared his throat, “I…I’m not sure where you’re from. But you should know, here, Magic is very much real. I know a few people personally who use it on a very regular basis. Sometimes to a rather extreme degree.” he’s not really sure how to argue his point. He’s never had a discussion like this. Everyone on the Continent knew Magic was real. Likewise those from Skellige and Zerikania to Jaskier’s own knowledge. To encounter someone who denied the very nature of their world was…astounding, “My companion, the one who will come for me, not only uses some Magic but is the result of it as well.” Jaskier decided to explain a bit further when the man simply frowned and raised an eyebrow, “He’s what’s known as a Witcher. He hunts monsters and beasts of all kinds. In fact, as we speak, he is after something hiding in a cave. Supposedly a band…of…” Jaskier felt something sink in his stomach as the man across from him started to widen his eyes in understanding, “...cursed Sorcerers.”
“Oh no.” the man said bleakly, “The cave is North, yes?”
“Yes.” Jaskier confirmed, starting to squirm with his unease, “You don’t think…”
“I do.” the man nodded grimly
For a moment they just stare at each other. Jaskier wonders if the man’s friends will try to fight Geralt before talking to him. Of course the Witcher would much rather discuss a peaceful solution. But depending on what they said or implied, things might get messy. He opens his mouth to say something when…
BOOM BOOM BOOM
Jaskier lets out a yelp and scrambles to his feet at the horribly loud sound. There are screams coming from outside. Jaskier rushes over to the tiny barred window that provides the only light for the cell and peers out. People are running in various directions, a few of the larger men fighting their way against the flow of the main crowd to try and fight whatever danger is threatening their town. Jaskier turns to ask the other man what he thinks might be happening and pauses. The man is smirking again. He winks at Jaskier, “I think I win our game.”
BOOM BOOM
Jaskier squeals this time, scuttling away from the window and pressing himself against the wall again. A single pained howl can be heard over the sounds of people fleeing and screaming anew, “What…what are they doing?”
“Probably shooting in the air.” another agonised wail comes from outside, “And perhaps someone rude.”
“Shooting? Like a bow?” Jaskier had never heard a bow make such a sound. Usually the whole point was to make no noise and strike from afar.
“We call them guns. They are weapons. Shoots small bits of metal very fast.” the man explains just before the sound of a door slamming open comes from the main room of the jail. Then, a new voice is calling out. This time it’s female and holds yet another accent that Jaskier hasn't heard that is different from his cellmate’s.
“Radek!?”
“In here!” the man, apparently Radek, said as he slowly got to his bare feet, “And I’m not alone.”
“Oh come now, did you have to tell them that?” Jaskier asked weakly, feeling incredibly nervous that he was about to be shot with a gun, whatever the fuck that was
Before Radek can answer, the door is being unlocked. When it opens Jaskier tries not to flinch away. A woman, about Jaskier’s height, now stands in the doorway. Her clothing is almost entirely black, except for places where it’s a light grey. It seems to be made of the same forgien material as Radek’s clothes. She also wears the oddest looking helmet on her head, strapped under her chin. There is a strange vest wrapped around her torso that holds a seemingly endless amount of pockets. But the thing that draws most of Jaskier’s attention is the oddly shaped black metal she holds like it’s dangerous. Is that a gun?
She gives him a quick once over, “Who is this?”
Radek turns and says, “I did not ask.”
Jaskier straightens slightly and clears his throat, “Master Bard Jaskier, at your service.”
The woman barks a surprised laugh, “A Bard, really?”
Jaskier relaxes slightly at her obvious glee, “Yes my lady. A wrongly imprisoned one, might I add.”
“Did not sound like you were innocent.” Radek points out with a cheeky smile
“She wasn’t either.” Jaskier counters, “She made no mention of a betrothal.”
The woman warrior laughs again, “Yep, that’s a Bard.” she inclines her head to the side, “Want to join our jail break?”
“I’d follow a lady anywhere.” Jaskier flirts without thinking. Luckily the woman just laughs again and turns to walk away. Radek follows, Jaskier hot on his heels with no better options. When they exit the building Jaskier sees the source of the pained yells. It’s the Alderman’s son. He’s on the ground, clutching his freely bleeding calf, and has one of those gun things pointed at his head. The man holding the weapon looks severely unimpressed. The Square around them is deserted. Jaskier isn't surprised by that fact given the noise and previously thought curse.
When the Alderman’s son takes notice of their escape party his screams grow somehow louder, “YOU! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! YOU AND THAT WITCHER ARE IN IT TOGETHER WITH THIS LOT! I’LL HAVE YOU ALL HANGED!”
Jaskier, no longer the weaker man in the equation, walks over and glares at the asshole, “Shut up you fly-dicked pissant. And learn to use your tongue for something other than insulting those you deem to be below you.” he smirks, “Mary will appreciate it.”
“WHY YOU UTTER…”
Jaskier doesn't wait to hear the end of the shrieked insult. Instead, he returns the favor from earlier and slams his closed and ringed fist into the man’s face. The man doesn't make a sound as he fully crumples into the dirt, stiff and unresponsive. Jaskier shakes his fist out and turns to the slightly impressed looking group watching him, “Do you mind if we stop at the Inn on the way out of town? All my things are there.”
“Sure.” The woman warrior still looks oddly giddy as she asks, “Do you have a lute?”
“Madame, if you weren't forgien I’d be insulted by that question. But as you’re new to the land I’ll forgive you.” Jaskier says as he starts heading for the Inn
“Not Madame. Lieutenant Conners.” the woman corrects, still with a smile
“I shall remember Lieutenant.” Jaskier returns respectfully
“Anyone want to fill me in?” asks the other warrior, his gun now held to the ready at his side instead of pointing at anything.
Lieutenant Conners beams at her companion, “He’s a Bard, Douglas.”
“Really!?” The man, Douglas, runs forward a few steps to get closer to Jaskier as they walk. He seems to be examining Jaskier like a rare animal, “I guess that explains the clothes. A lot more colorful than what we’ve seen so far.”
“I do my best.” Jaskier preened under the attention, “Though I feel I must ask, does your land lack for music? You seem rather stunned. Not that I’m not stunning of course.” he flutters his eyelashes at Douglas who blushes slightly and falters in his step for a moment.
“We have music.” Radek answers, “But no Bards. Not for a long time.”
Jaskier hums with interest as they reach the Inn. He pauses and considers his situation. Then he directs a pleading look at the Lieutenant, “I hate to bother, but could you escort me upstairs? I fear my reception will not be a welcoming one given the situation.”
The Lieutenant’s smile sharpened, “I’ll cover your rear.”
Jaskier returned the smile, “You are a wonderful type of trouble Lieutenant. This way.”
As Jaskier predicted, the only reason he wasn't immediately set upon by angry townsfolk was the presence of the soldier next to him. He had to hand it to Lieutenant Conners, her glare could rival a Witcher’s. While she guards the top of the stairs Jaskier rushes to his shared room to collect all the possessions inside. Geralt will probably complain later about the order that Jaskier has set his things into, but that’s a future problem to be dealt with when danger is less prevalent. Jaskier’s shoulders sag under the weight of so much luggage but he somehow manages to carry all of it alone.
The Lieutenant raises an eyebrow at the sight of him so Jaskier informs her, “My companion is out of town at present. I figured this would be the easier option.” she nods in understanding and leads them back outside where Douglas and Radek await them. A few brave souls have ventured outside and someone has taken the unconscious Alderman’s son away. Without another word the group just starts heading for the edge of town. And as they approach the tree line, Radek remembers one very important thing.
“Is your friend still hunting us?” he asks it so casually that for a moment Jaskier isn't sure what he’s talking about. But, as Radek explains his question to his own companions, Jaskier recalls what Geralt is meant to be doing right now.
“Oh, yes, probably. Since he wasn't in town.” Jaskier pauses in his step before continuing forward with confidence, “As long as your other friends are as well-spoken as you, it shouldn't be a problem. Geralt prefers not to hurt anything that can think for itself, human-shaped or not.”
“Human-shaped?” Douglas asks with a raised eyebrow
Jaskier opens his mouth to answer but Radek snorts and says, “Monsters, apparently. And Magic.” The two soldiers grin while Radek shoots Jaskier that same derisive smirk from before in the cell.
Jaskier squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest a bit, “Now see here, I’ll not be treated like some naive child. I graduated with honors from Oxenfurt University and have traveled this Continent for two decades. You’ll see once we find Geralt. Then you shall be enjoying the bitter taste of crow, mark my words!”
There is a round of sarcastic nods before the Lieutenant asks, “What does your friend look like anyway? In case we bump into him on the way back.”
Jaskier beamed to himself as he brought a vision of Geralt to his mind’s eye, “Oh, he’s marvelous. Slightly taller than myself, broad, two swords on his back, covered head to toe in plain armor. I tried adding a splash of red once but he said it just gave him away during hunts. As if he doesn't already have a wonderful head of eye-catching hair.” Jaskier sighs, “Such a shame. It does look wonderful with his pale skin. But the man is more stubborn than an ox.” Jaskier lets his voice fall and adds a bit of gravel, “Witchers shouldn't stand out Jaskier. We have enough trouble to deal with already.” Jaskier gives an indigent snort on behalf of his companion, “Honestly, he acts like I haven't improved his reputation. Sure, there are the occasional ignorant people. But most understand these days that Witchers, at least Wolf Witchers, are only around to help. And it’s not like they asked for such a horrible job. Why, if it wasn't for the Law of Sur…”
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM
Jaskier fell to the ground instantly, years on the Path having him scurry over to the closest tree and try to become one with it while looking around for danger. His traveling companions had all frozen, hands going for their own weapons. When no more noises came the Lieutenant reached for one of her many pockets, clearly looking for something.
“That…that was a gun, correct?” Jaskier asked in a quiet whisper
Instead of answering, the Lieutenant pulled a small black box from her vest and pushed something on the side of it. There was an odd chirp from the device before Lieutenant Conners spoke into it, her face serious, “Johnson, report. We heard shots.” For a moment everyone, including Jaskier, looked at the black box. When nothing happened, the Lieutenant brought it back to her mouth, “Report.” she repeated simply. Again, nothing happened. As she lowered the box to her side she fixed that same serious expression on Jaskier, her eyes no longer happy as she looked him over, “You said your friend would rather talk, correct?”
“Yes, always.” Jaskier tried to assure, “Even with Werewolves and Trolls.”
“This isn't a game!” She seemed frustrated by his response
\ “It never is, dear lady.” Jaskier replies in a level tone, hoping to keep her calm, “I’m not sure why your comrade used his weapon. It’s possible it was Geralt, I won’t deny that. But there are worse things in these woods. Even if you don’t think monsters exist, you surely must believe in dangerous wild animals.” No one seemed sympathetic to his plight. Even Radek looked suspicious and mildly angry.
As a result of their suspicions the rest of the walk was slow and quiet. Mostly because Jaskier’s mouth had been covered by some kind of sticky paper from one of the male soldier's many pockets, and his wrists bound in some kind of stiff rope that had an oddly designed knot that didn't actually need to be tied. It was a bit overkill in Jaskier’s opinion. As was having Douglas cover the rear, his gun trained just off to the side of Jaskier’s back. The Bard could only hope the man wouldn't trip and set the horribly loud contraption off. And, as good as they were at sneaking, Jaskier doubted they would actually catch Geralt by surprise. If he was even indeed responsible for their comrades' apparent lack of response at all. It could be that these oddly ignorant folk were walking right into the jaws of one of the monsters they didn't believe in.
Regardless of the truth, they eventually reached a clearing right before a cave mouth on the side of a small hill. It looked truly ancient. The vines that had been hiding it for Gods knew how long were freshly cut to make a hole that acted as the entrance. And, directly beside that entrance, was a man in a black uniform tied to a tree. The helmet was missing though, showing a head of short red hair.
“I wish I could scan for life signs.” Radek whispered worriedly
“People don’t usually tie up the dead like they’ll run away.” Lieutenant Conners pointed out wisely
Jaskier sent a look around the clearing, trying to spot where Geralt might be. The cave itself was a bit too obvious. As was behind the tree where the soldier was tied. Perhaps the bushes close by? Or…Jaskier didn't move, just let his eyes drift slowly upward. There, a flash of white amongst the green. Jaskier blinked and returned his gaze to the back of the Lieutenant’s head. He wished he could speak. Perhaps he could have addressed the air and let it know this was all a big misunderstanding. Instead, things were about to get complicated.
Between one second and the next, the ground glowed a deep lilac. Everything slowed down in a way Jaskier had never experienced from this side. The shock and confusion on those around him was instant, their bodies moving in a way that indicated it should be swift and efficient. Instead, it was like trying to move against thick sap. A figure clad in armor dropped from above. Steel flashed, guns were snatched and tossed before they could aim, and Jaskier found himself plucked up at what felt like lightning speed. Stepping out of the affected area was like coming out of a deep dive. His first breath of air made him cough out behind his gag.
They made it over by the restrained soldier before the Yrden fell. The group’s looks of surprise and rising hate were concerning.
“He’s a fucking Wraith worshiper!? Seriously?!” Lieutenant Conners sounded so disappointed
“That does not seem right.” Radek commented with a furrowed brow, “Unless the whole village was taking part.”
“There are no wraiths here.” Geralt growled, “And no Sorcerers either it seems. Apparently, you're not above kidnapping though.” The Witcher slowly lowered Jaskier so he could stand properly on his own two feet.
Once Jaskier was steady he reached up and ripped the odd gag off his face. Or at least he tried to. He got about halfway before the pain of it caught up with him and he screamed, letting it go, “Fucking Hell!” he managed to get out of his half-sealed mouth, “What is this horrible thing?”
Geralt shot him a worried look but kept his sword at the ready in case the now unarmed group attempted to charge them, “Why take the Bard?”
“Why do you care? Worried about your little snack?” hissed Douglas, something so angry sparking up behind his eyes
“Witchers don’t eat humans.” Geralt growled. That had never been his favorite misconception about himself and his brothers.
Jaskier winced as he tried to slowly pry the rest of his gag off while also attempting to clear the air a bit, “There was a misunderstanding after you left. I ended up wrongly imprisoned with Radek over there. His comrades came to rescue us and I decided it might be better for the both of us if I came to clear this whole mess up.” the last of the horribly sticky cloth came free and Jaskier sighed with relief, “My word, that was horrible.”
“How does that end with you restrained?” Geralt asked skeptically while using his free hand to pull his boot knife and offer it to Jaskier.
“That would be your fault. You caused this poor fellow to fire his weapon.” Jaskier motioned at the tied soldier while taking the knife and starting to awkwardly attempt freeing his hands, “ And, because he didn't respond to their odd form of communication, they assumed we might be trying to pull one over on them.”
“What else are we supposed to think?” Lieutenant Conners asked grimly as she stared Geralt down with determination, “You never mentioned your friend is a fucking space vampire. If you had, we’d have left you in that cell to rot.”
Jaskier snarled as he managed to break through the odd material of the rope restraining him, “I wish we had been up to something! Would serve you bunch of bigots right! I’ve never said this before, but I refuse to perform for you now. Or teach you about Magic!”
“What do you know about Magic?” Geralt asks sarcastically, apparently unable to let Jaskier defend him properly like always.
“More than these ignorant sods.” Jaskier replies while handing the Witcher back his borrowed blade, “Radek said that Magic isn't real.”
Geralt blinks, the corner of his lip twitches, “Really?” This question is directed at the group instead of Jaskier. There is no response other than continued death glares. Geralt prods a bit more, “What do you call what just happened to you?”
The group exchange a few looks but it’s Radek who answers instead of the Lieutenant, “Was some sort of force field. Short range and most likely restricted to a predetermined area. I have seen similar things. Could probably accomplish myself given enough time and equipment.”
“He says he uses a thing called Teacknowlogey.” Jaskier explained, “They mentioned scanning for life signs, which I suspect works like a localized locator spell.” Geralt shot him a look and Jaskier returned it with a smirk, “See, I do know things. Why is everyone always so surprised? I graduated with honors and everything.”
“Regardless of method, there is no Magic.” Radek stated in irritation, “The fact that you are Wraith proves this.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Geralt asks
“Yes, I’d like to know that too. I’ve seen many wraiths in my years but none have been as handsome as Geralt. Usually they don’t have real eyes for starters, and the floating usually gives it away. Not to mention the horrible wailing.”
“They get it Jaskier.” Geralt took a deep breath after a few moments and lowered his sword, “I don’t want to fight you. But I’ll give you some advice. Go back through that odd portal and never return. The people of this Continent will not be as kind as I was. And if you refuse to take them seriously, they will bury you all.”
“Wait, portal? They have a portal? I thought they didn't use Magic.”
“It is Technology.” Radek defends sternly, though his shoulders look slightly less tense, “However, just to clarify, you said your friend was result of Magic. Is that correct?”
Geralt growled, shooting an irritated look at Jaskier. Jaskier winced, “Well, yes. It’s not something many like to talk about. But it’s well known that the process requires a great deal of Magic and pain.”
“You were born human?” Douglas asks rudely. Geralt just nods in return, his patience clearly wearing thin as he simply takes Jaskier’s arm and whistles loudly
The group before them startles when Roach comes trotting into the clearing as if it’s just another side trip through a meadow. Jaskier can’t help but coo at her as she noses his chest, “Hello sweet girl. I managed to get you a few apples. Give me just a moment.” Jaskier starts going through one of the many bags he’s draped in. Geralt appears to finally notice all the luggage, for he starts to remove some of it from Jaskier’s aching shoulders.
“You’ll make her fat.” Geralt teases them both as he attaches the bags to Roach’s saddle, “Now get on.”
“Geralt, you’d let me ride-”
“Just get on so we can go.” Geralt shoots a wary look at the cave and the group that is slowly starting to approach now that it’s clear there is no imminent danger, “If you angered the townsfolk, they might be coming.”
“Perhaps their fear of Magic will keep them away.” Radek says in an almost mocking tone
“It didn't stop them from slaughtering a good number of my brothers.” Geralt says bluntly, drawing stunned stares from the others, “It won’t stop them from coming after you.”
“Point well made Geralt, if a bit grimly.” Jaskier manages to sneak Roach her promised apple as he straps his lute to her saddle, since apparently he’s getting the rare treat of riding her today. He’ll treasure it now, sure that Geralt has a harsh scolding in mind for later about falling in with dangerous strangers…again, “I’ll admit I’m a bit disappointed I didn't get to play for a new audience. I’m sure you all had wonderful stories to tell. Shame you turned out to be bigoted morons with brains too small to understand the deeper intricacies of the very universe itself. Still, I wish you no ill will. Travel well.” that the last flourish of his rapier sharp tongue Jaskier swung himself up into Roach’s saddle, moving backward so Geralt could get up in front of him.
“Hey, we’re not…” Lieutenant Conners trails off, her eyes falling to his lute for some reason. Something in her expression twists, “Fucking Bards.” she doesn't sound angry, more like resigned and frustrated
Geralt actually snorts and nods in obvious agreement to her sentiment. Then his shoulders stiffen, mirth vanishing instantly. His head tilts in an all to familiar way, “Fuck.” is all he says before turning and bringing his sword down to cut the ropes holding the still unconscious soldier to the tree. He fixes the other group with a serious look, “They’re coming now, not later. Take your comrade and go.” without another word of warning, Geralt leaps up onto Roaches back and sends them hurtling off into the deeper wood. The last glimpse Jaskier catches of them is seeing them rush for their friend. He can hear the town folks cries with his human ears now. Hopefully they can get away.