Chapter Text
“Where’s Geralt?” Jaskier asked, yawning as he came downstairs.
Eskel shook his head. “He said he had some hunting to do, and that we shouldn’t expect him back till tonight. Did you sleep well?”
Jaskier smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to Eskel’s cheek as he sat down. “Very well, thank you.”
“I’m glad to see you don’t appear to have a hangover.”
Jaskier glanced around at the rest of the room.
Lambert and Aiden were on the other side of the table, both extremely hungover if the glassy stares and lack of conversation were any indication.
“Perhaps Yennefer would be willing to make you a hangover cure?” Eskel suggested, and Lambert barely lifted his hand to flip Eskel off before returning to his food.
“She already did,” Aiden explained, his voice so quiet Jaskier wasn’t sure he would have heard it before. “This is after the cure.”
Eskel winced. “Got a bit carried away?”
Jaskier looked up as he heard steps coming down the stairs, and a minute later Yennefer was stepping into the main hall. “Ah, good, you’re awake.” She grabbed food and sat down across from Jaskier. “I’m being called away to Aretuza- gods know what they want from me now- but I’ll be gone for a little while. I’m still researching what happened to you, and while I’m there I can try to access Stregobor’s study, see if he left any notes on what he did. While I’m gone I want you to focus on what you know you can do. Work with the others, focus on your strength, your meditation, and your invisibility. Those will help you the most. I should be back in about a month or so, provided I don’t kill the brotherhood.”
Jaskier glanced over at Eskel at that last one, but he just shrugged.
He couldn’t tell if she was serious either then.
“…Thank you, for all your help,” he managed, despite the way his throat closed over at talking to a mage.
Yennefer smiled kindly, reaching a hand over and clasping his. “Just remember: your body may have changed, but you’re still the same person on the inside. You still have the same drive you always did.”
Then she turned back to her food, and Jaskier focused on his, trying to sort through that.
Still the same person, eh?
He didn’t really want to be though.
The person he’d been before… yes, there were parts of his past life he missed. He missed being able to write music, to play his lute. To feel the song completely encompass him.
He didn’t miss the loneliness though.
Didn’t miss the feeling that he was constantly on the run, dodging the reputation that overshadowed even his moment as a bard.
…Would they still treat him the same, if they knew?
It was part of why Stregobor had been able to make him forget everything so easily.
He’d already been trying to.
“Everything alright up there?” Eskel asked, even as Vesemir entered the room, scowling at the drunk Witchers.
Jaskier nodded.
“Good. I think Vesemir wants to have you practice meditation again, so you’re going to be in your head a bit today.”
Jaskier groaned.
Focus on the candle.
Right.
Boring.
He tried to focus on it, he really did.
But then he felt Vesemir gently shaking him awake, and he realized he’d dozed off.
“It’s not easy,” Vesemir informed him as he started apologizing, “and it takes practice. My goal is to have you able to meditate with assistance by the time you head out onto the path next spring with one of the others. It will be crucial to helping you remain visible.”
Jaskier blinked. “With assistance? Where’s this assistance now?”
Vesemir chuckled, nodding to the candle.
It took a moment.
“Wait- focusing on the candle is the assistance?”
“What did I tell you meditation was?” Vesemir asked, and Jaskier thought back to yesterday.
Before the realization he was more monster than man now.
“…The art of focus?”
“Exactly. Not the art of watching a candle. The candle is a tool. Once you’re used to it, anything can be meditation. Listening to your body, crafting your potions, playing your lute.” Jaskier perked up at that one. “Meditation for Witchers is powerful, because it allows us to regain some of the energy we’d usually require sleep for.”
Jaskier wanted to ask how that worked, but he was slightly scared of what the answer would be.
“Go find Eskel, he’ll continue your training.”
Eskel had him focus on a strange form of strength training, where he focused on not breaking whatever he was holding.
They started with durable stones, and when Jaskier proved that he could easily hold them without breaking them, Eskel had him practice breaking off as small a piece as he could, while keeping the rest intact.
Careful, precise, deliberate use of his strength.
He was terrible at it.
After the fifth stone crumbled in his hands, Jaskier sat down, shaking his head. “It’s no use,” he bemoaned. “I’m cursed to break everything I touch from now on.”
Eskel frowned, before kneeling down next to Jaskier, and extending his hand. “Shake my hand,” he instructed.
Jaskier blinked, but did as Eskel instructed.
Eskel didn’t let go.
“Um…”
“Squeeze, gently.”
“But what if I hurt you?”
“Then I’m a Witcher, and I heal quickly. Squeeze my hand.”
“I’m not going to hurt you!” Jaskier protested, trying to pull away, but Eskel didn’t let go.
“Then don’t. Just squeeze my hand. Just a little.”
Jaskier swallowed, absolutely terrified, but applied as little pressure as he possibly could.
Eskel flinched a little, and Jaskier could hear bones creaking, and he immediately let go.
“sh*t, are you okay?!”
Eskel still didn’t let go of his hand.
“I’m fine,” he promised, “you haven’t hurt me, no broken bones or anything. Try that again, but gentler.”
“I’m- Eskel, I- I can’t-“
“sh*t-“ Eskel immediately let go, pulling Jaskier into a hug. “Hey, hey, you’re alright, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Tears were streaming down Jaskier’s face as he clung to Eskel, shaking.
He couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t do this.
“You did wonderfully,” Eskel promised him, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so proud of you. You were as gentle as you knew how to be, and I promise, I’m completely fine, you didn’t hurt me.”
Jaskier nodded shakily, and after several moments felt safe enough to step back, about to ask if Eskel was sure he wasn’t hurt, when the front gate opened up, and Geralt came back, leading a horse.
A horse that was hauling a tarp full of dead geese.
Eskel groaned. “Oh that dramatic ass.”
From the tone Jaskier concluded that Eskel was insulting Geralt, not complimenting his stunning back, but he wasn’t sure what exactly the problem was.
“Jaskier,” Geralt called. “If you’re still working on your strength, want to help me pull the feathers off of these?”
Pulling feathers took significant focus, but it only took halfway through a single goose to figure out how to pinch the feather just right so as to not damage it as he pulled it out.
And Geralt had managed collect what looked like a hundred geese.
“Why?” Eskel asked, as Geralt helped Jaskier defeather them.
“We were low on meat, and didn’t have enough feathers,” Geralt explained, as if that answered anything.
Apparently to Eskel it did. “There are other things to make mattresses from.”
“He deserves the best.”
Eskel pinched the bridge of his nose, before shaking his head and heading inside. “I’ll tell Vesemir he’ll need to prep geese for cold storage then.”
Jaskier didn’t understand what was happening, but he also didn’t care.
This was fun, and he couldn’t hurt anyone if he messed it up.
