Jaskier could feel his head throbbing, his eyes were slightly dry and his mouth cracked at the corners. The cell he was in was cold. He couldn't help but wonder how many days had already passed since he got in the predicament.

A rueful smile as he leaned slightly back, looking at the moss growing over the cracks. He could faintly hear the waves breaking against the rocks. How he would do anything to see the waves again for one last time.

This was his fault, Geralt had warned him time and time again that he shouldn't just fuck anyone. That he should at least find out who they were.

A soft sigh left him. Ever since that bloody mountain, it was just easier to fuck and drink and try not to think about it anymore. But the words and the pain felt like it would never leave. That it is all there is to life.

Jaskier didn't even look up when the cell door open. There wasn't much more they can do, the damage was already done. He would never be able to sing or play the lute again.

Geralt almost took a step back when he saw the damage. The scent of sorrow and pain was permitting everywhere. The faint smell of iron told him that there was blood involved and not just the people he had killed today.

He could see even in the faint darkness the way Jaskier's fingers were bent and he knows that there would be nothing any mage would ever be able to do to deal with it.

"Jaskier?" Geralt's voice was cracked from no use.

Jaskier looked up with a start, how many times had he hoped to hear that voice, to see him again. But why now? Why not sooner?

The silence was thick as Geralt searched for the keys to unlocked the shackles. When he finally found it was his own heart beating as fast as a human.

"What happened?" Geralt tried to keep his voice low. But still, Jaskier flinched away from him. His cornflower-blue eyes were almost lifeless.

"Why are you here?" Jaskier tried to glare at Geralt but he could feel the strain already. His heart was breaking again.

Geralt sighs slightly as he unlocked the shackles. "I heard you were captured, I guess I just wanted to make sure you were alright." With an easy movement, he kept Jaskier from falling face-first onto the floor.

Jaskier was silent, even though everything in his body was sore and he felt like death. There was something about being in Geralt's presence again that made him feel calmer than he truly was.

Geralt kept an ear out to see if he could hear anything but the grounds were silent.

"May I pick you up? It is time to leave." Geralt kept his grip steady against Jaskier's shoulder, but he didn't go further than that.

With a small nod from Jaskier, he picked him up bridal style. The hallways echoed the footsteps but there was no other sound.

Geralt gave a small smile when he saw the way Jaskier's eyes lit up when he saw Roach again. The mare gave a neigh as she saw them approaching.

"Hello, Roach." Jaskier wanted to choo over the horse but he decided that it would just be better to give her a slight scratch.

The silence was uncomfortable as they got ready to leave.

Jaskier could feel the last of his energy leaving him. His eyes slowly fell shut. Geralt grunted when Jaskier went limp, he adjusted his grip and with ease got him onto Roach.

He knows that this is his fault, he should have protected Jaskier, but in the end, he just pushed him away like an old mutt. He could only now hope that Triss would be able to help him.

It took a few days before they arrived at Triss. In the evenings Geralt would tend to the wounds as best as he could. The whip marks were clear as day. Some already started to catch infection and some he hopes that the concoction he put onto it would keep infection away.

But unfortunately, he didn't know how to treat Jaskier's fingers. They were bent in ways that he knows would never heal and he was too scared to try and get them into a normal position, so he waited and left them until they got to Triss.

Jaskier kept silent the whole time, his eyes on the ground. He wanted to ask why Geralt suddenly cared but the words were simply gone.

When they finally made it to the cottage where Triss was staying was Jaskier on his last energy. The animals Geralt hunted and tried to make into something he could eat was just plain not enough. His fingers sent sharp pains up into his arms, through the shoulder into the back.

Then he just wanted to cry. Cry knowing that he had lost the last thing he loved the most, to entertain people.

He could faintly hear Geralt and Triss talking, but the words were a mere mumble going by his head. He jumped slightly when a hand touched his shoulder, pushing him into the cottage.

Triss forced a potion down his mouth and then there was just bliss. No more thinking, no more wondering what is going to happen.

"How is he?" Geralt's voice was broken when Triss walked in hours later. Her red hair was drenched in sweat and her face pale.

"He will survive, I tried to correct his fingers but the damage was too severe, he would unfortunately never be able to play the lute again." Triss trailed off slightly. She knows what had happened on the mountain Yenna had talked to her for a long time.

Trying to work out what to do next.

"He might sing again, but we would need to wait and see. What are you going to do Geralt? He went through enough, he doesn't need any more pain." Triss glared at the witcher. Her eyes sharp with anger.

"There is nothing I can do Triss, the only thing that I can possibly do is try and provide for him. Try and be a friend." Geralt gave her a tired look.

He had realised almost immediately after his anger had simmered down what he had done. All he can do now is try and correct his mistakes.

Try and show Jaskier that he can be his friend.

I hope everyone enjoyed this. Please tell me what you think of the story and constructive criticism is always welcome.

I can also be found on Tumblr lover-of-midnight