#am I missing the point of that conclusion entirely or did you forget that elves canonically don't die of old age?

[bookwyrminspiration]

wait wait what the fuck. shannon set up the "immortality ALWAYS comes with a cost" thing with fallon's faulty memory + bronte's needing to keep himself involved so he doesn't lose himself + fintan and vesperas' instability and then just Did Not Talk About It.

Like what about how all of their individual falling aparts come from their abilities? Fallon is a telepath (I'm not bothering to fact check that correct me if I'm wrong) and his mind is wandering, his memory is faulty, he can't stay in the moment. Bronte loses control of himself, he's become cold and stubborn, he has to ball his negative emotions up in his chest to keep from feeling too much. Fintan is unstable like a fire, an infection, he needs to consume everything in his path and maybe or maybe not let something new grow from the ashes; fire is vengeful. vespera has gone numb and that's what happens when you feel too many emotions for too long! you lose yourself!

that's a symptom of being an ancient!! you lose yourself!!

exploring this as a parallel to fitz, sophie, marella, and keefe is interesting as well because you're seeing all these ancients fall apart and it's because of their ability. Keefe already is going numb. Marella can barely keep control. Sophie ties her emotions around themselves. Fitz loses his mind in his emotions. They know that this could happen to them. It will.

For some reason, it's never talked about how immortality (or indefinite life) is the perfect circumstance for a mind to break. Maybe elves don't die. maybe they're exiled because the weight of the years shattered them.

Oo and excellent observation and conversational topic. What really stands out to me about it is that's it's an inevitability. It's not you might lose yourself to your ability, it's not you might become unstable, it's not you might have to fight against it. It's that you live forever, so there is no escaping it. You live forever, so you will live long enough to experience the disconnect of a world moving on around you. You will live long enough that you will either have to fight to stay present--like Bronte--or distance yourself--like Fallon and other ancients. And if you chose to fight, then you will keep living, long enough that there will come a time you cannot continue to win. Perhaps you can stay in a stalemate for a while, but it will grow increasingly difficult and eventually will reach a point of no return.

And! It never ends! Elves live forever. Unless they die via unnatural means (fire, squashed, drowned, fell down the stairs bella swan style) they are going to just. Be experiencing that forever. There is no anticipated ending to losing themselves, they just continuously do so forever and ever. Some can hold on longer than others, are more present than others at the same point in time, but we're speaking in infinities! That dwarfs it all. Unless they finally discover a natural end to their lifespan, it's all practically inevitable.

But yeah, Shannon has not covered this. Likely because 1. it's horrifying, and 2. it's completely irrelevant to the battle's Sophie is facing. She has eternity in front of her, and eternity to come to terms with her lifespan. Right now she's got other things on her plate than contemplating how long she'll live and what she'll do with it and what'll happen to her. But also I think. It may have been unintentional on Shannon's part, to create such a consequence. Not that she's completely ignoring it, as she has separated the ancients from everyone else to an extent and characterized them differently. But the idea of losing yourself inevitably with time? Probably not what she meant, at least that's my assumption based on what she's intended with the rest of her world. However, maybe i'm wrong and not giving her enough credit! perhaps she knows about that, but just doesn't cover it because it doesn't fit the vibe of the series or her intended audience.

Who knows! Either way, it is a very interesting and also horrifying thought. Thanks for prompting it!

[bunnimew]

Subtle Tells and Coral Bells

Rating: T Fandom: Rise of the Guardians  Relationship: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Characters: Everyone else Tags: Hanahaki Disease, Humor, Fluff, Because it's me Chapter: 1/3? Summary:  For RotG Halloween 2020: Day 5 @rotg-halloween

Jack doesn't know what it means when he's just talking to Jamie like normal and then suddenly coughing up petals, which is definitely *not* normal, but he hopes the other Guardians will.

Whatever it is, it's gotta be an easy fix, right?

Right?

On AO3 Here.

-o-

Jack laughed as Pitch wiggled his hips in a way that was equal parts sexy and ridiculous. Nothing was helped by the fact that the man was a beanpole and the only shape to him was his ass. 

“If I tell Jamie to do that, he’ll never speak to me again.”

Pitch waved him off. “Jamie’s a child. Their memories are remarkably short.”

Jack shrugged. “I dunno, Pitch. Jamie’s a teenager now. They can hold a grudge.”

“Well, what’s he expecting, then? Asking a spirit to teach him to dance?”

Jack stood and made his way over to where Pitch had been demonstrating some ‘moves.’ “He’s thinking I’ve been around three hundred years and I should have figured this out by now.” Which, “And he’s not wrong.”

Pitch rolled his eyes and took Jack’s hands in his, guiding him into a gentle sway. “Not everyone likes to dance. I can’t even count the number of simple nightmares I’ve brought that were nothing more than forcing someone to dance when they didn’t want to.”

Jack stared at their feet, focused on trying to match his steps to whatever soundless beat Pitch was moving to. “I mean, I like to dance. I just do more of a ‘Nymph in the woods’ thing than a ‘highschool Halloween dance’ kinda thing.”

Pitch smiled at him indulgently. “And it’s beautiful to watch, Jack.”

Jack snorted and accused, “Flirt.”

“You can’t blame an old spirit for trying,” Pitch said, and Jack interrupted.

“Yes I can.”

But Pitch continued as if he’d said nothing. “The most important thing will be not letting his head get in the way. To dance, you must move, and to move, you must not freeze.”

“I better steer clear, then.”

Pitch let go of Jack’s hand to swat his arm. “Are you trying to help the boy or not, Jack?”

Jack bit his lips to temper his smile and grabbed Pitch’s hand again. “Sorry, sorry. It’s really hard for me to take things seriously.”

“We,” Pitch said with a straight face, “literally all of us, already know that.”

“Okay, so, I tell him to not think too hard, and then what?” Jack was staring at their feet again. “Are you thinking of a particular song right now?”

Pitch hummed and shook his head. “No, just a basic one, two, three, four… Every song follows the same sort of count, just at different tempos. For example,“ Pitch continued to count out loud as he led Jack through a step and a twirl and a spin. “You could fit that into almost any song, as long as you set the steps to the appropriate beat.”

Jack closed his eyes and let Pitch lead him. His center was feeling so fulfilled and warm right now. Whatever Pitch might have said about not everyone liking to dance, both of them certainly enjoyed it, even if Jack had no idea how to dance with someone else after three centuries on this earth. At least, not to this millenia’s standards. 

This was how Pitch felt when he was out scaring people. When he was scaring Jack. Nothing like a quiet night to remind Jack how lucky he was that his center was something people generally liked. 

Jack finally opened his eyes again to find Pitch had twirled them all around the forest clearing they were standing in. His conclusion? Jamie ought to just find someone else who was good at this and let them handle the rest. Clearly Jack didn’t have to be good at all, as long as his partner was. 

“I’m not sure how to tell Jamie how to do this.” Also, Jack was pretty sure high school dances didn’t involve ballroom this much.

Pitch didn’t seem concerned. “Probably best to just remind him that in ten years, nobody is really going to care what he looked like dancing on Halloween. Those sort of nightmares are only effective through high school. About half-way into college, nobody gives half a shit anymore. Then the nightmares are about crying their way through tests and forgetting vital pieces of paperwork. Humans have very specific priorities, Jack.”

Jack laughed and stumbled despite Pitch basically carrying him through the dance. Pitch was pretty great for keeping Jack’s perspective down to earth. The other Guardians would definitely have let him get caught up in the hopes and dreams and ideas of perfect nights and fantastic dates. 

Sometimes, when everything goes wrong, that’s when you have the most fun.

“Alright, that’s fair,” Jack said. “I still think he’s going to call me a traitor for not actually teaching him anything.”

Pitch stopped and gave Jack an innocently wide-eyed look. “But I thought you were used to that?”

Jack dropped his jaw. The nerve of this man. It was Jack’s turn to let go and smack Pitch. “That was your fault!”

Pitch cackled. Actually cackled. Jack called himself a traitor for finding it at all attractive. “You can’t just blame everything on me, Jack. When are you going to take some personal responsibility?”

Jack snorted. “I take plenty of responsibility for the shit I actually do, Pitch. Half of North’s elves will never be the same and that is entirely my doing. Now shut up and teach me how to dance, Old Man.”

Pitch scoffed, but obligingly lifted his arms up toward the moon and swayed to an unheard beat, beginning yet another explanation about how it was all in the music.

-o-

Jamie stared at Jack with such an expression of unimpressed disappointment that Jack kind of wanted to hop out the window, come back in, and re-try this whole conversation. 

“That’s not how you dance, Jack.”

Jack threw up his hands. “I told Pitch you wouldn’t like it, but that was all he’d give me!” He sighed and leaned back against Jamie’s desk, littered with notebooks and writing utensils, at least six pencil can’s worth. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I was a teenager three hundred years ago. We danced differently back then.”

But Jamie was giving him a Look. One of those Teenager Specials complete with the ‘Are you stupid?’ furrow and the ‘Excuse me, what?’ chin drop. Apparently Jack had said something unacceptable. 

“What?”

“You asked Pitch?” 

Oh. Well. Jack hadn’t meant to admit that. 

“I mean,” he tried to explain, “he dances a lot more than me. Pitch actually, like… tries.” 

Jamie rolled his eyes and Jack knew he was lost. “That doesn’t mean you ask the Boogeyman about it! What kind of dance does he do, anyway? The monster mash?”

Jack felt his brows come together. “Is that a dance?” Kids came up with fads so fast, but Jack shook his head because that wasn’t important. “I mean, he does them all? He told me everything I told you.”

Jamie put a perfect mockery of impressed on his face. “And that was so much.” 

The kid had a point, but Jack wasn’t going to tell him that. “He knows a lot, I swear! It’s just that most dances are ballroom, and neither of us thinks that’s going to come up at your high school Halloween dance.”

Jamie did that thing where he rolled his eyes and left them there, like something on the ceiling was exasperating him. “Yeah, I guess…”

Jack laughed. “I miss when you used to think I was so cool.” 

Jamie’s exasperation was focused all on Jack now, but so was a smile. “Yeah? And I miss when you didn’t tell the Boogeyman everything.” 

Jack gave Jamie a fond, but unamused look. “Now you’re just being bratty.”

“I am,” Jamie admitted. He threw his hands up in the air and leaned back on his bed. “But I’m just so nervous, Jack! It’s a big dance! I don’t wanna look like an idiot in front of everyone!”

“You’re not going to,” Jack assured, “Besides, no one’s really gonna care about what happened at this dance in five years.”

Jamie dragged his hands back down into his lap and stared. “Did Pitch tell you that?”

Jack offered a sheepish smile. “Yes?”

Jamie gave Jack the same kind of look one might give a cat with its head stuck in a tissue box and the tissue box stuck on a corner. A little helpless and a lot adoring. “Pitch said this, Pitch said that,” Jamie mocked, “I thought you had more than one friend, Jack?”

“I do!” Jack defended himself. “What, did you want me to ask North how to dance? Sandy?”

Jamie laughed and shook his head very fast. “Nono, please, no! I’m sure it’s very impressive, but I don’t need to learn how to dance with swords!”

Jack shrugged one shoulder and delighted in how he could still knock Jamie out of his bad moods. “Better not ask Tooth either, then.”

Jamie was well on his way to a proper giggle fit. “No, that would be awful. Better ask the King of Nightmares, instead!”

It was Jack’s turn to throw his hands up. “I told you! He actually dances!”

“Yes, yes, of course!” Jamie said. “I’m sure he’s fantastic at twerking.”

Jack snorted so hard he almost hurt himself. But then something seemed to catch in his throat, and he coughed to clear it, then coughed again when it didn’t quite clear. 

Jamie had stopped laughing at the second cough, and was looking properly concerned now. “Jack, are you alright?”

Jack just shook his head, because his throat felt so thick with something that he didn’t think he could get any words past. He could breathe just fine, but it felt… 

Jack coughed harder, trying to force his throat clear, and it finally worked, but he didn’t feel any better. Any and all feelings of success and relief died at the sight of four delicate flower petals drifting softly to the floor.

“...Jack?” 

Jamie’s voice shook Jack back into the moment. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring for so long, but Jamie was all the way at the end of his bed now, bare feet on the carpet, looking down at the same puzzling petals that had Jack in such a stupor. 

“What are those?”

Jack slowly lifted his shoulders in a helpless sort of shrug. “Flower petals? I think?”

Jamie looked right up at him, not amused in the least. “They came out of your mouth.” 

Jack bit his lip and chewed nervously. They had, and he had no idea why. “I know.”

“Is that normal?”

Jack shook his head, but then shrugged again. “I don’t know? Jamie, I’m like, really young when it comes to spirits. Maybe this just happens every three hundred years. I haven’t seen it before, but that… doesn’t really mean anything.”

Jamie nodded, and Jack was relieved that he seemed to believe him. “I hope you’re okay.”

For all that Jamie was a moody teenager, he was still a really good kid. “Yeah, me too. Hey, you should get to sleep, so you can practice your dance moves in the morning. I’m gonna go ask around about… this. Alright?”

Jamie took one last dubious look at the petals on the floor, then slid back in his bed to the headboard. “Yeah, alright. Let me know what they say, okay?”

Jack smiled. It was easy to smile at Jamie. “Of course. I’ll be back real soon. I promise.”

[underatedcharactersunite]

A Tale Of Two Souls; A Tale Of A Life Before

Summary; As Geralt and Y/N get accustomed to being a trio, Jaskier proves to be more observant than they originally considered as Jaskier asks Y/N a question that will take her back to a time she would have preferred to forget.  Pairing; Jaskier X Female Reader WordCount; 3350 Warnings; Angst, Mentions of death, torture, past abuse, Strong Language  Read Part 1 here

Series Masterlist 

"Credit where credit is due. That whole reverse psychology thing you did on them was brilliant by the way. Kill me. I'm ready." Geralt turned back glaring at Jaskier's impersonation of him. 

"That's the conclusion. They just let us go, and you give all of Nettly's coin to the Elves." 

"We were lucky. Filavandrel chose to spare our lives. Despite everything, he chose the right path. The coin should help them survive for a little while at least." You felt for Filavandrel truly. Elven history's battle to live equally among humans had been arduous and troublesome. Geralt was right, the humans were better at adapting to chaos. You wished that the Elves would find a way to survive, and one day perhaps humans would one day learn to accept the Elves. 

"Filavandrel's lute not gift enough for you." 

"Yeah she is a bit sexy, isn't she?" Over many travels and many miles across a variety of different lands, not once had you heard a man speak so lovely about an instrument before. Jaskier was as passionate about music as he was embracing other people. While others could dispute that the man currently wandering beside you was as a total fool? Was he? In the tavern, he had already proven his musical ability. So the monster's in Jaskier's had never existed before, that could not take Jaskier's talent away from him. 

"I do have respect for Filvandrel they survived the great cleansing once you know this. Maybe he could do it again. Be reborn." The thought of a war breaking out due to people's inability to be accepting one another made you think about your situation. Being outraged at Geralt for volunteering to die so immediately, had broken your heart to smithereens. Fighting monsters alongside Geralt had always been a deadly path, and you had accepted that long ago. Geralt voicing his willingness to die only confirmed that it could happen to all three of you at any given moment.

"Will the Elf King heed, what the Witcher entreats. Is history a wheel doomed to repeat" Jaskier's voice broke out into a beautiful melody, one filled with truth and sincerity. Bringing peacefulness like a warm bath after a long day, you listened as he played every note flawlessly. 

"No, that's...that's shit."  

"This is where we part ways, Bard, for good." 

“Look, I promised to change the public's tune about you. At least allow me to try. Furthermore, I think Y/N would miss me too much if we were to part ways so early." 

"Is that so Jaskier? We only met a matter of hours ago. How can you know what I am thinking? Unless you're telepathic, that is." 

"I know you've been looking at me, all doe-eyed." You stopped Tarot halting to look at the Bard who had been so courageous to challenge what he believed to have witnessed in your eyes. Releasing the Tarot's reigns, you advanced forwards towards Jaskier, his eyes being unable to pick a viewing point on your body. One moment, he was focused on your eyes then on your shoulder, then your lips. 

"Doe-eyed? At least I can make eye contact with you Jaskier. Perhaps it's you who becomes nervous around me. Tell me Jaskier, do I have that effect on, you all ready? If that's the case than travelling with us could be found tricky. Last chance to back out."

"Not a chance. I like the challenge I see set out in front of me." Sauntering backwards towards Tarot, you mounted her, giving her a gentle pet as you did so. The day had been long you anxiously anticipated the three of you finding a camp for the night. Hearing Geralt grunt, you knew he was conscious of the game that Jaskier had chosen to play. 

"You'll lose Bard."

"Not a chance." 

"We'll see Jaskier we'll see."With a gentle strum of his lute, Jaskier began to play a new song. Jaskier's nimble fingers worked effortlessly, as the song wrote itself. You wouldn't deny that the song was beautifully sung, however, the historical accuracy of the song appeared lacking. 

‘When a humble bard, graced the ride along with Geralt of Rivia and Y/N the enchanting Shieldmaiden Y/N. Along came this...song. From when the white wolf fought a silver-tongued devil, his army of elves at his hooves did they travel.  

They came after me, with masterful deceit. Brooke down my lute and they kicked in my teeth. While the Devil's horns, minced our tender meat and so cried the witcher he can't be bleat.’

"That's not how it happened. Where's your new-found respect?" 

"Respect doesn't make history." 

The three of you continued to ride onwards with no location in mind. The time in Posada had unquestionably been eventful. Never in your wildest dreams could you had fantasised of any of today's events. Especially Jaskier's introduction into your journey, previously you had been content with you and Geralt travelling the world alone.  

However, in a few short hours, Jaskier had successfully fought his way into our lives.  Despite the punch to his abdomen and Geralt and yourself warning Jaskier that the travelling life was not glamorous or simple. He preserved and never succumbed to persuasion. You and Geralt were officially stuck with the Bard. 

"I'm sorry." Your face creased as you Geralt apologise. In the past, whenever the two of you disputed, the two of you would give each other time until the other had calmed down and the two of you were able to discuss it calmly. Geralt approaching you first was unfamiliar. 

"You have nothing to apologise for Geralt. I was overreacting, that's all." 

"Y/N, I've never seen you overreact. Your thought process is always valid. I know I am not the best when it comes to emotions Witchers do not feel."

"Bullshit, I know you better than that. Besides, we both know you don't enjoy others knowing that you feel. I just did not appreciate how prepared and waiting you were to die. You are aware of how much I lost before I discovered you and Roach. While I've learnt how Witchers are, it does not mean I do not fear for your life every time we're in danger." 

Geralt inclined his head to look at you, riding side by side as Jaskier proceeded to play his new song ahead of you. Geralt appreciated your ability in reading his body language and mind. Many occasions, people had expected some variety of reasoning behind his actions, apart from you. You backed his decisions, and when you believed the situation ahead of you could be dealt with differently, you voiced those opinions. You didn't yell, or attempt to start an argument, you spoke gently and with conviction. 

"You know me too thoroughly. I didn't tell Filavandrel to kill me to harm you. If he was going to kill anyone, I would have rather it had been me. You and Jaskier have lives to live."

"As you do dear friend, fancy placing a friendly bet?" 

"Go on?" Your eyes twinkled in mischief, you adjusted your gaze to look over at Jaskier. 

"How long do you think it's going to be before he grows tired and asks one of us if he can ride on either Tarot or Roach? I say to the end of the dirt road when the path will become even more treacherous."

"Three Silver pieces says he cannot get to that large tree just in the distance." Shaking hands with Geralt, the three of you continue your journey as a brand new triage.  

                                                        ***

"I believe you owe me three silver pieces." Geralt's voice grumbled behind you. That was the last time you ever get Jaskier the benefit of the doubt. You had considered Jaskier would have been so immersed in his song that he would forget about his aching feet. Oh, how wrong you had been. The moment the luscious green tree had come into view, Jaskier had redirected back to you both. 

"Would any of you fancy allowing me to ride along with you...it's just my feet are extremely tired?" 

"Don't touch Roach!" 

"Okay, we're still overly possessive. What about you, my beautiful enchantress? You'll let me ride with you, will you not?" Sighing you looked down at Jaskier. You couldn't understand what was happening. You had precisely lost a bet to Geralt of Rivia. A bet that you had produced. The slight tug on Geralt's face knew that he was never going to let this go. 

"I don't know Jaskier. I'm sure we'll stop for camp soon. Perhaps you could walk for a little longer." Jaskier placed his hand over his heart, acting to be wounded while he paced backwards. In the few hours you had known Jaskier, you come to realise a lot about him. While he was confident and flirtatious, brilliant and creative, Jaskier could also be a total idiot. With his attention solely on you, Jaskier had forgotten on the rugged road that he currently stepped on. Unbeknownst to Jaskier in his path was a large and rough rock. Stepping onto the rock, Jaskier slipped onto the rock, tumbling over.

"Shit, Ow!" 

"Jaskier!" Jumping down from Tarot, you ran to his aid crouching beside him. Meanwhile, Geralt halted Roach remaining where he was. This was the second time in a matter of hours that Jaskier had injured himself. You were beginning to contemplate covering him up in some variety of guarding material. 

"What is it with you and rocks? Earlier, you had one thrown at your head, and now you've landed on one." 

"It's not my fault. If you would stop being so mesmerizing, then I would not keep distracted so easily. You smell good by the way. What is that?-Shit Y/N!" While Jaskier had been entirely oblivious to the situation before him, it had given you the perfect time to check him for any injuries. Unfortunately, the rock's edge was pretty sharp and sliced through Jaskier's overcoat and his undershirt. The wound appeared pretty deep. It wasn't something you could attend to on the side of the road. 

"How bad is it?" Geralt questioned, looking up at him, you slightly shook your head side to side, proving Geralt with all the information he needed to know. 

"What's going on? What's wrong with my back? Am I going to die? Dying in your arms Y/N, would not be the worst way to die, I suppose." 

"Jaskier, you are not going to die. Lesson two of being a Witcher's companion; you will, unfortunately, get the occasional injuries. We're going to get you on Tarot, and we will find a place to camp for the night." 

                                                         ***

That is how you ended up with a smug Witcher and an injured Bard. Withdrawing the money from the pouch, you placed the three silver pieces in his hand. Standing in front of him, you smirked. 

"The next time you will not be so lucky Geralt. Jaskier overcoat and undershirt off."

"Well, that didn't take as long as I thought it would." 

"Really? Do you want me to make this hurt way more than it has too." Jaskier suddenly became quiet as you approached him with the salve and the all of the bandages you currently had in your disposal. 

"Y/N, who are you?" Jaskier questioned, leaving you puzzled? It had been very apparent early on that Jaskier had heard of your adventures early on with Geralt. So why was he asking about your identity?

"You know who I am, the enchanting Shieldmaiden Y/N." As Jaskier hunched over sitting on a tree stump, you lightly cleaned the wound with some freshly boiled water off of the fire. Trying to clean the wound as painlessly as possible, Jaskier did not deserve to feel pain. 

"I heard what Geralt said to Filavandrel earlier, one human, the other's complicated. What did he mean by that?" 

"Enough Bard!" You stopped cleansing Jaskier's wound pulling away from him entirely. Your history before Geralt had been one you had desired to forget. While you knew it allowed you to become the person you aspired to become in the end, it was far from pleasant.  

"Geralt, he has a right to know. You desired to get rid of him, understanding who I am is enough to make him run a mile."

"The Bard is not my concern right now you are." 

"Geralt, it's better if he knows-" 

"As much as I enjoy the little back and forth you have going on right now. Am I not allowed to come up with my own judgement?" 

"This is going to hurt a little. If it gets too much, tell me to stop okay?" Dipping your fingertip into the salve that you made whenever you could find the right ingredients. Slowly, you began to spread the salve over Jaskier's wound, simultaneously hearing Jaskier wither in pain, your spare hand laid tenderly on his shoulder. 

"So before Geralt, so rudely interrupted, who are you exactly?" Gently rubbing the salve over the wound, you halted briefly. Repeating your history for Geralt had been challenging enough. He had understood the difficulties that the world often brought. Jaskier witnessed the world being light and merry the darkness happened elsewhere. 

"My name is Y/N, however before I encountered Geralt and Roach, my name was Princess Y/N of Autumndale. My Father had just learnt that he was about to become King when he met my Mother. You see my Mother was an intimidating, and powerful Sorceress. Everywhere she went, she frightened people to achieve her goals. There was no limit to my Mother's powers. 

Upon hearing my Father being an eligible bachelor, my Mother conducted a love potion, so there's no way she would lose the other potential candidates. As she expected the moment my Father laid eyes on her, he was put into a trance. No one could compare to her. Not long after that, they were married, and my Mother's plan began to unfold.

My Mother wanted to create an unstoppable creature. She had been using various creatures' blood and combining it with her own. However, what she didn't know was she was already pregnant with me. So instead of the spell serving on her. It was myself the spell worked on.” Finishing applying the salve onto Jaskier's back, you began to slowly wrap the bandage around his torso, when you wandered around him, Jaskier took ahold of your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles softly. 

"What happened when she found out?" 

“She wanted me to become like her. Cold and calculated. Heartless. She placed a mirage for the people they were never able to witness the reality of the situation they were in. 

From an early age, it was clear I was unlike my Mother in any way. I was always too kind, too diplomatic. Rather than destroying people, I used my powers for good. There was a farmer's boy whose shoes were rotten, without even realising what I was doing a new pair appeared in front of him. For punishment, I was locked away for a month. 

For years she attempted to turn me into her. I was forced to watch her experiments. I watched her kill people in front of me. She endeavoured to get me to kill people and conduct her tests. Time and time again I refused, getting thrown back into the same cell, left alone for months on end. She knew then she could not break me.”

"So, what happened?" 

"She exploited the situation to her advantage, or so she thought. She told everyone it had been me who was conducting the experiments, that I was a fraud. The person I allowed them to see was not my true self. The people believed her every word of course; however, my Mother had forgotten the only way a love potion could be broken." 

"How?"

"If the drinker of the love potion had fallen in love absolutely with someone. My Mother assumed that meant romantic love between two lovers. What she failed to release, it meant any form of true love. From the moment I was born, my Father had gradually begun to break a hold from her grasp. When he heard what she had done, he began to plan my escape. 

That night, my Father sent me off on foot, afraid the galloping of hooves would alert the town. I've never run so hard. Nowhere was safe.However, the people were not foolish and were on high alert. They came at me with stones and rocks, throwing anything they could at me. I continued to run as painful as it was. Every time something hit my body, it was more than a physical injury. It impacted me mentally. I failed them. Despite my powers, I didn't attempt to stop my Mother.  I fled from them. I wasn't the enemy, I wanted to help them and did so as frequently as I could. No matter the consequences.

In a state of desperation, I stole a horse and rode as hard as fast as I could. As soon as I got further away, I allowed the horse to go free. He was not mine, someone loved him, you could tell by the condition he was in.” 

"How did you meet Geralt?" 

"Now that's the lighter side of the story. I had been on my own for a little over a year, teaching myself to hunt and which plants and mushrooms were good to eat. I had been accustomed to being alone, in fact I quite enjoyed it. 

One day I was staggering through the forest when I came across a horse. She was sweet and didn't mind me talking to her. Being alone for a long time you don't get to be sociable. I stood with her for a while until I felt someone's blade on my neck. Geralt thought I was trying to steal Roach, which was far from the truth. However, back then, Geralt was encountering the same problem I was. We both were dealing with trust issues humans hated us because they are unable to deal with uniqueness. 

After everything that I'd been through, I was not willing to die. I and Geralt fought, at the time he was better at combat. He won easily. However, I pleaded to him for my life. I told him who I was, albeit with a blade on my throat. I never expected Geralt to offer me to become his companion. I never expected Geralt to teach me everything about surviving on my own. Geralt saved my life." Sending Geralt a tender smile, you witnessed his lips tug up ever so slightly. You owed him everything, and nothing nor anybody would ever stop you from protecting him as he had done you. Jaskier's reaction was peculiar he was dead silent. Fearing the worst, you attempted to remove your hand out of his grasp however, his only tightened. 

"Why did you think I would believe you're a monster? Do I come across like some variety of a judgemental Prick?" 

"Of course not Jaskier. I dreaded deeper than anything that you would fear me. That is the last thing I've wanted. It's not even been a day, and yet you've already grown on me. If you decide to stay-" 

"I promised Geralt that I would change the public's tune about him, and now it appears that I've got to prove to you that I'm not like those people who threw stones and rocks at you. Frankly, I do not mind in the slightest whether your entire human or a mixture of whatever creatures your mother was cruel enough to experiment on."

"I was not implying that you were like my previous subjects, but we have only known each other for a day, and you deserve to know who your travelling with." 

"I do not care if that's not what you were implying. I am going to prove to you that I am not like them, my enchanting beauty. I will prove it to you."