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The edge of the world is not a kind place. Jaskier knows this- he’s been there for months, perfecting his skills with the elves he’s half related to. They’ve got the Sylvan known as Torque stealing grains for them, and Jaskier occasionally ventures into Posada to buy better food. He arouses less suspicion from the villagers- his ears mark him as a human, and he doesn’t let anyone get close enough to see the scars just behind the tips. Lettenhove was unkind to half-elves, hence why he left, viscount status be damned.
The elves took him in, only after he showed them what he could do. They’ve been teaching him ever since, call him elf-friend even though he’s part elf himself. They’re helping him become more powerful, and he knows he’ll owe them in the future. But that’s neither here nor there- the elves are good people, driven out of their lands, and Jaskier will help them if he can.
And he can. He’s one of the last True Bards- not just some court jester or travelling minstrel. He can hear the echoes of the Spoken Words of Creation, reverberating throughout everything the Continent contains. Moreso, he can harness the echoes, a practiced skill he’s been doing since even before he started studying at Oxenfurt. He’s not a sorcerer or a wizard or anything like that- in fact, he’s not sure if the Brotherhood of Sorcerers even knows that the True Bards still exist. They reject Chaos, focusing instead on Creation, and that makes them dangerous.
No matter. He knows what it’s like to live in hiding, live in fear- he made a vow when he started studying that he would never let on his true nature, lest he be killed and reveal that not every artist is just an artist. He’ll help the elves when they need him, regardless of the spells and songs they teach him.
It takes several months before rumors of a witcher in Posada reach Torque, and subsequently, Filavandrel. The last king of the elves sends Jaskier in to investigate. He performs at the tavern and watches the witcher in the corner, golden eyes sweeping over the room before settling on the bard. Jaskier grins and turns away- he’s not going to attempt to cast a spell on the witcher, and he’d be idiotic to do so. Instead, he’ll use his natural charm (what his elven friend Toruviel calls ‘a natural annoyance’) to get on the witcher’s good side and try and at least drive him off.
Of course, it doesn’t work. But Jaskier is a traveller at heart, and he’s learned all he can from the elves. The witcher- Geralt of Rivia- is a perfect opportunity to continue to grow, both as a musician and a magic user. If the elves don’t kill him, at least. So Jaskier goes with him to investigate, can see the apology written across Torque’s face as he knocks them out, and wakes up tied back-to-back with the witcher.
Toruviel breaks his lute. She almost looks pleased about doing so, and Jaskier rolls his eyes. She’s gotten more and more over-dramatic, a trait she probably picked up from him. While Geralt speaks, Jaskier casts Telepathic Bond with the eggshells Torque slipped into his pocket, knowing it would allow them to communicate without Geralt’s knowledge. He connects it to everyone in the room except the witcher, and immediately hears Toruviel apologizing for breaking the lute.
I’ll get you a new one, Filavandrel scoffs, and Jaskier can barely detect the amusement in his face. Should I kill him, Jaskier?
No, Jaskier replies. I think I’m going to travel with him.
Of course you are, Toruviel sends. Be safe.
You know how to contact me, Jaskier sends. I’ll be ready if you call. No matter what happens.
And for that we thank you, Filavandrel says, and Jaskier drops the bond. Filavandrel frees them, Geralt looking slightly surprised that his speech worked. Jaskier can already feel the beginnings of a song.
Geralt does not like him. Which is perfectly fine, because Jaskier doesn’t exactly make himself likeable. He still does his best to change the general public image of the White Wolf, including but not limited to punching out anyone who disrespects Geralt in front of him. Geralt pulls him back from many fights and never leaves him behind, so perhaps they’re friends after all.
They split up during the winters, Geralt returning to Kaer Morhen and Jaskier pretending to teach at Oxenfurt. Instead, he returns to wherever the elves have settled themselves down. He spends time with them, meets the sorceress Francesca, helps them as best as he can before leaving to meet up with Geralt again in the spring.
Just because he’s powerful doesn’t mean he isn’t a little stupid, a little reckless. He and Geralt meet Yennefer and he nearly dies and Yennefer terrifies him, and then oh, she and Geralt are there and he’s watching them through the window and he sighs and turns back to the elven healer Chireadan.
“Well,” he says. His shirt is still covered in blood. “I think I’ve had quite enough of this.” He casts Prestidigitation, waving a hand over his shirt and instantly cleaning it. Chireadan’s eyes widen, and Jaskier carefully examines his shirt to make sure he didn’t miss any spots.
“You’re a mage,” Chireadan says.
“Bard,” Jaskier corrects absentmindedly. He looks up, satisfied that his shirt is clean. Chireadan is looking at him with an unreadable expression. “True Bard, that is. Elf-friend and all that. At your service, I sincerely thank you for your help.”
“I- of course,” Chireadan says after a moment. “The witcher- does he know?”
“No,” Jaskier snorts. “Been travelling together for sixteen years and he doesn’t realize that I haven’t aged a day and regularly use magic. He’s supposed to be hyper-observant, isn’t he?”
He talks with the healer for a long time, updating him on Filavandrel and Francesca’s elves, learning how the persecution of elves that aren’t in hiding is getting worse by the day. He already knew it was terrible, but the fact that it’s getting worse is worrisome.
He reunites with Geralt the next day. Yennefer isn’t with him. Jaskier doesn’t say anything, just smirks in that way he does and chatters away, waiting for Geralt to tell him to shut up and refusing to when he does so.
They continue their travels. Jaskier gets less protective over his magic, occasionally doing it while Geralt is within view, though the witcher never seems to notice. He casts Speak with Animals on Roach once when Geralt has left them behind to take a contract. Roach startles and nearly tramples him, but it turns into a regular thing. When he follows Geralt on monster-hunting jobs and knows he’s in danger, he casts Blade Ward, tracing his sigil in the air and protecting himself from any damage. When he’s stitching up Geralt after long fights he whispers Healing Word to enhance the witcher’s already-enhanced healing.
That day on the mountain is the worst day of Jaskier’s life, and that’s saying something, because he’s had a lot of really, really shitty days. Instead of walking down the mountain he uses Teleportation Circle, which is a fairly medium-level spell in terms of difficulty. It takes him to his room in Oxenfurt, and that’s where he stays for a long time, teaching students. Not many of them have what it takes to be a True Bard, not many of them can hear the Spoken Words of Creation. There is one student who can, a bright young girl named Essi, and Jaskier teaches her to use every spell he can think of. She’s just a beginner, but she’s learning.
He hears about the destruction of Cintra, the death of Calanthe, the disappearance of Cirilla. Of course he hears about it, everyone hears about it. The prosecution of elves gets worse and worse, and Jaskier decides to do something.
And do something he does. He casts spell after spell to help elves escape, uses Invisibility more than he’s ever used any spell before, and he uses every trick in the book to make sure all of the attention is on him and never on them. He sings burn, Butcher, burn, in the hopes that it will anger Geralt enough for the witcher to seek him out again.
He is captured by the fire mage and when he goes to burn Jaskier’s fingers Jaskier casts Dispel Magic and it doesn’t actually hurt him. Yennefer rescues him, anyways, and when she leaves he winds up in a cell. He could get out, easily, but he finds that he almost doesn’t want to. He casts Speak with Animals to talk to the rats, convinces them to make music with him, and that’s when Geralt arrives.
Fuck, he thinks first, then, No, and then finally, where the hell is the Child Surprise?
He does not say these things, but he goes with Geralt when he asks, because he is Jaskier and he will always go with Geralt when he asks. They go to Kaer Morhen and there’s Ciri and Yennefer and everything goes to shit very, very quickly.
Jaskier casts Power Word Kill , and he shouts “ WITCHER! ” because that’s what the word has always been, so when he calls out for Geralt and the monster mysteriously dies no one ever questions it.
They don’t question it here, either, even though the spell takes more out of him than he’d like to admit.
It’s later- much later, when he’s talking to Lambert and the man mentions Eskel, that Jaskier figures now is as good a time as any to reveal that he’s a True Bard. He’s heard stories about Eskel, knows Geralt loves him like a brother, and so he asks Lambert probably the last question that Lambert wants to hear.
“Do you still have his body?”
Lambert stares at him, for a long moment. Jaskier’s solemn expression does not break. This is not a joke, he says.
“Yes,” Lambert says eventually, voice strained.
“Take me there,” he says. “And get the others.”
Lambert does as Jaskier says.
“Jask,” Yennefer says softly. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“I think we would all like to know that,” Vesemir says, eyes on Eskel’s body, not on Jaskier, never on Jaskier.
“This spell is going to take a lot out of me,” Jaskier says. “Just be warned.”
“Spell?” Geralt asks, eyes snapping from Eskel’s face to Jaskier’s.
Jaskier looks away. And he does something he swore he would never do, even though he knows he can do it perfectly.
He casts Resurrection.
Hey, he says to Eskel. I’m Geralt’s Bard. We want you to come back now, please.
And Eskel says, Okay.
It’s not as difficult of a spell as Power Word Kill, not really. But it does take more out of him, and he falls back as Eskel’s skin clears and he coughs, just once. Resurrection only works if the soul being necromanced is willing to come back, so Jaskier knows that ethics aren’t a problem here. What is a problem is the way that everyone else reacts.
“QUIET!” Yennefer yells through all the screaming. She’s at Jaskier’s side, holding him up, as Eskel stands.
“Resurrection,” Jaskier says. “It’s a spell.”
“You’re not a mage,” at least three people say accusingly.
“No,” Jaskier agrees. “I’m not. I’m a Bard.”
There’s silence for a moment. Eskel kneels down at Jaskier’s side.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Not a problem,” Jaskier says, cracking a grin. That’s all it takes for the rest of the room to stop, to surround Eskel, and Jaskier is able to slip away with Yennefer’s help.
“Can you do it to the rest of them?” she asks, clearly referring to the other witchers who perished in the chaos.
“I can,” Jaskier says. “Not quickly. It’ll take a lot of sleeping and a lot of energy on my part. But I can do it.”
“Good,” Yennefer says quietly. “I think they would like that.”
“And what I would like is completely out of the question?” Jaskier asks. It’s meant to be a joke, but it comes out serious. Yennefer frowns. “I’m sorry. That was-”
“No,” she says. “You’re right. We just kind of expect you to follow us everywhere, don’t we? And you- you’re more powerful than any of us. True Bard.”
“True Bard,” Jaskier agrees.
“So the rumors are true. Chaos isn’t the only source of magic out there.”
“Creation,” Jaskier agrees.
“Creation,” Geralt echoes from the door, and both bard and witch jump. “What-”
“The Spoken Words of Creation,” Jaskier says. “I can hear them. I can harness them. I can’t just- fling magic around willy-nilly like Yennefer can-”
“Willy-nilly?” Yennefer whispers.
“But Creation has always been more powerful than Chaos,” he finishes.
“Huh,” Geralt says quietly.
The three of them sit there for a moment, reveling in the silence. Well, Jaskier’s reveling. Yennefer and Geralt both look like they’re still processing.
“Anyways,” Jaskier says, and he casts Dancing Lights, something that doesn’t take a lot out of him because it’s so minor of a spell. He makes them swirl around the three of them, living up to their name. Yennefer relaxes a bit, and Geralt actually cracks a rare smile.
“Is Bardic Inspiration real, too?” Yennefer asks, and Jaskier grins.
“I use it on both of you all the time,” he says, and she laughs. They explain to Geralt, who just huffs once.
Jaskier knows that things are not magically okay, because that’s not how magic works. They all have a lot of talking to do. But just for now, Jaskier doesn’t feel like he’s teetering on the edge of the world. He feels a lot more powerful than that.