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Chapter Text

Shortly after having been crowned King, Radovid realizes that he’s got no idea how deep Dijkstra and Philippa’s control over Redania’s resources, personnel, forces, and spy networks actually runs.

All he knows, for sure, is that he isn’t his brother, doesn’t care much about power for himself nor luxuries; and that, while allowing himself to be used as other people’s puppet might, indeed, offer some measure of “stability” to the kingdom, it does nothing to help those that have historically been disadvantaged by the status quo.

As it turns out, he also discovers that, regardless of how utterly ill-prepared for the responsibilities that come with being a king he feels – and no matter how much he wishes he could be more selfish and run away from it all – he does feel like he owes his people to try to use whatever little power he might have gained to help them, at the very least.

Besides, if he did try to run, Radovid worries that he’d only be putting Jaskier and his family in more danger, as he doubts Dijkstra and Philippa would be willing to let him go so easily. 

Instead, he manages to get in contact with Jaskier’s friends in Oxenfurt, and asks for their help anonymously sending Jaskier some money from time to time; keeping his fingers crossed that they are as trustworthy as Jaskier believes them to be.

Otherwise, until Jaskier and his family can find Ciri and make sure she’s safe, Radovid figures the best thing he can do is keep Nilfgaard’s Empire distracted by waging war on them from his side, and doing whatever he can to keep the roads clear and make their travels easier.

At first, Radovid thus tries to collaborate with his two advisors.  Thankfully, as far as waging war on the Nilfgaardian Empire goes, they tend to see a bit more eye to eye.

Unfortunately, however, hoping to manage to convince them to make some much-needed changes to the way Redania has been sharing power with the elves, dwarves and other races sharing the land, as well as attempting to reduce the gap between nobility and peasantry, proves to be a much harder endeavor.

Sadly, it soon becomes abundantly clear that Dijsktra and Philippa do not see Redania’s people as individuals with their own families and livelihoods that those in power have a responsibility to look after and keep safe.

Instead, they seemingly believe in doing just enough to maintain peace, while keeping them fearful of punishment should they dare rebel against the king’s will and forces.

At first, they play the benevolent guiding figures that are simply amused by their new king’s “romantic idealism” and “naivety” and are blaming those “foolish ideas” on Radovid’s lack of experience.

However, things start to change as they slowly realize that Radovid idealism isn’t feigned, but an integral part of who he is as a person. 

They thus begin losing patience with him more frequently, often implying that he should stop listening to those “ludicrous songs” that are putting “such dangerous fairytales” in his head.

They also start spreading rumors, among the nobles and those serving the crown, that the king “hasn’t been himself lately”, and there’s been growing concerns about his mental health and safety.

Indeed, it is increasingly clear that he’s fallen under the charms of a nefarious bard that’s secretly been wishing to cause Redania’s downfall.  And, until they can find a way to free him from his “brainwashed state” – for the king and the kingdom’s own good, of course – people should obviously be very wary of listening to him or following his orders without first consulting with the newly formed and self-appointed Regency Council.

They also start looking into “contingency plans”, should that bard take things any further and hire assassins to come the king.

Given the tragic absence of another heir to the throne, they start meeting with the next firstborn male of the second highest born Redanian family, to share information with him and update him on the current state of affairs in Redania, “just in case” – Gods forbid –anything should happen to their poor lovesick and manipulated King, and there was a need for a new monarch to take over.

After all, we all know how dangerous it is to leave a kingdom leaderless in times of war.

While Radovid generally has a very hard time knowing who he can trust in the castle, fortunately, there are a few people that have known him since he was a child – and have chosen to remain loyal to him – that warn him of Philippa and Dijkstra’s schemes, and the growing imminent threat to his life.

While, at first, he’s reluctant to leave and “abandon his people” to two dangerous narcissists, they manage to convince him that – should he be sincere about wishing to do right by his people – then the best chance he could ever have to help them would be to remove himself from the chessboard for the time being.

By now, Jaskier and his family have successfully managed to get Ciri back and have gone into hiding ever since; so, they no longer need the help of some mysterious anonymous “wealthy benefactor”.

However, if convinced to help, perhaps Jaskier might be able to use his influence on the people of the Continent to help Radovid take back his Kingdom from Philippa and Dijkstra.

Regardless of the King’s reluctance to get the man he loves involved; they remind him that Jaskier has already been made a target, as his advisors have managed to convince most of Redania’s nobility that, should there be any attempt made on their king’s life, “that pesky bard” would surely be the one behind it!

Should Dijkstra and Philippa finally decide that King Radovid is more trouble than he’s worth for them and have him be “removed” from his position, then they would no doubt have Jaskier be arrested and executed for the crime without trial.

Radovid thus cuts and dyes his hair to change his appearance, swaps clothes with one of his trusted manservants, successfully manages to get past the guards, and runs away from the castle; finally setting out to go find Jaskier.

Meanwhile, Dijkstra and Philippa’s plans to blame the king’s “foolish idealism” on his love for his bard has already somehow started to backfire on them. 

Because the moment King Radovid officially “goes missing”, the few people that were loyal to him waste no time in spreading rumors of their own among the common folks.

As it turns out, the tragic story of a king that fell in love with a bard, was inspired by his songs to attempt to change his kingdom for the better; and, when he couldn’t, ran away to be with him, has them heavily sympathizing with the runaway king and rooting for him to not only be able to happily reunite with his lover, but also take back his kingdom from them.

Rumors of a rebellion start spreading and, while Jaskier hasn’t been explicitly named as the king’s paramour – given his reputation for giving a voice to those that need it most, and being the most likely bard on the whole Continent to have successfully seduced the pants off a king – people make a very educated and accurate guess with regards to his identity.

When Jaskier hears about King Radovid having “gone missing” from Redania’s court, he is unable to hide his concern and distress; and Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri confront him about it.

He admits that he is, indeed, the bard those rumors have been talking about, and tells them the story of how the two of them met, struck a rather strong and quite unexpected emotional and intellectual connection, and briefly got together on the night of the Thanedd coup.

He explains that, after he’d heard that Prince Radovid had been made king in the wake of his brother’s mysterious murder, he’d initially found himself doubting, again, if what they’d shared had ever been real.

In a way, it had been easier for Jaskier to try to convince himself that it had all been a lie; to believe that Radovid had only wanted to take the throne from his brother from the start, and solely shown interest in him so he’d find a way to bring Ciri to Redania.  Because, with Ciri as a Queen by his side, King Radovid would have become the single most powerful man on the Continent.

Nevermind that his own instincts and his heart had been screaming at him – pretty much belting it out as loud as they could, actually – that Radovid had been telling the truth. 

Nevermind that the prince had allowed Jaskier to see a glimpse of just how utterly vulnerable and terrified he’d been back then.

Nevermind he’d found him weeping and crying in a corner of a dark room while mourning the death of his guards – the same ones that would no doubt have attempted to forcefully take Ciri come morning had they been allowed to accompany their prince to the cabin where she and Jaskier had been staying in the woods.

Nevermind that he couldn’t recall Radovid having ever told him a single lie after he’d called him out on not being drunk.

Nevermind that, the moment Jaskier expressed that he needed to find his family before he could go anywhere with him, the prince had immediately jumped at the opportunity to leave his life at court behind to follow him instead, as if his very life depended on it.

Nevermind any of that!

Because worrying about risking losing both Ciri and Radovid – if what they’d shared had indeed been real, and Jaskier wasn’t alone in experiencing such levels of heartbreak over their separation – would have simply made him go mad!

Even now, the thought of Radovid having been in danger all along – attempting on his own to be brave and change things for his people despite the threatening presence of Philippa and Dijkstra constantly looming over him – is almost too much for him to bear.

When Geralt asks Jaskier if he believes that the generous anonymous donations they’d regularly been receiving  that had helped finance their trip had actually come from the king, he breaks down; feeling absolutely awful for how quickly he’d been willing to cling to the belief that Radovid couldn’t possibly have cared for him – couldn’t possibly have loved him – the way he’d claimed he did, despite all evidence to the contrary.

Jaskier might not have been able to go to him back then – given that he would still have needed to make sure Ciri was safe – but, at least, maybe he could have used some of his contacts to help Radovid any way he could…  given him hope that he was still loved if nothing else.

And now, he worries he might be too late – both to help him, and to let him know that he does love him.

Ciri is the first to point out that she’s safe now; so, if Jaskier wants to go find him, make things right, and perhaps help him take back his kingdom, he should.  As the rightful heir to Cintra – if the rumors are true and what got Radovid into so much trouble with his advisors has been his attempt to make things better for the other races and the common folks of his kingdom – then Ciri even believes that she and Radovid might be able to help each other in making it happen.

While Geralt offers to go with him while Yennefer stays to ensure Ciri’s safety, Jaskier points out that he’ll have an easier time avoiding attracting attention to himself if he travels covertly, and alone.

Besides, should Radovid be successful in locating Jaskier’s family first, then he trusts that Geralt and Yennefer would send word, and be best suited to look after and protect him until his return.

And if Jaskier finds him first, then he’ll know where to find them, or send word for help if he needs them to come find him and Radovid, too.

As it turns out, Radovid has indeed been trying to locate them - a task that has proven rather difficult given that he needs to both keep his own identity a secret, while also trying to find people rather intent on not being found.

At some point, while on the road, he attempts to stop a young family from being mugged and gets stabbed in the stomach.  Afraid of being recognized if he goes to seek medical help, he instead heads out for Jaskier’s friends’ safehouse in Oxenfurt, hoping they’ll agree to take him in, be able to help patch him up as best they can, and find a way to contact Jaskier.

Luckily, Jaskier’s own strategy for locating Radovid had been to start his search in Oxenfurt.  Since the runaway king had been using his own Sandpiper network to send him money – he’d figured that he might have a better chance if he began his search there.

The moment he shows up, his friends immediately look relieved, telling him that Radovid showed up on their doorstep less than an hour ago, and that he needs Jaskier’s help.

When he enters the room and sees the critical state he’s in, Jaskier immediately understands why.

While his wound is no immediate threat to his life, the fact that he didn’t get it treated sooner means that he’s lost a lot of blood on his way to the safehouse; and, given that he’s now running a fever, there’s a very real possibility of infection that, if left untreated, could develop into full blown septicemia.

While his friends are making a run for more medical supplies, Jaskier stays to watch over Radovid.  He offers him something for the pain, cleans and bandages his wound, makes sure he’s as comfortable as possible, and finally confesses his feelings for him.

Jaskier, however, also knows that the two of them are too vulnerable and likely put his friends in danger if they stay there.

So, as soon as said friends return, he goes out to send a message to Yennefer to come join them as soon as she’s able to; since not only will Radovid need her healing abilities, but the safest and quickest way to move him would technically be through a portal.

Tragically, however, Dijkstra and Philippa’s spy network has also managed to find out the king’s current location. 

While Jaskier is out, Dijkstra thus shows up to the safehouse with a few of his trusted agents, has Jaskier’s friends killed, and murders Radovid himself, as they can’t afford to have Redania’s rightful king running – utterly unchecked – among his people to become a symbol of hope for a better future.

As far as Dijkstra is concerned, he’s reached the conclusion that Radovid has caused them enough of a headache as it is, and that their recalcitrant king would be much more useful to them simply becoming yet another cautionary tale for those that would dare dream too big and too loud about change.

When Jaskier returns to the safehouse, they’re already gone – having taken a huge part of his heart with them.

He stays to mourn the loss of his love and his friends, until Yennefer finally comes to find him.

She then sends words to Geralt to come find them while they return Jaskier’s friends’ bodies to their own families, and try to figure out how to proceed from there…

After all, they can’t exactly return Radovid’s body to Redania’s castle without risking being arrested for his murder; and Jaskier makes it abundantly clear that abandoning him for other people to find isn’t an option, either (not that Geralt, Yennefer, or Ciri ever would have considered it).

First, there’s no guarantee others would recognize him, and then, an unclaimed body might just end up being thrown in a mass grave somewhere.

Eventually, they decide to bury Radovid in a buttercup field, in Lettenhove, where Jaskier always used to spend hours playing and daydreaming when he was a child and wanted to escape all the family drama happening at home.

Jaskier figures that, after everything Radovid has been through – if the very last king of the Redanian dynasty can’t be buried among the kings of old – his prince might appreciate finding rest in a place that inspired Jaskier’s own chosen name and used to offer him a sense of peace and freedom back when he couldn’t leave his own home, either.

And knowing just how much Radovid loved his music and his singing – to the point where he’d even learned his song - Jaskier chooses a spot near the tree that he used to lean against while learning to play the lute, and composing his very first ballads and poems…

It may not be much, but it’s the closest he can get now to ever fulfilling the promise he’d made to help Radovid hone his lute playing skills, he supposes…

His family reassures him that, under the circumstances, it’s enough; and that they’re pretty sure Radovid would have been moved by his love and thoughtfulness – at least, if they went by what Jaskier had told them about him.

Besides, the poor prince had spent so much time trying to both mentally and physically escape the gilded cage he’d been trapped in, that maybe he’d have preferred it that way.

Jaskier only wishes he’d listened and understood better each time Radovid had instinctively been reaching out to him for help; that he would have asked more questions regarding why he was scared, rather than make any assumptions.

They don’t know for sure who killed him and Jaskier’s friends, but they’ve got a strong inkling.

Jaskier’s just grateful that his friends had already given him the letters that Radovid had been writing to him in secret from time to time – like a journal – ever since he became king, and that he’d entrusted to them.

Otherwise, “whoever” did this might have found and taken them; depriving Jaskier of that very last connection to the man he’d fallen in love with.

He hesitates to call it a source of “comfort”, as what he reads there – Radovid’s hopes, dreams, and aspirations, the depth of the love he felt for Jaskier, his willingness to nevertheless put his people first – only makes him gain a deeper understanding of who he truly was, behind the mask, and everything he and Redania had lost when his life had violently been stolen away.

He supposes it’s fitting that the prince (because he would always be a prince in Jaskier’s heart) had already started falling in love with him while listening to his songs, as he finds himself falling even deeper in love with him – hopelessly so – while reading his letters.

However, while Radovid had been given the opportunity to hold onto the hope of meeting his crush one day…  Of getting the chance to discover, for himself, if his fantasies about the fascinatingly intriguing and sensitive bard matched the reality (if Radovid’s letters were to be believed, the reality had been much better than any fantasy he could ever have come up with, as far as he was concerned) …

…all Jaskier has been left with are the beloved memories of someone that had touched his heart in a completely unique and different way, and made himself a permanent home within in.

Perhaps, one day, they would meet again, if the believers were to be believed and there was anything beyond life and death…   But Jaskier doesn’t really know what to believe – not anymore.

He hopes there is, because Radovid deserves to have found some comfort, peace and hopefully some measure of happiness out there. 

And obviously, from a more selfish standpoint, Jaskier wishes for their story to not fully be over yet.

But there’s simply no way for him to know for sure without going to have a look. 

And, despite the overwhelming pain and heartbreak, Jaskier feels that he still has a family to look after, and a few stories left in him to tell.

If he’d managed to survive being abandoned by Geralt on top of that mountain, and the profound sense of loss of purpose and identity that had followed, he believes he should be able to survive this…

This time around, Jaskier still knows who he is and what’s important to him…. He still feels wanted and loved by his chosen family...  He’s still able to catch and savor the few moments of joy as they pass by.

Even the grief – whenever it threatens to suffocate him though its intensity – is a reminder of just how much he’s been loved, and how strong, beautiful, and precious the connection he’d found with Radovid was…

Still is to him…

He’ll embrace the pain if that means keeping the memory of his lover alive, and continue to navigate his life as best he can, for as long as he still feels like he has a purpose in people’s lives as well.

He just hopes that Radovid will find it in his heart to forgive him for making him wait – again – and putting others before them.

As it turns out, however, Dijkstra does not forgive as easily… 

He blames Jaskier’s influence on the whole mess with Radovid and the political instability it has caused, not to mention his bruised ego at the thought of them having attempted to think – for even an instant – that they could ever hope to outsmart or outplay him.

By that point, it is no longer enough for the spymaster to simply get rid of the bard and make sure he never has a chance to “screw people over” again; he also wants to teach him one final lesson in humility and knowing one’s “proper place” in the world.

He thus sends Philippa to meet with Jaskier and offer him an ultimatum:  Either he dies by his own hand – takes himself out of “the game” once and for all – or they will use whatever resources they have at their disposal to come after everyone and everything Jaskier loves.

While Jaskier has always feared death and the possible emptiness that might come after, he’s also always feared the loss of those he loves most of all. 

And tragically, he also tends to downplay just how much he means to those he loves, too; the impact his own loss would have on them, and how much others would be willing to sacrifice for the chance to keep him safe.

Actually, even considering that possibility brings him little comfort; as the very thought of having any other member of his family willing to get hurt – or give their own lives – to protect him, would be the worst possible outcome he could ever imagine at the moment.

The idea of playing “damsel in distress” had suited Jaskier just fine – sounded all very exciting and romantic – back when Jaskier had been young and stupid and under the illusion that Geralt and Yennefer were near invincible mutant and magical higher beings that could save him without risking themselves in the process.

But people died all the time trying to protect and save those they loved, or simply trying to do the right thing – even kings. 

Sometimes, evil won, the good guys didn’t triumph, and Jaskier simply can’t be sure that, should he decline their “generous offer”, Dijkstra won’t successfully make good on his word by sending the entire Redanian army after Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri; and/or violently slaughter anyone willing to help or harbor any of them, like his friends back at the safehouse had.

Whereas if he does as Dijkstra asks, Jaskier figures that it would partly satisfy the narcissist’s apparent pathological need for absolute control and relevance; make it easier for him to be brought down. 

He might even consider it “payback” for the injuries Geralt had inflicted upon him during the Thanedd coup, and stop strongly wishing revenge upon him.

His family wouldn’t have to worry about Jaskier’s own safety anymore, and they’d be free to take whatever measure they deemed necessary to protect themselves – perhaps find a way to deal with the threat once and for all.

A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, after all, and Jaskier is painfully aware that he is that weakest link that’s currently threatening that family’s safety, and potentially offering Dijkstra and Philippa a chance to “win”.

If Radovid had been brave enough to confront his fears, and attempt to do what he had to help his people, then Jaskier figures he should honor him by being courageous enough to face his own fears, too, and do what he must to make sure his prince’s sacrifice wasn’t for naught.

So, Jaskier agrees, and Philippa tells him he has five days to put his affairs in order and secretly say his goodbyes.  She warns him that, should he speak a word of their current agreement to his family before the deed is done, she and Dijkstra will make sure they’ll be met with Redania’s full military power.

As far as Jaskier’s concerned, she doesn’t have to worry about that.

What she should have been worried about, however, is Jaskier’s uncanny ability to give life to powerful stories… 

Stories that can give people hope, courage, and help them dare to dream of something bigger, and better…

Stories that can make people sad, and angry, and perhaps even just a tad hungry for justice and retribution… 

Stories about a prince with a gentle soul and beautiful heart that dared to dream of something greater for his people – of more harmonious relations and shared power between individuals of all races, statuses, and creed – that was pushed to exile, hunted down, and later brutally murdered for his dreams and ideals; because one simple act of kindness towards strangers had left him gravely wounded and too vulnerable to defend himself when those monsters had come for him.

Stories about the bard he loved, whose songs had allowed the prince to glance at the world beyond the four walls of his castle – to become keenly aware of all the lies those in power enjoyed telling among themselves – thus helping him emotionally connect with his people’s plight and choosing to attempt doing what was right, rather than what was safe.

Stories about how these two wandering, idealistic spirits met, connected, and fell in love despite the odds and the slew of outside forces conspiring to pull them apart.

Stories about two dangerous, evil, self-serving advisors that had the queen’s head cut off and put in a box while blaming the crime on Nilfgaard to make sure there could never be peace between the Redanian Kingdom and the Nilfgaardian Empire…  That slit their king’s throat when he attempted to hold them responsible for their mistakes at Thanedd, and then did all they could to manipulate and control the prince – threatening him to meet the same fate as his brother and his brother’s queen – should he ever attempt to rebel against them.

Stories about how they tried to convince Redania’s nobles of the prince’s madness – blaming the bard for having brainwashed him to go against Redania’s best interests and being a potential threat to the newly crowned king’s life – so they would stop listening to the prince’s words, and already have someone else to blame for the tragedy, should they need to quickly dispose of him.

Stories about how the prince and the bard barely had a chance to find each other again before those evil advisors struck – murdering the rightful king of Redania’s people and those that had been looking out for him at the safehouse he’d taken refuge in while injured – while the bard had gone asking for one of the most powerful sorceresses’ help.

Stories about the way the bard’s heart was hopelessly shattered in a thousand different pieces by the tragic loss of his lover – the fragile remnants of it being held together by the love and support of his found family… 

Among them, the Elder Blood Princess and Lion Cub of Cintra – Cirilla – a powerful and passionate young woman whose own kindgom had been stolen from her when she was just a child, who’d been forced in exile and violently hunted down across the whole continent, too, by people that wished to use her for the added power she could offer them ,rather than having any desire to listen to how she wanted that power to be used for the good of all of the Continent, too.

A princess of elven and human blood dreaming about uniting these two warring worlds.  Someone that shared the prince’s own ideals about sharing power on the land with not only the elves, but all other races, too, and who would gladly have allied with the prince in his attempt to take back the Northern Kingdoms from those that sought to keep its people impoverished and submissive, had she ever been given the opportunity.

Stories about how the advisors weren’t just content with having gotten rid of a prince that could have given his people the hope, support, and courage they needed to finally fight back against their oppressors, but considered the bard now a potent threat to their power, too; thus leading them to threaten to forever take the bard’s family from him if he didn’t willingly put an end to his own life.

Stories about how those evil advisors understood nothing about love, nothing about hope, nothing about the strength that can be found in families and communities, and never realized that the bard and his prince had never ever truly been fighting alone…

Stories about how true love never dies, and how a legacy of love can be more powerful than even the worse tyrannies.

Because you can murder a king and you can silence one bard…

But you can’t silence the Voice of the Continent, nor stop its people from uniting under universal ideals while fighting to reclaim their own power back from those wishing to abuse it.

And so Jaskier spends every waking hour of his last few days either enjoying infinitely precious last moments with the beloved members of his found family, or composing songs and ballads telling those stories…

He also writes a few personal words to Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri; hoping to be able to bring them a certain sense peace and closure, at the very least.

Perhaps they’d never be fully able to forgive him for having made that decision, but he hoped that they would understand why he no longer felt like he had any strength left in him to face the possibility of them getting hurt or killed on his behalf, too.

He writes for them specific instructions regarding what to do with his book of songs, suggesting they hold onto the originals, and distribute copies of them to virtually every bard they encounter on their travels – except Valdo Marx.

Please make sure to clearly put on each copy that Valdo Marx is not to sing any of those songs under any circumstances, ever, otherwise he’s coming back to personally haunt him and anyone that would have allowed such an abject horror to happen!  And not the fun type of haunting, too!  So Ciri, don’t even think about it!  The “I’m going to make every single second of your life a living hell” kind of haunting!

Seriously, just…  keep Valdo Marx from singing anything of his and he’ll be eternally grateful, alright?

And, if it’s not too much trouble for them to make another trip to the flower field in Lettenhove – though he can already imagine Geralt making some remark about doubting there’s going to be much rest involved if the two of them are put anywhere near each other in a recline position – he’d very much appreciate being put to rest next to his prince.

As for what they choose to do about Philippa and Dijkstra, he figures it should be up to them… 

He’d rather they didn’t attempt anything that could get them hurt, or worse, but Jaskier’s all too aware that even he might be too blinded by grief to fully think rationally at the moment.

Perhaps, he muses, he’s seeing the dangers as being greater than they truly are…

People tend to do and say stupid things when they feel like they’re trapped in a corner, right?  Maybe that’s what it is, maybe it’s not… 

But he’s only human – just a bard – and he’s trying the best he can.  All he can do is hope that, in the end, that it’ll be enough…

So, before going to sleep on that fifth night – for good – Jaskier puts the finishing touches to the very last song he’ll ever write, and decides to self-indulgently give the prince and his bard their own happy ending… of sorts.

In the song, as the bard’s life slowly fades away, his soul is peacefully being transported ti some mystical place between the realms of dreams and the heavens; where his prince is waiting to take him home…

The two spirits – having finally found each other again – thus move on together to a place of love where nothing and no one will ever try to keep them apart, or harm them ever again. 

He can only hope that the ending he wrote will offer Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri some measure of peace and comfort, too.

Maybe they would think that this is what Jaskier himself believed awaited him on the other side of “the great unknown” … 

Maybe they would think that he wasn’t utterly terrified, in the end, when he drank the poison that would prematurely end his life, experienced a sense of finality the likes of which he’d never known before, resignedly closed his eyes, and quietly waited for its effect to take hold…

But Jaskier is scared, and he really can’t help but wish there was someone there with him to hold him or quietly sing him to sleep… 

Touch and sound…  Those were the two senses that were rumored to go last, weren’t they?

Still, he can’t help but consider himself lucky to have been given the possibility to die – somewhat peacefully – in his own bed whilst he sleeps; rather than be violently murdered by a predatory control-hungry monster.

He’s tried not to think about it too much or too often; but there’s been nights where he’s been plagued with terrible nightmares of what Radovid’s last moments must have been like… 

Where he’s been angrily cursing destiny for having let such a gentle, caring, and earnest soul suffer such an unkind, cruel end.

Where he’s been unable to keep the survivor’s guilt – the stubborn, pervasive belief that he should have been by Radovid’s side and shared his fate when they’d come for him – at bay.

And yet, it now occurs to him that, if he’d been there, he never would have been given the chance to finish writing their story.

If he’d died alongside the man he loved on that terrible night, then Jaskier wouldn’t have been given the chance to make sure Radovid’s hopes and dreams – the ideals he’d died for – would never be forgotten by his people.

He never would have been able to – hopefully – inspire Redania’s people to revolt against their current governing system, and bring it down.

So, maybe destiny knew what it was doing, after all, when it kept him out of harm’s way that night…

And maybe destiny knows exactly what it is doing now... 

Because, while the world might have been saddened by Radovid’s story and untimely death – especially given the unfairness and violence of it all – his people had barely ever been given the chance to learn to know him.

But they knew Jaskier – the Dandelion some called him (wrong flower, but he appreciated the intent) – in a way that felt almost intimate for some.  People easily identified with him and his tales, many loved and even idolized him...

Through their personal emotional connection to Jaskier, they would be given the chance to fall in love Radovid, and genuinely care for their fallen prince as he had, and still does.

Through the songs that might continue to be sung, long after they were both gone, they would get to experience Jaskier’s pain, his grief, his despair and anger, his visceral desire to make every moment of suffering Radovid had endured count for something – to have love and Radovid’s dreams of a better future triumph over the pain he’d had to endure in the end.

Radovid might not have been able to get a proper royal burial, but he’d still enter his people’s folklore and legends…

And Jaskier’s own loss would make Dijkstra and Philippa’s crime feel like a deeply personal attack.

They’d nicknamed him the Voice of the Continent, after all. 

Jaskier belonged to the people; some of them even felt a sense of ownership over him.

His death would make the Continent’s people feel like something had been violently stolen from them, and would be more likely to successfully in helping generate enough outrage to successfully start a revolution than Radovid’s death alone ever could have.

What was it that Yennefer’s mentor and mother figure used to say to her?

Sometimes, a flower is just a flower; and the best thing it can do for us is die…

And a “Jaskier” is just a flower, too, after all…

It seems the best thing he can do now, to give other people the proper chance and desire to change the world – hopefully for the better – is to die as well…

That realization, and the gentle sense of acceptance that accompanies it, doesn’t make the fear completely go away, but it starts feeling more familiar…

Something closer to that sense of thrill, adventure, and excitement that he’s been used to experiencing while travelling with Geralt on the road…

There’s a comforting familiarity to it that wasn’t there before, a quiet promise of something more….

A sense of love, warmth and forgiveness that is being offered to him not because he did something that he should feel guilty about, but simply because it seems that Jaskier himself desperately needs it.

So, he chooses to surrender himself to his emotions and embrace whatever he’s feeling in the moment – the good, the bad, the ugly – since it won’t change anything to what happens next anyway, and it’s awfully close to the way he’s always lived his life.

He might have slowly started yearning for a bit more stability and domesticity in the later years, but he’ll take what he can…

He’s vaguely aware of what feels like a strong, steady, loving – if slightly grieving – presence by his side that he’s being naturally drawn to; like a lost sailor at sea hearing a siren’s call.

Perhaps the poets were right, after all, and death really is but the start of a new adventure?

He tries not to get his hopes up too much, but there’s a light that’s started shining through the darkness again; inviting him to just relax, let it quietly hold him, and gently lull him to sleep…

He can feel the drowsiness settling in already and is aware that fighting to stay awake would be a fight he’s already lost. So, he chooses to trust his instincts and give in; taking the journey that will either lead him to an end, or to a new beginning.

Soon after he starts drifting, Jaskier discovers that his own sense of poetry hadn’t been too far from reality, as he immediately finds himself standing in a realm that exists somewhere between life and death, right in front of the one he's most longed to see.

The experience might be a bit more straightforward and less whimsical than one would have expected but, given how confused and overwhelmed he already feels, you sure won’t find him complaining.

He can sense that even Radovid is struggling with conflicting emotions regarding what’s happening, too.

And it’s not just his usual empathy at play, either; Jaskier can genuinely feel some of Radovid’s emotions as if they were his own…

There’s some shock over Jaskier having come to find him so soon – through a self-inflicted means, no less – some regret and sadness over what his love has had to endure at the hands of the two spymasters, and the heartbreaking choice they’d pushed him to make that had resulted in his presence here.

Jaskier begins feeling a bit sheepish about it, and is about to apologize, when the focus of the prince’s feelings shift to allow Jaskier to sense the deep relief that his presence is bringing him, and the fragile sense of renewed hope and wonderment that accompanies it.

It's all simply a manifestation of who Radovid is, the bard realizes…

His innate compassion making him grieve for all that Jaskier has had to suffer since his own death – including choosing to leave his family behind to keep them safe – while his own wants and needs are filling him with joy over the prospect of being properly reunited with the man he loves.

Although he would gladly have waited a few decades for him to come and join him – if that meant Jaskier would have been given the chance to live a long and happy life, and continue writing and singing his songs – Radovid would be lying if he said he was displeased with the idea of that wait being over.

So, he does his best to convey that he’s not disappointed in Jaskier or in what he’s just done.  

He gets it.  Regardless of whether Radovid himself believes that Jaskier made the right decision or not, he gets it. 

He’s not planning on giving his love a hard time for having taken Dijkstra’s “deal”, given how terrified he’d been of his family getting hurt had he chosen to get them involved.

Still, it’s hard for him to fully rejoice over his own gain, when it came with such a hefty cost...

He’s elated to see him, but heartbroken for Jaskier and the rest of the family he had to leave behind.

That’s really all there is to it.

And, in this place between life and death, Jaskier quickly discovers that the prince’s presence feels like a promise of warmth, love, peace, forgiveness and safety all wrapped in one – pushing back firmly against his own doubts, guilt and fears – apparently quite determined to make sure he wouldn’t risk becoming a lost soul struggling to find his way to the other side.

And he’s grateful for it, because Jaskier has absolutely no idea what’s supposed to happen now – what he’s supposed to do, or where he’s meant to go next (with the number of times he’s been cursed and called the “son of a devil” in life, he wouldn’t be surprised there actually was some kind of hellish dimension waiting to welcome him somewhere)…   And he would definitely rather he landed some place safe.

In the meantime, Yennefer has a dream about and owl flying over a buttercup field; blocking out the sun and making the flowers die in its shadow…

She wakes up with a profound sense of dread and, recognizing what the flowers mean, rushes towards Jaskier’s room.

By the time she finds him, however, Jaskier’s spirit has already moved beyond her reach… 

Jaskier can still vaguely hear and feel her, and draw comfort from her presence and her love, too, but he can’t answer her nor respond to her touch….

She sounds frantic and desperate, begging him to wake up and return to them, but he can’t.  More importantly, the more it goes, the less he wants to.

He’s always chosen his family over everything else…. But Radovid now feels like family, too – like home…

He’s a part of him and a part of them, but they can’t all stay together nor share a single home – at least not anymore, and not yet…  

He knows he will miss her – miss them – but Yennefer, Geralt, and Ciri will have each other.  Never lost, always found.

Radovid, however, has spent his whole life being lost, until he’d finally found someone that had made him feel like home, too.  Someone that truly suited him.

And Jaskier gets it now – why Geralt went back in that house, so many years ago, to save that “mad fucking witch” despite the risks involved.

Because even if he could still go back, he doesn’t think he’d be selfless nor strong enough to walk away from Radovid this time.

Not with the knowledge that Ciri has safely been reunited with her parents, and he’s already done all he could to help them.

Somehow, it feels like Jaskier’s destiny has always been to bring his two best friends and their daughter together – move their stories forward – perhaps move the rest of the Continent’s stories forward, too.

And he got the chance to actively partake in some of those stories and that shared destiny for a while; something he’ll always be eternally grateful for.   

He knows that, no matter what happens to him, no matter where he ends up on the other side, he’ll continue to carry that love in his heart – well, the spiritual equivalent of it, at least – wherever he goes, and whatever he does.

He can only hope that, one day, they will all meet again…

“Come with me, then…” Radovid offers, tenderly grabbing Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier can’t help but be brought back to the first time he’d heard these words…

His prince had been so open and earnest back then – much like he still is now – while Jaskier’s mind had been plagued with so many fears and doubts…

There are a few words Jaskier wishes he could have taken back – chief among them, perhaps, having ever accused him of being nothing but a lie and some empty mask…

If only he’d been able to trust in what he’d seen in him and what he’d known in his heart back then, perhaps he’d have spared them both a lot of hurt…

I know and I understand, it’s okay, Jaskier…

He doesn’t notice Radovid’s lips moving, nor does he remember having spoken the words out loud, but maybe he didn’t need to.

Ever since he’d physically touched his hand, things had started feeling different.

“You’re in no danger, I promise…” Radovid gently reassures him, out loud this time to avoid generating any more confusion, searching for Jaskier’s gaze, reaching for that connection, silently begging him to let go of the pain and the last few remnants of fear he feels now, and trust him.

And he does trust him – with everything he is…   He knows Radovid feels it, too…   But, though his mind is set on what he wants – on what he needs – there’s something else affecting him and making him hesitate…

Radovid looks like he’s aware of it also, and patiently waits without attempting to push him – just keeping him grounded there with his gaze, ready to catch him…

Back among the living, Yennefer quietly weeps as she gingerly holds Jaskier’s body in her arms – mourning the fact that there are some wounds magic simply can’t heal, while waiting – and bracing – for the inevitable.

Yennefer knows how powerful she is and – while she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly be ready for losing or letting go of anyone she loves – she doesn’t want to risk prolonging her friend’s suffering by desperately attempting to continue to cling to him, either.

So, she’s finally stopped begging him to wake up and telling him she still needs him;  focusing instead on simply making sure to keep him as warm and comfortable as she can, on reminding him of just how much he is loved, and on expressing hope that he’ll have a peaceful, easy journey.

Though she can’t know for sure what awaits Jaskier on the other side, either, she chooses to believe in hope, and in love, and quietly asks Radovid to watch over him and take good care of him for them.  For the two of them to take care of each other.

She gives him her blessing to let go, and promises that Geralt, Ciri and herself will all keep on looking after each other after he’s gone, and that they’ll be okay, eventually. 

They will hurt, and mourn, and miss him – more than he’ll ever know – but they will find a way to move forward as a family, until they meet again…

Somehow, it seems to effectively sever the last thread that was keeping Jaskier tethered to the living, and he fully reaches out for his prince, deepening the connection, fully opening his soul up to him, and holding nothing back.

The abrupt shift takes Radovid a bit by surprise, but he’d be the last complaining!  How could he, when he finally has what he’s always wanted?  When he and Jaskier are together with no big title, or senseless human hate and politics, or supernatural monsters, or even death threatening to tear them apart.

It almost feels surreal – to them both – that anything about them could ever feel so simple, light, and peaceful, considering everything they’d been through to get there; but they come to the mutual conclusion that it had all been worth it.

Despite all the pain, heartache, and the sacrifices that had been made, this – what they share now – is worth everything…

Jaskier’s last breath sounds like a gentle, content sigh, and Yennefer feels his body fully going lax against hers - his heart becoming still moments later.

She wants to be angry at him, but more importantly, she needs to understand…   She knows Radovid’s loss had hit him hard, but she also knows just how stubborn and contradictory Jaskier could be.

He was the kind of person that would have survived out of spite, or just to prove anyone that expected him to be utterly broken up by his loss wrong.

And most importantly, he was the kind of person that ultimately always put those he loved first, to the point of self-sacrifice at times.

And she knew he loved them – especially Ciri – so much…

Or maybe that was the problem; Jaskier had always given so much of himself to others that, perhaps, he’d reached the very limits of his reserves, and had felt he needed rest?

Still, something about all of this doesn’t feel right.

Jaskier, Geralt and herself had grown so close together over the years that they’d moved way past the point of being ashamed of the idea of being seen at their weakest or most vulnerable by the others.

Jaskier had seen the scars on her own wrists, she’d even been comfortable enough to open up with him about it, so he knew what she’d been through…. 

And she can’t help but feel like – had he been plagued with such dark thoughts that he’d been genuinely considering putting an end to his own life – he’d come to talk to her about it.

Maybe that’s why she can’t bring herself to be angry at him, and can only feel utterly lost.

Because ever since Radovid had been murdered, he’d been very upfront and open about his grief and the pain it had caused him.

He'd cried, he’d screamed, he’d gone numb, he’d had moments where he’d felt like the emotions were too strong and threatening to suffocate him…   

None of it had he tried to hide.  Unlike Tissaia, he’d never attempted to lull any of them into a sense of false safety, nor pretend that he knew he’d be doing okay.

No…  Even when Jaskier had closed himself off and tried to pretend that things didn’t affect him the way they did, he’d nevertheless put his feelings into songs, and belted them out for the whole world – or select precious few – to hear.

They knew about his nightmares, too.  She and Geralt had heard him whimpering in his bed one night, shared one silent look of agreement, and Geralt had gotten out of bed, walked straight to Jaskier’s bedroom, and walked out with a barely struggling and whining bard in his arms.

He'd unceremoniously dropped Jaskier right in the middle of their own bed, Yennefer had immediately wrapped herself around him – ignoring the few indignant words of protest – and Geralt had then joined them, tightly snuggling up against Jaskier’s other side.

The bard had done his very best to pretend being annoyed until Geralt had said “Would you just let us be selfish, and properly love you, for once, Jask?”

He’d started shaking and crying then, allowing them to hold onto him more tightly, letting Yennefer soothingly run her hand through his hair and nuzzle his cheek, while Geralt kept whispering that he was there, and he was strong and large enough to hold Jaskier firmly in place and help put him back together, if he felt like coming apart…

And come apart he had – quite a few times.  At first, Geralt would continue to be the one to go pick Jaskier up from his bed to bring him back to their room, the bard no longer attempting to object by then.

Until eventually, Jaskier had started sneaking into their bed on his own – seeking warmth and comfort to help keep the nightmares at bay – in the middle of some of those more restless nights.

One night, Yennefer had woken up to discover that Ciri had snuck into their bedroom as well, and was now sprawled on top of the covers, using the three slumbering adults as a mattress.

She’d gently nudged Jaskier until he’d woken up, and his subsequent laugh – upon seeing Ciri gracelessly sleeping on top of them, lightly snoring and drooling all over Geralt’s hair – had been one the most beautiful and hopeful sounds she’d heard from him since Radovid’s passing.

So yes, she had known how much Jaskier had been hurting, and she knew that it was a loss he might never have fully recovered from; but she’d also watched and felt him slowly heal.

And, more importantly, he’d been allowing them to help him heal as well, drawing strength and love from the connection they all shared.

So, the idea of him just killing himself like this, without giving the people he loved a chance to help him through that more specific type of pain and darkness… or even just ever mentioning he might have experienced a desire to do so to any of them at any given time…

Something about it doesn’t feel right.  Not after everything they’ve been through.

She takes a moment to collect herself, playing with his hair like she often did lately, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he truly was no longer there with her, and never again would be – at least not in this world.

She can’t afford to break down, though, because she knows that she’ll have to break the news to Geralt, and Ciri, and she feels like she needs to be strong for them as their world suddenly comes crashing down on them.

As expected, both take the news of the bard’s passing very hard and are just as confused and devastated as she is as they attempt to understand why it happened.

Ciri is the one that notices Jaskier’s songbook and finds the letters.  While it doesn’t make his loss any better, at the very least, it does finally make it make some sense.

In a way, it makes the whole situation both better and worse.  Better, because they won’t be living with the horrible guilt of having missed any warning sign that Jaskier was more depressed than he was letting them know, nor feeling like they hadn’t done enough to bring him love and comfort after the loss of his love.

No, Jaskier had been very clear in his letters about that – being a part of their family was something he’d absolutely loved, had continued to bring him joy even through his grief, had given him the strength and the willpower to push through the pain and the loss, and had made every second of his life worth living.

And it made it worse, because he’d been so terrified of Dijkstra and Philippa managing to successfully carry out their threat – knowing he’d be unable to survive the guilt of having allowed them all to be massacred when he’d been given the option to prevent it from happening by being the only one to die – that he’d felt the need to sacrifice himself to keep them all safe.

Death wasn’t something he’d truly yearned for nor wanted, but something he’d been pushed towards.  Something he had chosen to avoid suffering an even more devastating alternative.

Yennefer no longer feels lost and confused, but utterly heartbroken over knowing that Jaskier’s life had essentially been stolen from him; much like Radovid’s, and by the same people.

Geralt blames himself – thinking he should have killed Dijkstra when he’d had the chance or, at least, gone after him the very moment they’d suspected he was behind the King’s murder. 

He believes he should have realized that they’d come after Jaskier, too, and done more to protect him.

And, as expected, Ciri is utterly devastated by the loss of the one person in her family that provided her with a certain sense of normalcy, and the closest thing to a friend she could afford to have while living on the run.

Although, if Jaskier’s plan works and the songs he’s written generate sufficient anger and outrage among the people of the Continent, she might not need to hide for much longer…

While generally kept subtle – to make sure to offer Ciri a choice in the matter – a few of the songs Jaskier has written hint at Ciri being a natural spiritual heir to Radovid… 

An Elder Blood Princess – part human, part elven – with dreams of uniting those two warring worlds, while making more room for dwarves, gnomes, and other races to be included in shaping the fate of the Continent and making decisions for their own people.

The White Wolf’s Child of Surprise, raised among nobility until her own people were slaughtered and her kingdom taken from her, then taken in by the School of the Wolf after being found by Geralt, learning to fight and protect herself – and others – from all kinds of monsters, before finding a mother figure in a powerful sorceress and being mercilessly hunted down by various people wishing to use her for her powers; finding comfort and protection in the generosity and kindness of the common folks…

Having seen and experienced how so many different groups of people on the Continent live, and witnessed firsthand their sufferings, conflicts, and misunderstandings, she could be the kind of leader that – if placed at the head of the Northern Kingdoms – might be able to make her and Radovid’s shared ideals regarding uniting its people and changing the system of government a reality.

She could offer sufficient stability to ensure a smooth transition between pure monarchy and a more democratic system that would highly depend on shared power and collaboration between races – or, at the very least, give it her best try.

And, while those little “hints” are generally subtle, there is one song – that he joined to his personal letter to her – that is literally an invitation for people to join her in taking back Redania from those that want to uphold a status quo that is putting so many at a disadvantage.

She once expressed the belief that, if Aelirenn had received support from her Elders, she might have succeeded or suffered a lesser defeat, at least.  And it seems that Jaskier’s parting gift to her is using his own gifts and talents with words to attempt to actively generate the level of support she might need to foster such changes, should she wish to follow that path.

She knows that, if that is the case, then she’ll be able to count on Yennefer and Geralt’s love and support.

For now, they have Dijkstra and Philippa to take care of. 

Still, they take a moment to properly grieve and honor Jaskier’s last wishes, burying him alongside Radovid under the large tree in his favorite buttercup field, back in Lettenhove.

It is a beautiful yet simple private ceremony, and Ciri surprises both her parents by going to sit under the tree at some point – much like Jaskier used to when he was younger – and singing “A Little Sacrifice”.

Geralt and Yennefer recognize the song as the story Jaskier often sang to Ciri to lull her to sleep…

They’d never heard her sing it, though.  Jaskier had been giving her lute and singing lessons, but Ciri had always insisted on being alone with him – too shy and self-conscious to sing in front of “people that didn’t really know how singing worked.”

People that didn’t understand the amount of time and efforts that went into developing one’s vocal instrument – the muscle control and fine level of precision needed to produce and sustain the right vocal tone or color to match the style of a song, and the emotions one wishes to convey.

That’s when Geralt had learned that Jaskier had never been a naturally gifted singer.  But he’d always had a natural gift with words, poetry, and learning to play musical instruments.

For someone with such a fine musical ear, suffering from pitch issues, because you struggled convincing your larynx muscles to collaborate together – among other things – had been quite a bit confronting.

Especially back at university, while his voice had still been developing, and Valdo Marx had enjoyed mercilessly mocking his performances.

Over the course of his studies, with regular practice and training, Jaskier’s vocal talents had thankfully developed and even surpassed Valdo’s!

It was, of course, something the other bard would never have been willing to admit and had only resulted in increasing the natural animosity between them (hence, Valdo’s annoying habit of pretending to constantly “forget” Jaskier’s name, as a way of symbolically erasing his existence!).

If he was completely honest about it, Geralt had been quite shocked to learn that Jaskier hadn’t just come out of his mother’s womb singing already, given that he made it look and sound so effortless!

Even the way Jaskier spoke often had a certain beautiful and artistic musicality to it!

There again, the reason behind it, Geralt had learned, was a little bittersweet.  Jaskier had admitted he’d started being a little creative in his speaking patterns – playing with flow, pitch, intonation, length… – because he’d constantly been trying to find new ways to improve his muscle control and maintain every little gain he’d made through his singing practices, without making it too obvious that he was still practicing even when he wasn’t.

With time, the way he spoke had become so comfortable and such a part of his identity that it had just kept occurring naturally.

The whole exchange had also offered Geralt some perspective on why Jaskier was so sensitive and easily hurt when people harshly criticized his skills as a bard.

He’d thus felt the need to apologize profusely for having once said that his singing was like “ordering a pie and finding it had no filling”, and tried to make it very clear that – in his highly stressed and profoundly sleep deprived state back then – he’d been more irritable than usual, and upset that Jaskier could see right through him and know why he couldn’t sleep (when Geralt himself hadn’t feel ready to discuss or confront it).

So, he'd responded callously; hoping that would get Jaskier off his back. 

That didn’t make what he’d said right, but he’d hoped it would help Jaskier understand that there had never been the slightest bit of truth to those words – his voice had never been “empty” or without substance.  

Jaskier had tried to dismiss the apology, saying he’d figured as much and had already forgiven him years ago, but Geralt had been quite insistent.

Because Jaskier’s singing was actually like finally being allowed to take a long, hot bath, and having someone rub chamomile on your tired, sore, and overworked muscles, after returning from a difficult hunt, he’d said.

His voice had always brought him peace and comfort, he’d always loved listening to it even when he’d pretended that he didn’t, and so he really needed Jaskier to know.

And, judging by the way Jaskier had started trembling while holding back tears at the compliment, until Geralt had pulled him in his arms, whispered against his ear again a few times that he was sorry and that his singing voice was beautiful, while letting his bard weep and cling to him – he’d been right to insist on making sure that Jaskier would properly take the time to hear his words and believe them.

Sadly, while far from being insensitive to other people’s suffering or lacking compassion, Geralt had never been as skilled as Jaskier had been when it came to being able to “read people” and understand what they were feeling.  Typically, if someone said “I’m fine” he’d just assume they were fine and move on, or think they weren’t ready to discuss it yet and wait for them to let him know when they were rather than continuously attempting to prod them on the subject.

So, it had taken him a while to figure out that Jaskier had always been extremely good at masking or dismissing his own hurt to make others more comfortable.  That if Jaskier said “I’m fine” and you didn’t insist – even if your intent simply was to respect his boundaries and give him some time and space to process things – then he might assume you didn’t want to be bothered with it.

Once Geralt had figured it out, however, he’d made every effort to start paying closer attention to little hints that something was wrong or bothering him; and would gently nudge Jaskier to open up whenever he was being stubborn about it.

Geralt had started using more words, being more affectionate, showing appreciation for the little and not so little things and the efforts Jaskier made to make their lives easier and happier.

And Jaskier had valued Geralt’s efforts, even – or maybe especially – when he was clearly venturing outside of his comfort zone and being awkward about it.

That had been part of Jaskier’s unique powers, though – making your vulnerabilities feel like strengths whenever you allowed yourself to express them around him.

So, he’d understood where his daughter had been coming from when she’d expressed that – since Jaskier intimately understood that every singer had to start somewhere, and since he used to struggle with finding his own voice, too – she felt more at ease with him being the only one having to hear her own beginner’s mistakes.

According to Jaskier, however, Ciri was being quite the perfectionist and a little harsh on herself, because she had a naturally beautiful and well-balanced – if slightly unpolished – voice.

While he’d still thought it best to let her to fully decide when she’d be ready to let her voice be heard by others, and by whom; it had been the bard’s opinion that she would have been good enough – even without formal training – to sing in front of a crowd to keep them captivated for at least an hour!

And now that Geralt is finally given the opportunity to hear her sing, he understands why Jaskier thought she’d be able to seduce an audience.

Ciri’s voice breaks on some of the words, and she needs to take a pause here and there to let a few tears flow and steady her breathing throughout her performance, but it’s an absolutely beautiful, moving, haunting, and quite captivating one.

Somehow, Yennefer and he had spent so much time training her fighting and magical abilities, that they’d never wondered if she might have had a gift for storytelling.

A stunned silence follows the end of the song, until Geralt declares:

“Fuck. You’re a bard.”

Geralt’s delivery is so perfect that they all start laughing through their tears.

“And a Princess…”  Ciri eventually adds, thoughtfully looking in the direction of the place where Jaskier and Radovid are now resting together.

“What if I did want to come out of hiding to sing their songs?” she asks.

Come out of hiding, on the hope that they would listen to her and be moved enough by Jaskier’s lyrics (some songs already had a few melodies written, but for others – since he’d sadly been a bit short on time – he’d made hurried notes about their general structure, and had chosen to trust that the bard that would choose to sing them would be able to create their own melodies to accompany the words) to see her as she was, and allow her to remain generally safe amongst them.

And, while Ciri might still feel a bit nervous at the thought of singing in public, Jaskier had explained to her that it was normal to feel vulnerable and exposed every single time you put yourself out there.

But that performing in front of an audience was a rush of adrenaline that heightened your senses, brought the whole world into focus, and made you feel more alive than ever!

So, she figures that – if she can face a monster with a sword head on while getting a similar rush out of it – she’s likely able to face a crowd with a lute.

Especially Jaskier’s lute…

In his letter to her, he’d written that, should she wish to keep his lute and continue to play it despite its little imperfection, he’d love for her to have it.

When his lute had been struck with an arrow that had been meant for him, at first, Jaskier had pretended that he didn’t want to get a new one, because “you don’t just get rid of an instrument that brings you luck!”

So, he’d patched it up, and declared that he preferred the sound quality that this slight modification had given to the resonance of its body.

Later, after having told them the story of how he and Radovid had met – that the same lute that had stopped the arrow from hurting or killing him had been the one that Radovid had caught before it could be irreparably shattered to the ground – he'd admitted it had been the main reason he’d wanted to keep it.

Because it would have been destroyed if Radovid hadn’t intervened, and then, he wouldn’t have had it on his back when the archer had taken that shot at him.  Indirectly, Radovid had kept him safe, and so the lute had become a way for him to feel closer to his prince and the silent promise of what that new and intriguing connection might grow to represent in the future for him…

Later, the lute had also become a tool they’d used to communicate their feelings for each other… 

Despite barely knowing how to play, Radovid had nevertheless been brave enough to play and sing Jaskier’s song back to him…  He’d been adorably shy about it, too – his warm, deep voice kept barely above a whisper, like a soft caress.  At least, that’s how Jaskier had described those events to her (obviously, he’d kept the most intimate details of their encounter to himself).

It hadn’t been the first time someone had sung one of Jaskier’s songs back to him – fans he occasionally encountered that were excited to recognize him and eager to show it, for example.

But it was the very first time someone had sung one of his songs with such reverence and tenderness, as a way of expressing that they shared Jaskier’s desires and feelings.

After that, “lightly damaged or not”, the lute had become one of Jaskier’s most precious possessions, and the thought of having it replaced by a newer instrument had never once crossed his mind.

Besides, the part where he’d said the slight modification he’d made to repair it had improved the resonance of the instrument hadn’t actually been a lie.  It now had a distinct sound that was quite rich, unique, and beautiful and that he’d grown very fond of.

Not to mention that Jaskier had always firmly believed that having a few scratches and battle scars shouldn’t make an instrument – or even person – any less valuable, precious, or beautiful…

And now, Ciri believes that, if she’s to sing their story to the rest of world, she can’t imagine a better instrument to do it with than the lute that had become a symbol of their love.

“Then we’ll be attending every single one of your performances…” Geralt vows, voice still raw from crying, and laughing, and just the general emotion of it all.

“And what if I also wanted to ask the people of the Continent – elves, dwarves, gnomes… – to help me take Redania back from the current King?” Ciri adds a bit more hesitantly, knowing the risks she’d be asking her family to expose themselves to, should they agree.

The moment Yennefer had seen the additions Jaskier had made to his songbook, she’d known it was coming.

She remembers having once asked Jaskier, a few years ago, why he’d been willing to take those risks to help the elves find safe refuge – why he’d become “The Sandpiper”.

And the same compassion, courage, and desire to help preserve people’s right to exist safely in the world – just the way they are – that had run in the bard’s veins also ran deep in Ciri’s.

“Well, I’d ask if the mage adviser position was still open,” Yennefer asks sincerely, looking at her daughter with infinite love and pride in her eyes.

Ciri simply nods, too moved and relieved to have her support to find her voice.

She would find her voice tough... Soon.

Soon, she’d go out there, spread Jaskier’s songs throughout the Continent, and gather the support she’d need to make Radovid’s ideals happen.

“And I’d probably grumble something and complain about how Destiny keeps insisting that I get involved into all of these ridiculous political situations when I keep telling everyone I don’t want to…” Geralt started mumbling, earning him amused, knowing looks from the two ladies in his life.

“But we’re witchers,” he adds with a soft smile.  “That’s our job to protect the world from monsters.”

And right now, there were two monsters that very much needed stopping.

“Even if that means I’d have to perfect my lute playing skills, and you’ll have to suffer through a few weeks of regular rehearsals?” Ciri teases, making Geralt groan painfully.

“Ugh, I’m already regretting this….”he says, obviously not meaning it, making Yennefer roll her eyes at him, and Ciri laugh through her tears again.

Yennefer can’t sincerely think of a better way to honor her friend and his lover’s memory than helping Ciri become the voice – and the queen – the Continent still desperately needs.

And most importantly, she can see that Ciri really wants it, too.

She wants to get involved, take the power back from those seeking to abuse it, and be an agent for change.

She wants to help fix and heal what she can in the world.

She’d already hinted as much back at Shaerrawedd.

Had Ciri made it sound like she felt obligated to carry Radovid and Jaskier’s legacy in the wake of their untimely deaths, she might have been more hesitant to offer her that level of support.

But she’d always wanted it…   The prince’s brutal murder, followed by the loss of Jaskier’s life, is only the very last straw for her – the last push Ciri had needed to choose to stop doubting herself and act upon her desire to make those changes happen, regardless of any risk of death or failure.

As for Geralt, he remembers the conversation he’d had with Jaskier, back when he’d suggested that they bring Ciri to Redania.

He’d said that Ciri wasn’t a witcher, nor an Aratuzan witch, but a princess.  And that he should trust her.

While his concerns over Dijkstra attempting to use her as a political pawn had proven valid, so had Jaskier’s intuitions regarding what his daughter wanted most.

And he is now determined to trust her.

Near the end of their private ceremony, Yennefer excuses herself, saying that she needs a moment alone to help her process a few things.

Thankfully, Geralt knows her well enough to understand.  They all have their own ways of coping with grief – some of them are meant to be shared while drawing comfort and strength from their loved one’s presence and love, and some of them need to be expressed in private, sometimes unleashed without restraint.

She then runs off in the nearby woods to finally allow herself to fully experience the weight of the bard’s loss without needing to be strong or holding back for the sake of anyone else.

To process the shock and trauma of having found her best and closest friend lying in his bed, unresponsive and barely still breathing…

The heart wrenching realization that he’d already moved beyond the point where she would be able to heal and revive him; his soul apparently no longer able – or unwilling – to return after having already journeyed so far…

Every single drop of deep anguish and pain she’d had to push aside to focus on offering him as much love and comfort as she could in his last moments instead, and make his passing more peaceful…

Every once of grief and sadness she’d stopped herself from feeling to keep her head clear enough to help make the news of the bard’s unexpected departure from their lives easier for Geralt and Ciri to process…

All of it finally culminates and violently rushes out of her in a great burst of chaos and infinite sadness, as she lets out a primal, guttural cry!

Instead of fire, however, her chaos provokes an intense, warm, and cleansing rainfall; making the heavens weep alongside her, the abundant raindrops mixing with her own tears.

Although she’d always known that, as a mage, she was likely to outlive him, she’d always thought they would have had more years left together. 

Jaskier had only been in his early forties, still young – even by human standards – and now he was gone… 

And she’d never have the chance to properly tell him goodbye, and let him know just how much he’d meant – and always would mean – to her.

He’d helped her find her way back after she’d lost her magic, showing her nothing but compassion, understanding and kindness despite how horribly she had used to treat him, and their rather disastrous first encounter together.

Yes, she’d saved his life back then, but she’d also immediately proceeded to violate his boundaries and terrify him to get what she desperately wanted from him the very moment he’d come out of his magically induced healing coma.

That he’d found it in his heart to not only forgive her but grow to see her as a source of warmth, safety, and protection over the years, had been a greater gift than what she ever could have expected from anyone.

But thankfully, Jaskier had known…  

If the words of his last letter to her were to be believed, he’d known…

And she would have to draw comfort from that.

After a while, both her emotions and the rain subside, leaving her feeling calmer, exhausted, and slightly numb – yet no longer disconnected from herself – as the skies finally clear.

She returns to the buttercup field to find Geralt and Ciri sitting together under the tree, talking quietly, having found cover from the rain there.

The moment they notice her they stand up and go meet her halfway, wrapping her up in a heartfelt embrace.  She allows herself to shed a few more tears with them, basking in their love and presence, expressing their shared grief, before they all tell Jaskier and his prince one last farewell – though they promise to come and visit from time to time – and portal back home.

On the day following their return, Geralt chooses to go after Dijkstra to finish what he’d started at Thanedd Island; making sure he would never be given the chance to harm any member of his family – or anyone on the Continent – ever again.

A few nights after Dijkstra goes missing (roughly the time Geralt would have needed to make his way back home to his family), Philippa finds a box containing the head of her long-time partner with a bloodied crown on top of her pillow; a bouquet of bright yellow buttercups having been carefully placed next to it (by someone with magic powerful enough to get past her wards).

That night, she mysteriously vanishes from the surface of the Continent, never to be seen or heard from again.

One day, the legends will say that she chose to live the remainder of her days as an owl, rather than risk facing any of the bard and his prince’s remaining family members’ wrath.

Likely one of her wisest decisions given that, as Jaskier had predicted, the number of people experiencing a family-like kinship towards the two star-crossed lovers – and those they’d left behind – keep on growing as their tales are being sung throughout the Continent.

Everywhere Princess Cirilla travels, people offer her, Geralt, and Yennefer shelter and protection, and, over the years, her own immediate family grows.

After she successfully reclaims Redania, she has a son with her very best friend in the whole wide world (and most frequent travel companion), Dara (the two of them reconcile shortly after she becomes a bard), that they name Prince Julian (the first of his name).  And she marries a strong dwarven warrior, Leokadia (that Yarpen introduces her to).

Redania thus becomes the first kingdom ruled by two interracial Queens.

She also ends up writing many of her own compositions, often going on the road to sing them and meet with her people – perhaps even slay a monster or two or find some middle ground between villagers and the “monstrous creature” sharing their land, whenever said creature proves to be no monster at all.

Jaskier’s lute thus gains quite a few more scratches and wear marks during her travels, but never breaks nor gets lost; later becoming a beloved family heirloom passed from generation to generation.

Eventually, they all reunite and continue their adventures in the great beyond, having left the world of the living a better place than the way they initially found it.

And, if when they finally get there, each one of them feel the need to briefly give Jaskier a bit of an earful regarding how very stupid what he did was, and that he should have trusted that they’d be able to deal with Dijkstra and Philippa, Jaskier only takes it as a sign that they’ve never stopped loving nor missing him.

After all, he’s never stopped loving nor missing them, too.

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