The White Wolf and A Stray Puppy

You Remind Me Of Someone

It's been a few years, our reputation gradually getting better from every town we came and they were all singing that damned song. Surely we must be traveling behind the bard. And after two years we finally caught up on him. It was in an inn just behind the borders of Cidaris when we heard that familiar voice singing the praises of the White Wolf. I looked up at my travel companion, who just rolled his eyes and searched for a place to sit, preferably out of sight of the young bard.

And that was when I spotted him. Five years had passed and he still looked the same, he didn't age one day... We locked eyes and his expression grew even more cheery than it was before. Excitedly he almost skipped towards me. "Milady, what a joy it is to see you again," he said. "Our common friend doesn't happen to be here as well?" I laughed. "Oh, he's just there in the corner. Come on." And with that I lead the bard to Geralt's table, the witcher's expression growing annoyed as he saw us approaching. "Why'd you bring him here?" he asked, directed at me. "I missed you, too," said the bard. Geralt rolled his eyes. "Come on, Geralt. We owe this kid so much. Letting him sit with us when we happen to be in the same town is the least we can do," I said, sitting down, pointing at the bard to do the same. And he did, immediately starting to ramble on about how he made us famous, and how that made him famous, and so on. I didn't really pay attention to what he was saying, and I could tell the witcher didn't either, but we did for different reasons.

I can't tell for whatever reason Geralt didn't listen to the bard, but for me... Well, I finally really looked at the bard. Back when we met I more or less only glanced at him. He seemed so familiar. Not because we had already met, no, it was something else, but I couldn't, by the gods above, figure out what it was.

I realized I must have been staring at the now confused looking bard, an elbow hitting my side ripping me out of my trance. "What?!" I asked them both, glaring at the witcher while rubbing my ribs. "I could be the one to ask that," replied the bard. "You've been staring at me for at least half an hour. Should I be flattered?" he added the last sentence with a playful chuckle. "Ugh, no. It- It's just... you remind me of someone, and for fuck's sake, I can't figure out who," I confessed.

His hair, his eyes, the bone structure of his face... it almost looked like... no, that's insane! He almost reminded me of - of my father when he was younger.

"How old are you?" I asked the bard, suddenly, without giving any context. "23, why?" 23... 23... twenty-three years ago my mother died, while giving birth. I was five. Now I'm 28... could it be that this bard was... no, he couldn't be my brother! The baby died, together with my mother, or did he?

"I'll let you two discuss this alone," said Geralt, standing up and downing his ale in one go. He left, either to rent a room or look after the horses, but I didn't really care. What I cared about now is the bard in front of me.

"You look like my father," mumbled at him. "What?" I wasn't sure if he didn't understand me, or simply was surprised, so I said it again, but louder. "You look like my father. And my mother died giving birth to a boy, and he would be your age now, and- " I rambled only to be interrupted by the bard. "Hold on. So, you think that I could be your brother?" I nodded. "Well, I didn't grow up in my family. The woman who raised me later told me that my father had to give me away; he couldn't care for a new-born." I felt stupid for not asking the most obvious question to solve this mystery earlier. "Where do you come from?" He answered "Oh, from around here. A small town a little outside of Kerack,"

It hit me, my facial expression going blank. There was only one town outside of Kerack that could be described as 'a little outside' - all the others took three to four days to reach...by horse - and that town was the one place on the whole Continent I swore to never set a foot in again. "I grew up there, too," I whispered, but he heard me. "Though," I said, fully facing him. "that place has been a lot kinder to you than it was to me." My brother looked at me, questioningly. "How so? I mean... You're traveling together with the White Wolf! How did you two meet, by the way?" I looked around at all the cheery people in the tavern, no place to tell my tragic story. "Not here. Come on,"

With that I led him outside and to the stables, the presence of Roach and Vána calming me down. Having to relive the memories I had from my former life, before I met the witcher, before he saved me, made my heart race, my nerves flutter and my stomach turn. In short, it made me anxious.

"After mother died, father raised me alone. He was a hunter. One day he was attacked by a wild boar. The wounds became infected. He sold me to the town's whore house, to have someone provide until he got better, but he died.

On my fourteenth birthday I was forced to become a whore. Over seven years I was treated like shit, until one day I escaped. I didn't make it far, though. Some men, costumers of the brothel, recognized me on the road and beat me up, planning to rape me as soon as I lost consciousness. But they didn't, they couldn't, because Geralt happened to be on his way to Kerack, and he heard my screaming. He saved me that day from certain death, brought me with him and cared for me; and when my keeper found out where I was, Geralt bought me from him, saving me from death again. And I decided to stay with him, helping him during the hunts, trying to repay him for saving me, twice."

My brother just looked at me, stunned, as I told him my story while combing my icy fingers through Vána's mane in an attempt to calm me down. I turned towards him, noticing tears in his eyes, the cheery boy who greeted me two hours ago completely gone. "I-I, I'm so sorry," he rasped out reaching out for me to pull me into a tight hug. I melted into his embrace, happy to have a part of my real family back. Don't get me wrong, I loved Geralt, Roach and Vána like they were my family, and they are, but knowing that I'm not the only person of my blood left, sparked immense joy inside of me. So while my brother was suppressing tears of pity, I wept tears of joy and relief into his colorful doublet.

As we were standing there, the horses watching us quietly, I realized something. "You've never told us your name," I stated, looking up at him. "It's Jaskier. And yours?" "Nienna," I smiled.