Our Paths

Chapter 9: Announcement

After a thorough search of the wing, some maids had the bath prepared. At first it was difficult to convince the bard to pause from his search. However, with an incentive from Geralt, Jaskier was much more willing to cave if only for an hour.

An hour was all they needed. As Geralt nude form settled into the perfumed waters, Jaskier covered himself in a fine robe. Lowering himself to be behind the witcher as he combed through his silvery locks, humming a quiet tune for only them to hear.

Erwin waited outside the door, watching the bard rush back and forth for his own minerals to add. Once satisfied with his additions, he removed his robe and lowered himself into the waters across from Geralt. Even with the more than adequate amount of space, the pair drifted closer and helped clean the other. With delicate caresses and Jaskier's random comments the two were able to enjoy the relaxing steaming pool.

Of course as the bath cooled they had to get out and dry. Jaskier was out searching for his lute the moment he was dressed. Erwin of course on his heels, but Geralt busy visiting Roach. Dinner was on its way, and the servants were swamped preparing for new arrivals, the funeral, and attending their daily tasks.

"Jaskier, sir?" Erwin called from behind.

"Yes?" Jaskier replied absently.

"Dinner has been finished. It is time to gather the witcher and make your arrival."

"Oh, I see," Jaskier slowed. "Well then, now would be the best time to question that Count. Let's go get Geralt. If I know that man, and I most assuredly do, he's gotta be away from all these crowds. I will say I wasn't prepared for the attendance to be so prompt."

"Yes, when we came into the territory, the Count had word sent ahead so that the summon could be held sooner."

"Talk about organization. Anyways, where are your stables?"

"Follow me I'll show you."

Erwin quickly led the way into the stables. And to little surprise, Geralt was found with his mare. The witcher holding out an open palm with stolen sugars and some straws of hay. Roaching happily downing the small array of treats from her witcher.

"Isn't this a sight, Erwin?" Jaskier announced, watching Geralt's confused expression fall to the pair with a brief search for others. "Well aren't we lucky to see the witcher is not only a friend to humanity but horses as well."

"Bard," Geralt grumbled, glaring as he wiped his hands clean.

"It's time for dinner, witcher," Jaskier ignored the glare. "Come on, best not to keep the bastard waiting."

"Bastard?" Geralt smirked.

"Should I say more?"

"No," Geralt laughed.

"Then lets be on our way," Jaskier replied, motioning after Erwin.

Speedily they walked through the halls. Eventually Geralt took the lead, following the fresh scent of rare seasonings. Jaskier at his heels, with Erwin at his side.

Arriving at the grand banquet of many upper class. Geralt all but froze at the entrance, seemingly coming back to his senses. He glared into the room, occasionally sparing a glance to Jaskier who stiffened at his side. Following the bard gaze, he noticed a couple staring right back at them.

"Julian?" the brunette woman called, walking towards them.

"Mother," Jaskier readily approached her side without missing a beat. "It's been quite a while hasn't it?"

"You should have written more," she replied with an underlining waver in her voice.

"Shouldn't have left home, what he shoulda done," the man beside her growled. "That must be the famed mused? Filthy thing it is. Why have such a pet, Alfred?"

"Not Alfred," his wife chastised.

"No, it is. The name we gave him at his birth, all he'll ever be called by myself," he countered.

"This man is no such thing, Viscount," Jaskier snapped at the man as they bickered.

"Then tell me what is it?"

"He is a witcher. The White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. And much more than a mere muse, he is a dear friend," Jaskier stated.

"Well wolf, what you to say of that?" the man challenged.

"Hmm," Geralt didn't bother to give more.

"Illiterate? Or is it mute?"

"Huddson, stop this at once," his wife again scolded, reaching out to hold Jaskier's hands in her own. "We are not in confidence here, might I remind you."

"Now, Geralt was it? It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Our son has sung many praises of your many... skills," she tried to be pleasant, squeezing Jaskier's tanner hands and looked up at the man.

Coughing from behind, Erwin he gestured to the pair, "Master Bard, Sir Witcher your seats are elsewhere I'm afraid. Count Matidous requested no alterations to the arrangements already made."

"Oh, of course. We mustn't keep you, now can we? You're here on professional affairs?" she cut into, releasing Jaskier's hands and shifting them to her husband's arm. "I'm quite glad to see you, Jaskier. Sorry to keep you here for so long. Perhaps we can speak at a later time."

"Mother, I don't believe that's a good idea," Jaskier mumbled.

"He's right, Margaret. We'll have plenty of time later, now let them be," Huddson agreed, not at all addressing the pair.

Excusing themselves from the couple they followed Erwin across the table and nearer to Matidous. The Count glared down the table at the Viscount, paying no mind to the bard nor the witcher.

He started off on an unnecessary speech, before the food could be had. Jaskier brought to his attention the missing lute, but had little care for the matter.

"But we needn't focus on only the sorrow of my personal affairs," Matidous suddenly announced. "For tonight another family has been brought together even in such tragedy."

"I don't like this," Jaskier whispered.

"Should we leave?" Geralt lip quirked at the suggestion.

"And ruin my reputation," Jaskier sneered. "No. We don't leave until the job is done."

"Hmm," Geralt sighed, looking down at his plate stacked high with heavy meat and scratches. With a glass of wine off to the side, no other ale in sight. At the least nothing strong enough for his liking.

"Viscount of Lettenhove, his wife and one of his many heirs have attended our fine lands. A reunion of years apart. Perhaps in this time of mourn, something of greatness can be found," The Count proclaimed. "Now, a bard of great reverence shall perform for us tonight, Jaskier!"

"Oh how lovely," Jaskier grumbled. "It would be my honour to play for for all tonight-"

"And though your lute is in repairs, I have only the finest placeholder for its stead," Matidous continued. "Please, play of grandeur for us all to witness. And may my late wife be laid to rest to the symphony of her favored artisan."

"Yes, I suppose such wonders could be," Jaskier gently took the hand craved lute in hand. "My a splendid candidate this is."

"Play to your heart's content," The Count smirked.

"But of course," Jaskier strummed the lute, finding even out of tune it sounded astonishing.

But he was not going to play with an off note. He boldly took center stage as he tuned the heavy instrument. Listened carefully to each string and plucked several notes just to be sure. Finally, he began to play.