Finale

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Jaskier stayed at Kaer Morhen for the entire winter. He would pull Ciri away every time he thought he could get away with it. By the time the snow had begun to melt and shone the first signs of spring, the young girl had begun to understand how to string together chords to make a tune. She'd even learned how to pluck the strings and sing a melody without either being off key or too harsh. Jaskier prided himself in being a good teacher though Geralt had said it took away from her actual studies. 

Though Jaskier had avoided Geralt like he would give him the pox when he could. He silently wished to leave in hope of quelling the feeling that tore at his chest. Yet he couldn't bring himself to. Every time he considered packing his bags, he unfolded the letter from Yennefer. Quietly, he wished his memory would fade again so he wouldn't be faced with the wants but then he remembered the aching pain in his head that he had suffered. 

He thought tonight was no different. Jaskier looked down on the fields that had finally begun to turn green on the cusp of spring flourishing the continent. Lambert yelled at the blindfolded girl as she dodged the swinging pendulum. The troubadour crossed his arms over his chest and sighed; he didn't understand how they could be so harsh in teaching her things. Quietly, he reached into the inner pocket of his doublet and pulled out Yennefer's letter. He had read it so many times that the ink had begun to fade. His eyes passed down the page to the last paragraph; they always did.

If you find this before you leave for that busy town, don't. Geralt needs someone. As I told you in the tower, you have always been there for him. I admire you for it. I hope you don't think that you have to run from him in fear of losing him.
Please keep him safe, and sane.
Your friend Yennefer

The bard read the words that had kept him rooted in these castle walls for months. He couldn't deny she was right. Geralt had a way about him that left a bad impression on most people. It explained his lack of friends. Jaskier had even fallen victim to the attitude when he had been desperate enough to wish the Witcher from his mind intentionally. His eyes fell to the paper as he read the words again. 

"What's that?" Geralt's voice reverberated off the stone walls of the room. 

The bard jumped at the sudden sound before he turned to face the man. The letter crumpled slightly in his tight grip. He gave a forced laugh. Geralt only narrowed his eyes in confusion. 

"It's just a letter from a friend." Jaskier tried as Geralt stepped closer. 

"What friend?" Geralt reached for the paper.

"Yennefer." Jaskier folded the paper back up. Even having been months, he still caught a whiff of lilac and gooseberries. "She wrote it before she left." 

"May I see?" Geralt asked with an extended hand. 

"No." 

Jaskier gave an awkward smile. He didn't want the Witcher to see it and catch onto Yennefer's subtle notions of his feelings. Perhaps he had just imagined the subtext in her words, but he didn't want to risk it. Geralt had made his feelings all too clear at the maze. 

"Jaskier," Geralt grumbled, more annoyed than the bard expected.

"Why?" Jaskier asked quickly as he tucked the paper into his doublet. 

"Because I want to know what she wrote you. She did leave abruptly." 

"Oh, Geralt. Yennefer always leaves abruptly." Jaskier joked. 

The bard glanced over his shoulder when he finally heard Ciri laugh. The girl had run across the pegs blindfolded despite all three pendulums going. To Jaskier's surprise when he turned back around, he was damn near nose to nose with the Witcher. His breath caught as he looked into his cat-eyes. 

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