If life could give me one blessing...

The Collector - part 1

"What the hell happened?" asked Eskel, as he sat down on the balcony next to Geralt. His brother smelled of absolute misery and guilt, which meant, that the bard must be badly hurt, but Eskel would expect that Geralt would be at his side then, not brooding over the keep in the cold night.

"I fucked up Eskel. I really did," Geralt sighs, laying his head against his knees. His fists were tight with white knuckles sporting some red from when the witcher tried punching some walls. Eskel was silent. He knew, that if Geralt wanted to talk, he would in his own time. So Eskel just sat as comfortably as he could on the cold stone and let his feet dangle down from the balcony, while he looked up at the stars.

"I don't fucking know what to do now. I knew I was wrong the moment I said it. But I was just so mad? I wanted to turn around and apologize to him, but at the same time I felt so angry at myself for everything that happened, that I just couldn't see him," Geralt pushed through gritted teeth, head still down.

"I just couldn't turn around and say – Okay, sorry, I fucked up my own life and seeing you so happy and carefree next to my side all the time just pisses me off and I kinda wanted to see you hurting as well. So I acted like a total asshole and left him there," Geralt groaned and slid his hands into his tangled hair to pull at it. Eskel felt something unpleasant curling up in his insides when he thought of the big-eyed, innocent bubbly bard being left alone somewhere after his brother poured out his anger at him once again.

"Go and apologize, you dumbass. Tell him that you were wrong. From what I gathered, he always knew you were a grumpy ass. It's been two years, hasn't it? He sure would've cooled down by now. And he came all the way here," Eskel tried to bring some light into the debate, but Geralt shook his head.

"I don't know if I can fix it, Esk. I don't know. And I don't even know him at all. I felt like I knew all there is to know about him, but you know what? Even Vesemir knows more than I," the witcher lifted his head up and there were dried tear streaks under his eyes.

"Vesemir?" Eskel furrowed his brows. How the hell would the old master know Geralt's bard?

"Apparently, in the twenty fucking years, I didn't notice once, that Jaskier in fact isn't human at all, but a fucking unicorn. Unicorn!" Geralt tilted his head back, a nasty broken sound leaving his lips. Eskel blinked. Well, that was a rather unexpected turn of events. Last time he remembered those were four-legged and had horns. They didn't sing and walk around in colorful garments.

"But aren't unicorns immortal?" he asked, trying to search his mind for something he read about those elusive beings. Unicorns weren't exactly monsters and witchers didn't really have much to say about them except that they lived in herds in their forests, and were immortal, white, and pure of heart. But Geralt looked too broken. Too guilty for it to be that simple. There were goosebumps on Eskel's arms when Geralt turned at him again, face desperate like he was looking for an answer Eskel couldn't give him.

"Apparently, they die of broken hearts. I killed him Esk," said Geralt, and Eskel's breath hitched. That did not look good. That did not look good at all.