Siren's Call

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

                Geralt wildly tried to swing his sword, but was pinned down by the weight above him. He went to form Sana, the sound spell he'd meant to use against the frightener in the first place. A very calm part of his brain told him the frightener's sharpened front limbs would impale him before he had a chance to use it. Another part of his brain wondered what it would have been like to feel Jaskier's lips on his.

The bard. Jaskier needed to be safe. He couldn't keep him safe. He was too close. He was going to die. Both of them were. Geralt stared up into the insect like eyes of the frightener as its limb swooped down to impale him. He would face death with open eyes at least.

A sound split the night air, earsplittingly high and loud, akin to a scream if the thing making it had a throat made of iron. The frightener screamed too. It lurched off him and started stumbling around the desert, blindly groping for an end to the pain. Geralt shot up, the claws of the frightener had grazed his leg and side, but he ignored it. There was no time to think. He ran forward and jumped at the frightener, moving to chop at its head. The sound had stopped and the frightener seemed to recover a bit. He only got one good swing in before it whipped around and threw him off.

Another scream, and he knew what was making it. It was a siren's distress call. Although Melitile only knew why a siren would be out in the desert, he'd recognize it anywhere. A shadowy form to his left, but he could deal with the siren after he killed the frightener. They were relatively easy to kill. Geralt moved forward again, hacking and slashing at the frightener until it lay motionless.

He turned around, silver sword at the ready to deal with the anomaly of a siren.

There was only Jaskier, staring at him with a blank expression. Geralt moved towards him. "I thought I told you to stay with-"

Sudden movement behind him, and he was knocked down. He should have known better than to turn his back on a monster, even to deal with another one. Jaskier opened his mouth and screamed, the frightener moved off him and started thrashing around in the sand, and Geralt understood.

He killed it, for real this time and turned back around to face Jaskier. The bard stared at him, an unreadable cacophony of emotions flitting across his now slightly scaly face. Then he turned and ran. Geralt could hear his frantically beating heart as he gave chase, the sour scent of fear mixing in with the sweet scent Jaskier always wore. Well, that at least was explained now. He hadn't wanted Geralt to smell that he wasn't human.

Jaskier ran like a man running from his execution, feet slipping desperately in the sand as they dug for purchase. Geralt knew he was going to have to catch him before he got to the forest, or never at all. Once in the forest, with his wounds slowing him down, the bard would easily be able to lose him.

He put on a burst of speed, and tackled Jaskier to the ground. He struggled desperately, fighting to break out of Geralt's hold. Geralt bracketed him with his knees and threw an arm across his chest, keeping him down with his weight.

Abruptly Jaskier stopped his futile struggling and went very still, staring up at Geralt. He could hear his breathing as he rasped in and out, on the verge of panic. His face was back to that of a normal human, no more scales along the edges. With a shock, he realized Jaskier was crying.

"Geralt..." Jaskier's voice was little more than a whisper. "Geralt please, let me go, I've never hurt anyone I swear." His voice was choked off with a sob before he managed to shakily resume. "You'll never see me again, just please let me go."

Geralt was silent for a beat of his slow heart. He felt pain and remorse coiling up in the pit of his stomach from seeing Jaskier like this, but there were things he had to know. "What are you?"

Jaskier sniffed and closed his eyes, choking out. "I'm...I'm...the humans call me a siren, I think."

Geralt nodded. It was what he had thought. "Why were you traveling with me?" A thought struck him and his hand tightened on his sword. "Were you trying to scope me out? Find out my weaknesses? Or find out information about the other Witchers?" He'd known the bard couldn't possibly be travelling with him because he enjoyed his company, and the excuse that he wanted to write songs about him had been a poor one. He narrowed his eyes at Jaskier.

"No!" Jaskier said, his heart rate accelerating. "No I would never, I swear! Geralt I just wanted to travel with you to have adventures and songs to sing! That's all I wanted."

Distantly, Geralt realized it didn't matter if he believed Jaskier or not. It was too dangerous. He'd lied to him once, very successfully, he could do it again. The bard could be in league with any number of people or monsters. They could have just been manipulating him. Trying to get him to trust Jaskier only for him to turn on him. He glanced at the sword in his hand, then back to Jaskier.

He knew what he should do as a Witcher

But....Jaskier had saved his life. He hadn't had to, he could have let Geralt die. And Geralt remembered a thousand other times. Listening to the bard as he prattled on innocently about nothing and everything, the fierce defense he had mounted against the name of "Butcher". The light of a tavern as it caught a smiling pair of brilliantly blue eyes. A smile. A laugh. A joke. A song.

He couldn't kill Jaskier, and the thought filled him with sudden relief.

The man under him seemed to mistake his long silence for something else. He swallowed hard and looked up at him, face suddenly very calm, although still tear streaked. "I know what you have to do Geralt, just....be quick. Please." Jaskier tilted his head back in a gesture of surrender, giving Geralt easy access to his throat, and closed his eyes.

"No." Geralt slowly got off Jaskier and stood up, sword still in hand.

Jaskier looked up at him warily, frozen to the ground.

"Get up." Geralt's voice was hoarse, grating. He wanted nothing more than to take the bard into his arms and reassure him over and over again that it didn't matter what he was, he'd never hurt him. He hated himself for what he was about to do.

Jaskier slowly got to his feet, looking at him with something akin to hope in his eyes.

Geralt walked over to Roach and pulled out his money bag. He tossed it to Jaskier, who caught it automatically. "Go back to town. Buy a horse, and leave."

"Geralt. No. I don't..." Jaskier's voice was pleading. "I'm sorry. Don't make me leave you."

"I am showing you mercy. Understand that and leave." Geralt fought to keep his face neutral.

Jaskier said nothing more. He slowly trudged his way back along the path towards the town.

Geralt watched him for a few seconds, then went back to the frightener to loot its corpse for potion ingredients. He would need to give Jaskier a head start of at least a day. Then he would find a caravan to go across the desert with. The pain of losing Jaskier would pass, and this was the best path for both of them. He would keep telling himself that until he believed it.