Issue No 53: Breakdown - Prison Blues
Completed: 2022-08-03; Words: 32,676; Chapters: 14/14
Summary: While sitting around the campfire with his companions, Jaskier sings one of his favourite songs. Which elicits a very unexpected reaction from one of the more recent additions to the company. Jaskier can be such an idiot sometimes. The good thing is - he knows and is ready to apologise. However, things are much worse than he anticipated and a quick sorry nowhere near enough.
From Prison Blues Chapter 14:
"They put you in prison and tortured you because you lied? For a friend?" Jaskier has to repeat what he has just heard, not because something is wrong with his ears but because he can hardly believe the auditory perception that his far more than averagely developed auditory cortex has created based on the incoming signals from his very sensitive hearing organs. Soldiers go to prison for high treason or desertion, sure, but for this? This is ridiculous. At least in Jaskier's humble opinion. Which he definitely does not intend to keep to himself.
"I lie for my friends all the time. That's what friends are for, right?" he continues when Cahir does not react to his question. "Maybe not to an emperor, but that's just because I have never met one. At least not as far as I know, lucky me." Jaskier pauses for a moment. Perhaps Cahir would say something now, tell him more about what happened? Or, more likely, tell him to fuck off again? But no such luck. Jaskier is not even sure if Cahir has heard him at all in his agitated state.
"I mean, if you aren't ready to lie for your friends, they cannot possibly be real friends," he continues to fill the eerie silence, "at least not very good ones, can they? Or, come to think of it, maybe you aren't a good friend to them? Or both? Perhaps you are no friends at all but just casual acquaintances? You wouldn't lie for a casual acquaintance, would you now? At least not to an emperor, I guess, not really."
Jaskier pauses again. Still no reaction, if you don't count that Cahir is shaking worse than ever, his breath coming in ragged hitches now. It's a bloody miracle he is still standing upright. What on earth did they do to him? To elicit such a response to a simple song from a fierce warrior like Cahir? This is so totally wrong.
"Sorry, I'm rambling - again. What I actually want to say is -" Having no clue what it is he actually wants to say, he stops in mid-sentence. Jaskier has plenty of experience with all kinds of human drama, but this? He feels completely out of his depth. What the heck can he do? - Right, improvise, that's what he is best at.
"Oh, fuck it. Come here."
With those words, Jaskier quickly walks up to his trembling comrade and embraces him in a tight hug. A sudden shiver runs through the knight's body and he tenses for a split second, but then, to Jaskier's relief, he lets go of the tree and, drawing a shuddering breath, leans into the embrace, his body going limp.
"We are your friends, you know that, right?" Jaskier says softly while he is holding the shivering Cahir tight. "Maybe not Geralt yet, but he'll come around. You'll see. No worries. You are safe among friends, I promise."
When they met more than two years ago in Oxenfurt, Jaskier had, at least at first, been pretty scared of the tall, wild-looking stranger who, at that time, resembled far more a dangerous brigand or highwayman than a knight. Who would have thought that, one day, he would hug and try to comfort this very same man - minus the bushy beard and sewer stench. Definitely not he. Jaskier can still hardly believe he is doing just that.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
"Better?" Jaskier asks when, after long minutes, the heart-wrenching sobs are finally petering out. Cahir is still trembling a little, but a lot less so than before and his breathing is mostly back to normal, too. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he nods faintly. Jaskier loosens the tight, now somewhat awkward embrace and Cahir sits back against the tree trunk, utterly drained.
"Sorry I'm such a mess," he murmurs, his eyes closed. He must look a mess, too. Luckily, it is almost dark now, too dark for anyone to see his reddened, puffy eyes nor his face blushing with embarrassment.
"It's okay to be a mess once in a while. It's not your fault." Jaskier sits down next to Cahir and takes his hand in his own. Maybe it is silly to hold hands with the man, he is a knight after all, but he looks so heartbreakingly lost that Jaskier does not under any circumstances want him to feel alone. And have another panic attack or mental breakdown or whatever this was. Cahir does not flinch back or withdraw his hand which Jaskier interprets as a good sign. A sign that he trusts the bard.
"I - I shouldn't have lied," he then whispers hoarsely, voice thick from crying.
"That's rubbish," Jaskier says emphatically. Cahir cannot truly believe he deserved whatever they did to him, can he? That it is all his own fault? "You did it for your friend. That's what friends do. There's nothing wrong with it. End of story. And you definitely shouldn't go to prison for it, or be tortured."
At the mention of torture, Cahir swallows hard. And sniffles.
"Here," Jaskier fishes a handkerchief from his trouser pockets, a very frilly one made of fine silk in exactly the same colour as the bard's long leather jacket, and presses it into Cahir's free hand. If he wasn't so out of sorts, Cahir would certainly comment on the flamboyant piece of fabric, or at least roll his eyes, but as it is, he barely seems to notice. "Blow your nose. You are all covered in snot. And you're bleeding. Let me have a look. That was a stupid thing to do. I mean banging your head against a tree. There's a big fat lump on your forehead already. It must have hurt, too."
Jaskier grabs the frilly fabric again before Cahir can do as told with it and dabs it at the sluggishly bleeding gash right in the middle of Cahir's brow. Now, Cahir does flinch back. And hisses with pain.
"Darn, I'm sorry, Cahir. I didn't want to hurt you. But why on earth did you do that?"
