And yet... Here we are

"Yen..."

The night was dark. No one could begin to see anything past their own hands in front of their face. The party raged inside the walls of the castle. The candles tried desperately to light any sort of pathway out into the shrubs of the outside garden. Even still, it was no use.

Jaskier had made his way outside. No matter what he tried, none of the women were giving him any time of day. It didn't seem normal. Usually, the women fawned over him. However, since he had chosen to clear his friends name through song, the women fawned over the Witcher now.

"Jaskier?" Geralt's voice was the same gruff tone it had always been. It was like the sound of leather rubbing against itself. He sat down beside his friend and looked over at the bard.

"What could you possibly want Witcher?"

Geralt huffed under his breath. Jaskier only called him 'Witcher' when he was upset. He looked over at the man who sat next to him. He rolled his eyes. The bard was always so dramatic.

"What is it now?" Geralt turned his eyes to face the darkness. However, unlike the poet, he could see; one of the few perks of being a Witcher.

"You steal all the women." Jaskier crossed his arms over his chest as a piercing wind blew. "I give you a few songs to paint you as a good person. What do you do with this kind gesture? You steal all the women from me! How do you expect me to survive under these conditions? It'll kill me."

A "hmmm" was all Geralt gave to Jaskier's comments. He couldn't stop a faint upturn of his lips in response to the self-centered words.

"That's all you give me? A 'hmmm'?" Jaskier scoffed and stood. He paused on his feet before he turned back to face the Witcher. The candlelight illuminated the strong features of the white wolf. It only made the bard angrier.

"You're staring." Geralt grumbled.

"I am." Jaskier agreed. "I'm trying to understand how I helped a man like you redefine his identity. I helped rewrite history for you. How do you repay me? Disappearing throughout the night to hook up with different women."

"You're jealous?" Geralt raised an eyebrow. There had been women staring at Jaskier all night. Why had Jaskier been focused on him instead of those women?

"Yes, I'm jealous. Why are you getting so much attention?"

"I am the hero of the tales you tell."

"You're the Butcher, not a Hero."

Jaskier said the words before he even realized what he had said. He didn't need light to know what Geralt's face was sure to look like. Truthfully, the bard was shocked he hadn't been hit yet.

"Geralt." Jaskier dismissed. He walked away from the white-haired wolf.

Jaskier walked into the maze on the property. He begged his eyes silently to see. His hand dragged along the shrubs. The foliage cut his palm as he tried to use it to guide his path. It wasn't until he was nearly at the center of the maze that he realized he may have been lost.

The bard sank down to sit on the damp ground. He couldn't believe he had actually called his friend the one name that had always hurt him the most. And just because he was jealous? It didn't make any sense. Jaskier looked up at the stars. With the lack of a moon, they seemed to burn brighter than ever. It was merely a shame they weren't bright enough to get him out of this damned maze.

Jaskier fell backwards onto the hard ground. The grass crawled up around his red and gold clothing. He reached up towards the stars. The bard opened his palm as though he would be able to grab the orbs and hold them as his own.