And yet... Here we are

Impasse

"It won't work, Geralt." Yennefer warned. She sat at the table across the Witchers. Jaskier stood; he dared not get closer than he needed to the others. "Reversing a memory spell is far different from reversing a physical injury caused from a spell."

"It cannot be that different." Geralt tried.

"Don't you dare try to site the difference of magic to me, Geralt," Yennefer snapped.

"Watch your tone with us, witch." Lambert said.

"I'm not a witch. I am a sorceress." Yennefer countered.

"Same thing," Lambert said.

"Let's focus on the topic at hand." Vesemir reminded.

"Yes, lets." Yennefer said through gritted teeth. "There is no way to reverse the Maride's spell safely." She held up her hand when Geralt moved to speak. "One of two things will happen. Either no amount of magic will undo the spell, or I will be able to reverse it and Jaskier will be in excruciating pain because of it."

"How much pain?" Geralt asked after a minute.

"The headache he had on the ground in Skellege won't even hold a candle to it."

"Can you heal him of the pain afterwards?" Geralt questioned.

Yennefer smiled sadly and shook her head. "Assuming the shock of the pain doesn't kill him, I would still be far too weakened to put him in a healing spell. I would need time to recover. But by the time I had recovered he would have been writhing in pain for so long I'm not sure he would survive."

They sat in silence when Yennefer finished her sentence. Helplessly, Geralt looked between the sorceress and the Witchers. He didn't look at Jaskier.

The bard felt his stomach turn. He felt as though he was going to vomit. His face had paled. Jaskier didn't even think to excuse himself before he walked away from the room. To his ears, his footsteps were silent as he traversed the stairs of the tower, but he was sure the mutants could hear his every step; they could probably hear his rushed heart and his uneven breath.

Jaskier stepped into the room Geralt had led him to a week ago now. He had hardly left it. Slowly, he walked to the window. Pulling back the dying curtains, he looked out the glass. Why was his getting his memory back so important? He didn't even know why he had wished to get rid of it in the first place.

He paused when he heard the click of shoes enter the room. Slowly, he turned. Confusedly, he smiled at the woman standing before him.

"Are you alright?" Yennefer asked.

"I'm not sure." Jaskier admitted after a moment. He walked to the bed and sat. Yennefer joined him.

"Geralt just wants your memory back. I think he wants his friend, as he remembers him." Yennefer tried to explain.

"I don't understand it." Jaskier shook his head, "why is me going back to how I was so important?"

"I've never told you this," Yen paused before she gave a soft chuckle, "I suppose even if I had, you wouldn't remember it by now."

Jaskier offered a dry laugh.

"You were always there for Geralt." Yennefer continued, "at times I was jealous of your loyalty to him. No matter the task at hand, you went with him."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I was always grateful you never let him suffer alone in his secluded lifestyle. I think Geralt just misses that connection."

"Why are you telling me this?" Jaskier asked.

"In truth, I don't know." Yen shook her head. A smile grew on her red-painted lips. "I used to despise you. You were an egregiously annoying bard... I miss when an annoying bard was my only problem with life."