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Episode 4
The girl had said she worked Wednesdays and Saturdays, so Tuesday should be safe. He had to practically restrain himself not to be there the second they opened, which would surely seem odd—the place wasn’t that popular—and instead arrived shortly after lunch, wandering in doing his best to look like any casual shopper.
It was Elihal himself who was manning the counter. The elf broke into a brilliant smile as he came forward to greet Jaskier. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon. I hope there wasn’t a problem with any of the clothes.”
“Uhm… I…” Jaskier stammered as the world seemed to tilt for a moment. He blinked.
He had been here yesterday, he suddenly realised. He had talked to Elihal and bought some very nice, not too expensive clothes.
He’d forgotten that completely. How could he have forgotten something like that?
He realised that Elihal was looking at him expectantly with just the tiniest hint of concern.
Jaskier ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. “No… it… I just couldn’t stop thinking about that purple shirt, the one with the flowers.”
“Of course!” Elihal’s smile was back as he gestured for Jaskier to follow him to the counter. “Do you want to try it again or…?”
“Oh no,” Jaskier said quickly, wanting to get out of the shop and find a place where he could panic in peace. “I already know how it looks on me.” He fumbled for his card.
“I was surprised you didn’t get it yesterday,” Elihal chatted as he got the shirt in question and began ringing it up. “It really is a perfect colour on you, and the playfulness of the stitching matches your personality.”
“Yes, thank you.” Jaskier snapped and snatched the offered bag from the elf’s hand.
As he almost ran for the door, he heard Elihal call out: “Any time!” but didn’t pause to acknowledge it.
He made it just around the side of the small building before he had to lean against the wall to keep himself from falling over.
What was going on? Why had he forgotten he’d already gone here yesterday? Why couldn’t he remember last night?
Jaskier had a vague memory of returning to his flat with his purchases and lying down for a nap.
Could he possibly have slept through the rest of the day and the whole night? Was he maybe getting sick?
That might explain the temporary lapse in memory, but… He didn’t feel sick. Just confused. Very confused.
Sure, he’d experienced holes in his memory before, but they had all exclusively been in connection with getting shitfaced with his friends. He’d woken up in strange beds, on park benches and on one memorable occasion on the deck of a boat about to set sail for Skellige. The crew had been torn between outrage that he’d managed to sneak on board and bemusement with his frantic scramble to get back on land.
He would usually be able to piece together most of what he’d forgotten and his only regrets had been not remembering what must surely have been great lays.
But this time was different. Very different.
First of all, he was sure he had not had anything to drink yesterday. At least not prior to returning to his flat in the late afternoon. And even if he’d gone on to drink in the evening, alcohol had never made him forget what had happened before he imbibed.
Secondly, he had not been with any of his friends, who could fill in the gaps for him. At least he didn’t think he had.
He had his phone out of his pocket, thumb hovering over Priscilla’s number before he thought better of it. What was he going to say? ‘Hey, did we happen to hang out yesterday?’ What kind of question was that? She’d think he had completely lost it and then badger him for the whole story. Which he couldn’t really share because he didn’t remember anything.
Though that wasn’t entirely true. He did remember going to Elihal’s shop. And he also remembered why!
The mysterious stranger who apparently kept Novigrad safe from monsters and who’d left something behind in his flat which had then disappeared, as had the man asking for him that evening…
Jaskier groaned at the realisation that the hours missing from yesterday could only be connected to this man and his search for him.
But how? What had happened? And what had made Jaskier forget it?
Some kind of trauma? Had a monster attacked him and he’d hit his head? But no. If he’d experienced head trauma severe enough to cause memory loss, surely he’d still be feeling it. Wouldn’t he? Same with drugs. He supposed.
Was that even a thing? He’d seen drugs used to make people forget stuff in shows and films, but not the kind that seemed too fussed with being realistic, so that was probably just a convenient tool for lazy writers.
Hypnosis then? Or was that the same as the drugs?
He honestly didn’t know enough about it to determine whether it was possible or not.
He realised that he was starting to get strange looks from the people passing by and, taking a couple of deep breaths to steady himself, pushed off from the wall and walked back onto the small street running along the bank.
The bank? The man had been asking questions about seeing things by the bank. Elihal had told him that he’d seen a man of that description walking there in the evenings. Jaskier had wanted to check it out but gone home first to rest.
He must have returned last night.
He almost dropped his phone as he fumbled to get it unlocked. Essi had bullied him into installing some stupid fitness app a couple of months back and he’d never bothered getting rid of it. But was it still active?
He had to search for it, having forgotten what folder he’d hidden it away in and then had to research his password having no idea what silliness he had come up with back then.
Rather than risk stumbling over his feet or walking into somebody, he opted to take a seat outside a small café, ordering a cup of tea from the smiling young halfling who came up to take his order.
Jaskier let out a triumphant cry, then apologised to the women at the table next to him. The app was still tracking his ‘exercise’ which meant that he quickly confirmed that he’d done a lot of walking yesterday. Most of it in the hours after he’d been home, which meant he had indeed gone out again. The app couldn’t confirm that he’d returned to Far Corners, but it had been his plan, so it seemed very likely.
His tea arrived and while he was sipping it, he looked around, trying to see if anything could jog his memory further. The café was right across the street from the river but the stone bank was so high here that he couldn’t see the water, only the massive wall rising high above it on the other side.
It was an impressive thing. And very, very old.
How had they even built something this size back then?
He let his eyes slide over the big square stones, wondering how they’d been cut so precisely and then raised so high above the ground.
He’d done the wall-walk with some friends back when he was new to the city. There’d been a guide with them droning on and on about the history and properties of the wall, but Jaskier had been too focused on enjoying the view and flirting with a cute Zerrikanian boy to pay attention back then.
As his eyes reached the top of the wall, he had to squint and use a hand to shield them from the sun’s glare.
It took him a moment, then he frowned. Was someone standing up there? That couldn’t be right. The walkway he’d been on was on the inside only occasionally high enough to allow a view over the side. But this person seemed to be standing on the very top of the wall. Right on the edge.
Jaskier felt cold dread wash over him. If they fell or… jumped… The water was so very far down. Would it be enough to break the fall or…?
Should he tell somebody? Call for help?
Before he could gather his thoughts, the person did jump. But not into the murky waters of the river. Jaskier desperately hoped that the walkway was high up in this particular place. That they were safe.
The unexpected sight, and temporary scare, had distracted him sufficiently that he managed to finish his tea and make it halfway home before his mind again turned to the Mystery of the Sexy Man and the Missing Hours.
By the time he had made it home, showered and changed into his new purple shirt, he was nowhere nearer to an answer to all his questions.
He had to work tonight, since Zoltan was meeting with one of their suppliers down in Oxenfurt. Luckily Tuesdays weren’t exactly busy and he’d be closing up at 11. But still, it wouldn’t do to be distracted when it was only him and the young elf they’d hired to clear tables and keep the dishwasher running. He’d had to keep an eye on the door and if anyone got rowdy it would be up to Jaskier’s charisma instead of Zoltan’s muscle to calm things down. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem. After all, what could happen on a Tuesday?
So little, in fact, that he sent the elf, Dara, home shortly after 9, promising him that he would still get full pay and his share of the tips, but he really wasn’t needed. Half an hour later, Jaskier was considering if he could get away with closing early when the door opened and a group of men came in.
A group of rather interesting men.
Two of them were tall with broad shoulders and, if he wasn’t mistaken, rather bulging arms hidden underneath their dark jackets. One of them was dark and bald with a neatly trimmed beard, the other looked kind of wild with his mane of curly red hair and full beard to match. The third man, whom Jaskier couldn’t see at first because he almost disappeared behind the other two, was different. Though only slightly shorter than his friends, he appeared tiny in comparison with his thinner frame. Like, his waist seemed to be about the width of the redhead’s thigh. He had long dark hair that at first obscured his face, but he tossed it back as they approached the bar and Jaskier had to put down the glass he had been wiping, for lack of anything else to do with his hands.
The man was… gorgeous! Like he could probably be a model. Or an actor. Oh, maybe he was and the two giants were his bodyguards. Except they didn’t really act like it. In fact they were behaving like a couple of silly schoolboys, laughing and shoving at each other while Jaskier just stood there, gaping at them.
The gorgeous one pushed his way past the other two and, leaning one arm on the bar, flashed Jaskier a smile that left him breathless.
“You must excuse my friends,” he said with an unplaceable but very charming accent. “They were raised by wolves.” The dark one scoffed at this, the redhead let out a playful growl.
“It… It’s fine,” Jaskier began, then pulled himself together. “They’d fit right in on a regular Friday night here.”
“Then we must remember to come back.” The man winked at Jaskier. He had the most amazing eyes. So dark they were almost black, rimmed by the thickest, longest lashes Jaskier had ever seen on a human.
Jaskier’s eyes flicked of their own volition to the side to check the man’s left ear, still partially hidden by his long hair.
The stranger laughed and Jaskier dearly hoped the light was dim enough to hide his blush.
“Part elf,” the man said, pushing the hair back to show the only slightly pointed ear.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply…” Jaskier began, but was stopped before he could go on.
“I take no offence. Rather I see it as a compliment. As a sign that you find me… pleasing?”
Jaskier could have died right then and there. In fact, he wished he had when, after a few seconds of awkward silence, the other two men broke down in fits of roaring laughter.
“Boys, behave,” the half-elf said, turning to them and making shooing motions with his hands. “Go sit down. I’ll bring the drinks.”
Still wheezing with laughter, leaning on each other, the two made their way to a table near the door. Jaskier did his best not to notice how very tight their jeans were.
“Aiden.”
Jaskier returned his focus to the man in front of him. “Excuse me?”
“My name is Aiden.” He offered a hand which Jaskier hesitantly shook. “And you must be Jaskier, right?”
“Yes, I… How did you…?”
Aiden held his hand a moment longer, running his thumb over his knuckles before letting go. “A friend told us about this place. Said you have some of the best beer in Novigrad. So what would you recommend?”
“I… I guess it depends on what you like,” Jaskier slipped into his role, which did help him calm down, or at least act like less of a drooling idiot. “We have a stout that’s very popular, but if you would prefer something lighter…”
“The stout will be perfect.” Aiden winked again. “Three of those.” He pulled a couple of bills out of his pocket and then, to Jaskier’s horror, leaned over the bar and stuffed them into Jaskier’s breast pocket. “Keep the change.” He patted Jaskier’s cheek and then whirled around, prancing (there was no other word for it) over to the table to join his friends.
Jaskier managed to serve the drinks without spilling anything and, hopefully, staring too much. He then quickly retreated behind the relative safety of the bar and busied himself with putting things away so he would be ready to close as soon as the men left.
He was totally not trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. They were just being so loud he couldn’t help catching a remark now and then.
He was pretty sure the dark man was called Corey or Colin. He didn’t catch a name for the redhead but it sounded like Aiden called him Lamb Chops. Jaskier must have misheard.
Apparently they all worked together, because he kept hearing something about ‘the office’ and various ‘projects’. And a lot of mentions of ‘the boss’ and his ‘business’.
Jaskier kept his eyes down, but every now and then he still caught a glimpse of them as he moved about. And every single time, one of them would be watching him intently. Whenever Aiden caught his eyes, he’d wink. The other two just looked at him.
Jaskier didn’t know whether to feel flattered or threatened.
Then, just as he had begun working up the nerve to go tell the men that it was time to close up, they all got to their feet. Though Jaskier did feel a tiny hint of regret, he was mostly overcome by a sense of relief. The three might be nice to look at, but there was something distinctly unnerving about them. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
He made a sort of polite wave in their direction and then moved over to pick up the key so that he could lock up after them. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a movement and turned just in time to see the redhead ‘Lamb’ place a soft, lingering kiss on Aiden’s lips.
Oh well, probably for the best.
Except Aiden didn’t leave with the others. As they headed for the door, he turned to Jaskier and, his brilliant smile becoming distinctly mischievous, approached him slowly.
“So…” he said in a voice so soft it was almost a purr. “I believe you have a room upstairs with a very nice bed.”
“Uhm… I… Yes…” Jaskier managed, feeling his last remnant of sanity being sucked into the shimmering voids that were Aiden’s eyes.