Even in the darkness of his defeat, Jaskier strove for the light that Anne had brought him. Though the warmth of his fierce queen’s embrace offered comfort and a fleeting escape, it wasn’t enough to silence the shadows of his doubts. It could never be enough. He could never be enough. But Enya’s words— her vow— offered a measure of the peace that the brindle stallion sought. Enough to let him sink into the oblivion of slumber. Enough to stave off his desperation until the arrival of the next dawn, when his tired body would be stronger and ready to face whatever the future held. Enough to give him a sliver of hope, because while he had failed... while he had failed, Enya would not.

And she didn’t.

Parting with the golden mare was bittersweet, but no more difficult than the other trials he’d faced. Standing on the Lagoon’s shore, watching the Harbor’s queen herd guide the young bachelor home— Jaskier didn’t feel the anticipated weight of loneliness or longing. He only felt the aching void that Anne’s absence had left behind. He only felt desperate to find her, to protect her, even though he’d already failed her where it mattered most. But if the pintaloosa mare was condemned to be a prisoner here, then the very least that he could do would be to languish here beside her. It was a far cry from the something worthwhile he’d promised her, but sharing in her misery was still something. And in the wake of his failure, it seemed the only thing that the striped buckskin was capable of offering at all.

Golden sun yielded to grey twilight in both his surroundings and his thoughts as the stallion turned from the beach and began to press inland. Like Atlantis’s jungle, the Lagoon’s thicket was an impenetrable wall of green; a collection of life so dense that it overflowed from the soil’s every orifice. And where ferns and low-hanging lianas didn’t emerge victorious over the bare brown of earth or trunk, darkness did. Darkness and silence reigned beneath the trees with cathedral stillness, broken only by the dirge of the wind and the discordant rhythm of Jaskier’s breaths. He paused frequently to get his bearings, following the faint scent that wound into the Lagoon’s heart and the wistful yearning of his own— but he never truly stopped. Not until he found her.

By that time, the sun had passed its vigil on to the moon’s silver eye, and the world was no more than dim silhouettes carved in the likeness of the creatures they were meant to reveal. But it was Anne dozing in peaceful repose ahead, her chin tucked tightly against the arch of her neck. Without seeing the ashen color of her coat or the warm amber of her eyes, he knew it was. And Jaskier knew, as well, that he couldn’t go to her. That he would watch her from afar, like the stars overhead— hungry to bridge the infinitesimal space that divided them, but afraid to fall into her embrace lest she step aside and watch him drift into the void that lay beyond.

For nights beyond counting and days beyond reason, the stallion stayed hidden and stayed near, a guardian angel spun of doubts and regrets.

Then he came, and the delicate balance of their world was cast into uncertainty.

What would you say if I was here to set you free? Jaskier rose from the depths of his thoughts with startling abruptness, tilting his head toward the source of that deep, rumbling voice. In the blackness of night, he could only distinguish a shadow that loomed tall and broad in front of the shorter silhouette that was Anne. And a scent that was irrevocably tied to the brief purgatory he’d spent here only a year ago. Tyr. The brindle’s heart crept into his throat, and he stepped forward without conscious thought. News of his son’s captivity was certain to have reached the Lagoon’s general by now, and Jaskier could not place his trust in the saccharine sweetness of the bachelor’s words.

He wouldn’t let Anne face the sentence for his crimes. He couldn’t.

The soft music of the roan woman’s voice filled his ears as Jaskier emerged from the forest, his bright coat spattered with darker splotches of dirt. I would say that you are a few weeks late - but I would not be opposed to leaving. “And I would say that if he meant to set you free, then he would come to you with an offer and not a question.” Pointing himself towards the larger of the two shapes, the buckskin faced Tyr fiercely, fearlessly. “But your men— they are fans of a fair exchange, are they not? We’ve traded blow for blow. Blood for blood. Perhaps it’s time that we set our differences aside and make only the choices that benefit us both.”

Jaskier inhaled deeply, basking in the wholeness that he felt just for being near Anne. Then exhaled, and continued. “Your son for my beloved, Tyr. And if the bachelors are capable of letting the past go, then perhaps I can see fit to trust them with my future. With my firstborn son— and a second who might arrive come spring. They could learn much from the strength you've shown, just as I have.” It was hard not to run to Anne’s side in the wake of these words. To stand his ground and cling to the remnants of his crumbling willpower. But for her sake— for her future— he had to.

She’d given him something worthwhile, and in exchange— in exchange, Jaskier could offer her no less than everything that he was.