Chapter Text
Jaskier sniffled. His nose was oddly runny today, more than usual for the cold. Yes, it was snowy out but he was wearing the right amount of clothing to keep him nice and warm. He decided to pass it off as 'dust in the air.' Hah. What a fool.
He decides to pull out his lute, plucking at the strings. Jaskier had been trying to figure out a new song about his and Geralt's most recent adventure. The flowers glimmers in their blood? No. Too.. too.
"My feet were aching.." He begins, but trails off.
Why was this so hard all of a sudden? He could usually come up with pretty decent lyrics in a heartbeat. Although today felt.. different. Like his brain was full of fog and nothing else.
He looks down at his lute, plucking at the strings again.
"Screaming, the aching,
Their blood and their cries.
Bright.. days.. ahead.. of us.
Screaming, the aching-"
He is interrupted with a tickle in the back of us throat. As to not make his voice crack mid song, he stops. Having tickles in the back of his throat was normal, it usually happened when he sang and hadn't gotten enough warming up in. But he had been warming up for a bit over an hour? Huh. Jaskier shrugs it off. He coughs, then clears his throat.
Suddenly, he feels hot. As if they weren't in the freezing cold. He tugs at his collar, hoping to get some cold air down his front to cool him. It helped for a little length of time but not for long. He feels a cold sweat roll down his neck all the way to down his spine.
He shivers.
He so badly wanted to get up on Roach with Geralt but he knew if he even glanced at her Geralt would just look at him with.. 'his look' and it would just turn out to be awfully awkward.
He looked ahead, the sun was sinking away down into the mountains. The sky was filled with oranges, yellows, pinks, reds, purples, and of course, blues.
He watched the sun set, admiring how the colors changed from warm, vibrant colors to dark, majestic blues and then.. darkness.
.Geralt pulled out a lantern from a side pocket on Roach.
"Fancy.. when d'ya get that?" Jasker turns around, walking backwards now. He looks into the Witchers bright, cat like, yellow eyes.
Geralt meets his gaze for a minute, then looks back ahead.
"Right.." Jaskier says.
They were a couple hours away from the nearest town, and Jaskier was beginning to feel like hell. If he had turned around to speak to Geralt, he would be revealing dark purple eye bags, his glazed over eyes with a touch of pink around the edges, crusty, dry lips, the sweat droplets glimmering on his forehead and his dark hair matted to his forehead. Not to mention how terrible he felt. His stomach was turning, practically doing cartwheels, with every step he took. He felt so hot it was almost unbearable. His throat didn't even feel like a throat anymore, it felt like rough rocks rubbing against each other. He had to breath out of his mouth now because of how congested his nose was. He felt weak all over.
He groans.
"Geeraaallltttt, can we stop and take shelter here? We're miles away from the nearest town." Jaskier tried to keep the whine out of his voice, failing.
"No." He grunts.
Jaskier sighs dramatically.
"I get it, you're tired. We all are, right Roach?"
Roach neighs.
"No- it's not that I'm tired.. well.. I am- but, I feel terrible."
"Look, you can rest when we get to the inn. For now, suck it up."
Geralt tends tends to forget how much more fragile humans are than Witchers. Despite how awful he felt, Jaskier didn't have the heart to argue back, that and he felt to weak to start an argument with Geralt right now.
He swallows.
"Do ya have any water?" He asks Geralt, desperate for something to soothe his throat.
"Yes.. but it's for Roach."
Great. Anything makes 'Roach.' Might as well be marked 'Do not touch.' No matter how badly he wanted it.
They are at the top of a hill, in the distance, Jaskier can see lights of a town. He has some hope to keep him going.
Jaskier exhales, clutching both arms around his stomach. The bard presses his lips against each other. He is practically willing himself to not throw up.
He doesn't even realize it, but he has fallen behind Geralt instead of being in front of him.
Oh, screw it.
"Geralt? Could I.. perhaps.. join you on Roach?-"
"No." He responds quickly.
He tries to avoid begging or even asking again.
"Pleeeaaaseee? I'll be gentle with her and I won't even touch you."
Geralt turns his head slowly, just enough to look at Jaskier in the eyes.
He doesn't even have to say anything but Jaskier gets the gesture.
Oh well. Guess I'll just have to tough it out. Jaskier thinks to himself.
That's when it gets bad, to a point where Jaskier doesn't think he can handle it anymore, he slows to a stop.
"Geralt.. Can we please stop?"
Geralt detects the sudden stop in the snow and the desperation in Jaskier's voice, normally he would just ignore it and continue but he halts Roach, turning her around to face Jaskier. Usually that would be intimidating to Jaskier but at this point he really didn't care.
Geralt's face softens for the smallest of a second when he see's the bards face, his eye bags, his glazed over eyes, the sweat, everything.
"I feel bad. I feel terrible. Can I at least hop up on Roach with you?"
Geralt actually considers for a moment. On the one hand, it would shut the bard up. On the other, he would be touching Roach.. possibly even slowing her down. He decides.
"10 minutes break."
Jaskier has visible relief washed over his face. It may not be much, but to him it was definitely something.
~
Geralt used this time to check inventory on all of Roach's side pockets, he sharpened his swords in the last 5 minutes.
Jaskier could hear rushing water not too far from where they were, so he told Geralt he was going to go check it out.
Once he made it to the source, he could see that it was a small stream. He decided to fill up a flask with the water.
He was about to leave when he thought of an idea, he stopped. He cups his hands then dips them into the stream. The bard washes his face. It was relieving, actually. The cold water made him feel less hot and he knew that the wind would keep his face cool for hopefully the rest of their journey.
After he was finished, he turns back. It had probably been 10 minutes by now.
Geralt was feeding Roach food and giving her water to drink by the time Jaskier got back.
"Ready?" Geralt asks.
"Yea, I suppose. Ready as I'll ever be."
Geralt grunts in response, getting on top of Roach.
Jaskier trudged in the snow next to Geralt and Roach.
He could do this. The bard thought. He had to do this. If he didn't keep up the pace and make it to the inn, he feared he would collapse in the snow right then and there. He feared that Geralt would just ignore him or not even notice him and continue on. He feared that he would be left there in a pile of snow awaiting for frostbite or an animal to claim him straight to his death. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind of all the thoughts.
Onward. That's all you have to do. One foot in front of the other.