Chapter Text
Things were not going as well as Jaskier would like.
It seemed like re-arranging the broken pieces of his heart would be a harder endeavor than he expected. He would have thought that two weeks on the road to Oxenfurt would have fixed it more. But his writers block was going strong and he couldn´t bring himself to sing “Toss a coin” if he didn´t have too. That song always left him feeling empty afterwards.
He noticed that in the first Tavern he came to after he had two more breakdowns and had left the Kestrel Mountains behind.
Now he didn´t think Barefield would have any kind of big city (he hadn´t been to Barefield before either, so he didn´t know the best spots) but Jaskier was pleasantly surprised by the Inn he found in the first settlement he came across.
They had quite the delicious food, and apparently harvest had been well, so the people were cheery and happy to drink in the evening.
So even though the Bard had enough money saved to get on for a while, he still decided to play and earn his keep. After all, a free room and free food is, well, free!
The first evening everything went swimmingly. He kept himself from singing any of the songs he wrote for Geralt and managed to keep the crowd happy. But on the second day, after he had a few pints himself, he thought it would be a good idea to play “Toss a coin”. It went well at first. But Jaskier noticed how his throat got tighter after the first refrain. In the end he had to stop because he started bawling his eyes out and gasping for breath. So, there he sat, crying, while a worried barmaid kept patting his head and tried to get him to drink some warm milk.
After he managed to calm himself, Jaskier managed to fabricate a story about how the song triggered his awful memories of a robbery gone wrong and how a Witcher saved him by a hair´s breadth. And it seems like he couldn´t even sing about the Witcher without having trouble breathing because it invoked a panic in his chest. (Only Jaskier would be stupid enough to try and better the Witchers reputation, even if said Witcher was the cause for his breakdowns.)
Luckily enough, the townspeople accepted the story and in the earlier evenings, children would even come to him and ask him to tell of his adventures on the road.
From the third evening on, Jaskier only played songs that had nothing to do with Witchers. Though it limited his self-written song supply, he didn´t want to risk another breakdown. And he could still feel it bubbling in his chest. The self-pity, the hurt, the pain….and the love.
Try as he might….Jaskier wasn´t able to let go of the love he felt for Geralt. It didn´t really surprise him. He never stopped loving. He never stopped loving his father, even when he kept beating him black and blue. Jaskier just knew when enough was enough and when just giving wasn´t enough anymore.
Jaskier stayed at the Inn for two more days. Relaxing, sleeping and eating well, buying new things for the road. He decided to get himself a new bedroll, since he wasn´t sure if his old one was still intact enough to be called a bedroll.
After five days, Jaskier had enough of wallowing in his sadness. He decided he needed to get going, if he wanted to leave this chapter of his life behind. Jaskier also got himself a thick cloak, lined with fur.
It was very soft and oh so warm. He spent quite a bit of coin on it….but since he would not be travelling with Geralt again, he´d need the warmth it could give.
As nice as the cloak was, it still managed to send his thoughts swirling back to all that would change, now that Geralt wasn´t around anymore. It was a slow day for Jaskier after that. Only at night, while putting away his new things, was he finally overwhelmed with it all again. Having another breakdown was not how he wanted his last night at the inn to go, but here he was. Holding the new cloak close and trying to forget how nice Geralt´s coat smelled and how warm it was when they sat by a campfire.
He spent the rest of the night on his bed, cuddling his cloak, crying himself to sleep.
In the next morning, Jaskier was too emotionally exhausted to actually feel frustrated at the falling rain outside the building. As much as the bard just wanted to leave, he knew starting his journey again, when the rain was falling this hard, would be a bad idea.
So, he asked the Innkeeper if he could prolong his stay until the weather cleared up. He pretended not to feel the worried eyes of said Innkeep on his back, after he got his permission to keep the room. He was also trying to ignore the bigger portion of stew the barmaid brought him in the evening. He must have been a sorry sight if strangers were this worried about him.
That night, he wasn´t able to touch his lute.
The day after was better. Jaskier felt lighter. As if all the sorrow had fallen of his tired shoulders. The rain was already getting lighter too. And in the evening, he was able to play. He sang. He danced. He entertained. And for that moment, everything was as it should be.
And Jaskier found enough resolve in himself to fix his broken heart some more. It wouldn´t be easy. But he would be fine. He would still hurt. But he would also remember the memories with Geralt fondly. Because they were still good memories to him. Some of them were the best he had. And Jaskier refused to regret the longest friendship he had in his life. Even if said friend tore him apart.
On the seventh day in the small village, the weather cleared up. Jaskier made sure to thank the Innkeeper for all he did, made sure he was all packed up and started walking.
He still had a long way to go before he got to Oxenfurt.
-.-.-.-.-
So here he was. Three weeks into his travels. And in a situation, he would not have seen coming.
He managed to find a nice little alcove between a cliff and some trees last night, so that is where Jaskier made camp. He just didn´t expect to wake up to a black Horse with a white mane lying right next to him.
At first, Jaskier was so stunned he couldn´t move.
After some time of just watching the horse, and the horse watching him, Jaskier decided to ignore it and just went on with packing up and eating some bread he still had left over from the last town.
The bard kept an eye on the horse, not wanting to entice her (No, he would not check. He would just assume) wrath or do anything that made her aggressive. So, while he was packing away, the horse stood up and started to walk around a bit, until she stopped under a tree and began nipping at the fresh grass growing between the roots.
Jaskier wasn´t sure what to make of the horse…and also not sure how to handle the situation. He never imagined waking up to a random horse. And he woke up to many weird things in his life. This was, admittedly, the most confusing morning he´d had in a while.
He decided then, that the best course of action would be, to ignore the horse completely. The horse was none of his concern. He didn´t want to waste precious travelling time searching for her owner.
So as soon as Jaskier was completely packed up, he started to walk. Going south, towards the road he left last evening.
At first, he really didn´t take notice of the rustling behind him. And it took him almost ten minutes of walking to find the constant noise odd. Jaskier turned around mid-step, hand reaching towards the dagger he had hidden in his boot. But he stopped short as he saw what seemed to be causing the constant noise. Apparently, the black horse had decided to follow him and was now standing just a few steps away.
‘What?’
Jaskier took a step back and kept his eyes on the horse. As soon as he moved, the horse did as well, taking a step towards Jaskier. The bard decided to try again and took two steps back and sure enough, the horse followed.
Coming to a stop Jaskier let out a confused hum.
“And what does a beauty like you want with a bard like me, hmm?” he asked. Not really expecting an answer.
The horse nickered slightly and took some more steps towards him, bumping her snout into his chest. Jaskier´s hands automatically moved up to cradle her snout and he began to pet her slightly, still cautious.
‘Maybe I´m still dreaming’, Jaskier thought. ‘Or I´m finally going crazy. It was only a matter of time.’
But no matter how hard Jaskier tried to wake up, or blink, the horse didn´t disappear.
So Jaskier took one of his last apples out of his satchel and held it out for the horse to eat. The black horse began sniffing at the apple before eating it. She seemed to be careful, as if she didn´t want to nick Jaskier´s fingers while eating. But maybe that was just Jaskier´s imagination.
As the horse ate, the bard started to shift away again, waiting to see what would happen. But the horse did nothing.
“Maybe she was only able to smell the apple?” Jaskier really wasn´t sure how to deal with this. He started to walk away anyway. He wasn´t sure if he would even be able to keep a horse. Nevermind a wild one.
It seemed like the universe thought he could. Because as soon as he was at a few steps distance, he heard the rustling again. And sure enough, a look back showed him the black horse walking a few paces behind him. The bard was unsure how to proceed with this, so he just kept walking, occasionally glancing back to see if the animal was still there.
And just like that, Jaskier found a new companion. Because the horse wouldn´t leave. She kept following him and Jaskier didn´t have the heart to try and shoo her away. (He also really missed having someone to talk to, so he wasn´t really trying hard to get her to leave him alone)
Once he got to a small town with an inn, he thought that would be it. The horse would be gone by the next morning. But even though he spent the night playing and sleeping in the tavern, when he was ready to get on with his journey the next day, the black horse was waiting right at the village entrance for him.
And that was the day Jaskier decided to “keep” the horse. (More like she kept him…but you know).
The bard didn´t know if he would actually be able to ride her, but he got a thick blanket and a bridle for her. She seemed to really appreciate the blanket, if the sniffing at his head and affectionally bumping her snout into his shoulder was any sign.
He didn´t try to put the bridle on right that moment. He wanted to see if he could get her to relax in the evening and if she would let him. If she didn´t, that would be fine as well. Then Jaskier would have to see if he could get something akin to a collar made for her. Since people where going to ignore a horse easier if it had a “sign of ownership”. Though the bard was still one hundred percent sure the horse owned him and not the other way around.
So, when he built the camp that night, he made sure there was enough space for the horse to lie down. He built a small fire and began strumming away at his lute, trying to compose a new song. Even if he hadn´t been able to for the last few weeks. Maybe today was the day he would get over his writers block.
After a while of his playing, the black mare did exactly as she did every night. She lay down behind him and kept snuffling at his hair.
“I can tell you, oh beautiful one, being a bard is not easy.” Jaskier said. “Especially not if you are a bard with writers block. And you know. It´s all Geralt´s fault.”
The horse nickered a bit.
“You actually remind me a bit of him. Not the personality of course. You are a wonderful creature. But Geralt. Geralt was a bastard, you know? Always making it hard for me to follow him. Never talking to me. Always being like: Jaskier you can´t go there or Jaskier you can´t eat that.” The bard ranted. Doing his best to impersonate Geralt´s voice while talking.
“And he would always look out for me. Give me the thicker blanket. Make sure I ate the bigger portion when we were travelling. Always making sure I was okay…” he trailed of.
He didn´t even notice, but it seemed while he was ranting, he actually leant backwards into the black mares’ body. She didn´t seem to mind, still occasionally sniffing at him and then going back to munching on the grass beside her.
“….I really miss him, you know?”
“Even if he was a mean, hard headed, stubborn witcher.”
Jaskier fell silent for a while. The steady heartbeat of the mare soothing his frazzled nerves. He was getting better with dealing with the hurt. And the horse was helping.
“Oh! You know, I still haven´t named you! I can´t keep calling a beauty like you “horse” can I. And I actually got the perfect name for you. Geralt would hate it!”
“I´ll call you Cáerme. It means destiny in elder. The thing Geralt hates the most.”
“And even if your white mane matches his hair, you are such a sweetheart. And I feel it was destiny that brought you to meet me!”
Jaskier snuggled into Cáermes´ side, petting her soft coat.
“You are the best thing that happened to me in a long while you know? I am really glad you didn´t leave me like I wanted you to at the beginning.”
The bard was sure he could fall asleep like this. But he wanted to see if he could get the bridle on first. He was glad he was able to get one without the bit, because he didn´t think Cáerme would approve of that and he hoped that the bridle itself would discourage people from trying to steal her….even if he didn´t think that Cáerme would let anybody she didn´t like near her. She bit the one man that got to close to her in the last village.
Jaskier was a bit nervous with this, but there would be no use in not at least trying. The bard shuffled forward a bit and began talking while putting the bridle around the mare´s head.
“If you´d like, I could get you a really nice bridle in the next town. And I´ll be sure to pick some flowers on the way. We could braid those into it! I am sure that would look really nice on you!!
It seemed like his nerves were completely unfounded. The horse accepted the bridle without any issues. Nickering softly at him every once in a while. Jaskier was a bit stunned, if he was being honest. And very moved too.
He left the bridle for a bit, just to see if Cáerme was comfortable enough and then he removed it again. She didn´t need one in the night, after all. He would put it on again tomorrow.
Jaskier made himself comfy again, patting the mare´s side a bit, softly singing to himself.
He really was getting better. And if they kept the pace, they would arrive in Oxenfurt in a weeks’ time. He would stay there for a while. Maybe he would get the urge to go adventuring again after a while- but for now, he would be happy to settle for a bit.
And he wouldn´t have to worry about Geralt in Oxenfurt. Geralt knew Jaskier would spend the winter there, like he did every year. So Jaskier was sure Geralt would avoid Oxenfurt at all costs. The bard would be fine there. He would heal.