Chapter Text
Jaskier had been watching the sun as it gradually made its way across the sky. The clouds had cleared at some time ago, leaving no trace of the storm that had stranded him here. He watched now as it began falling below the watery horizon. Under different circumstances it would be beautiful, the sky lit in vibrant reds and oranges with nothing to obscure the view. Instead, it only brought dread as he was steadily plunged into darkness. He knew sirens inhabited the waters around Skellige, and though he hadn’t seen any so far, he couldn’t help but feel his chances of survival were slowly slipping away with the sun.
In the moonless dark, the open water felt endlessly vast with no end in sight. The only source of light came from the stars, and they were pitifully weak, only allowing him to make out the edges of the debris he lay on. It was just Jaskier, his makeshift raft and the vast dark water surrounding him.
He was thirsty and exhausted and neither problem would be solved any time soon. As he lay there he contemplated the cruelty of the gods making the sea undrinkable. All this water and yet he knew drinking it would only cause more problems. The raft was too small for him to lie down comfortably, curled up in an awkward ball that caused his joints to ache horribly. Still, it was better than nothing so he couldn’t complain too much.
As the night wore on, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was even worth it. Had he only condemned himself to a slow and painful death instead of the relatively quick death of drowning. Would he die of dehydration before anyone found him? Or perhaps another storm would take him, toss him off the raft and drag him back down to the depths where he should’ve died the first time.
Jaskier drifted somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, caught between the two as his body begged for rest but his mind fought to stay awake. Whether he was waiting for monsters or salvation he didn’t know.
Eventually the sky began to lighten, washing everything in blue before turning grey, the dark clouds having returned at some point in the night. The light brought a small glimmer of hope. Maybe he would be found by a passing ship or come across land. On the other hand, another painfully slow day could pass where he slowly succumbed to dehydration.
Jaskier couldn’t tell how much more time passed as he lay there, everything cast in the same flat grey, the sun too obscured to cast any defined shadows to track. The wind picked up a bit, churning the water. Jaskier dreaded another storm. He didn’t move from his position, too weak still to even sit up, last night's rest having done little to help recover his energy.
At some point he thought he heard a voice somewhere in the distance. His first thought was that he was hallucinating, his mind deciding to play tricks on him. It came again, slightly clearer and this time he thought it was a siren and that he was about to be torn to shreds. Summoning the last of his energy, he carefully got himself sitting upright. If he was going to die, he didn’t want to be ambushed.
Instead he saw a ship in the distance. It was smaller than the one he had been on before but it was real. Jaskier would have cried from relief if he had the tears to spare. He tried calling out to them to get their attention but his throat was too dry, the words catching and making him cough.
He waved at them instead, desperate to get their attention. If they sailed past him now, he may not get another chance at salvation. “Hey!” he croaked, his voice barely audible even to himself. He swallowed, trying to get the words out. “Hey! Over here!” he said again, a little stronger but no where near enough to carry the distance.
He kept waving, growing more desperate as the ship continued to sail past. Could they really not seen him? What else could he do?
“Hey! Please, help, I’m over here!” he said, still unable to project his voice across the distance. Jaskier could hear more voices from the ship now. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep waving at them, his arms already aching, his head swimming from the effort.
The ship began to turn his way. Jaskier almost collapsed with relief, letting his arms fall to his sides. He wanted to keep watching the ship but his vision began to darken. The world felt hazy and distant, even as the shouts of the sailors drew nearer.
Jaskier only had a foggy recollection of being brought aboard the ship, many hands grabbing at him before he was brought somewhere dark. He didn’t fully come back to himself until something wet was placed against his lips. Jaskier found himself guzzling the offered water down desperately, almost choking when he forgot to breathe.
“Careful now lad,” came a gruff, heavily accented voice as the water was taken away. “Don’t make yourself sick now.”
Jaskier couldn’t help the noise of disappointment that escaped as the cup was removed. “You can have some more later. Now tell me, what’s your name lad?”
“Jaskier,” he said, his voice still hoarse but significantly better than before.
“What happened to your ship Jaskier?”
“Storm. Capsized the ship and broke it apart.”
“Not unusual for these waters I’m afraid," the man said, shaking his head. "We’re heading to Ard Skellig. We’ll drop you off there. Try and get some rest for now.”
Jaskier could only manage a slight nod and a mumbled “thank you” before his eyes closed and he finally succumbed to sleep.
Jaskier didn’t wake again until they arrived in the harbour. The sailor from earlier had to help him above deck and on to the dock, his legs too weak to support him unaided. He was on solid ground for all of two minutes before he heard someone shout his name over the crowd.
Looking through the mass of people, Jaskier spotted Geralt rushing towards them. Jaskier felt a flood of relief wash through him, dispelling the rest of his anxiety. Geralt was safe. They’d both made it.
Geralt slowed down slightly before embracing Jaskier, his arms wrapping tightly around him. Jaskier responded in kind, holding his friend close.
“Jaskier, I thought you were dead,” Geralt said, mumbling into his shoulder.
“I’m here.”
They stood there for a good minute, just reassuring themselves that the other really was here. Geralt was the one to release the hug first but he kept one hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. “How did you survive?” he asked.
“Held on to a piece of wreckage. Got picked up by this ship a few hours ago,” he said, pointing behind him. “How about you?”
“I was found a few hours after the storm and brought back here. Come on, the inkeeper let us have a room for free while we get things sorted."
"I suppose all our stuff is gone?" Jaskier asked, already knowing the answer but not wanting to hear it all the same.
"I'm afraid so. And our money."
"Shit."
"Hmm."
Geralt led the way along the harbour to the inn they had left the day before. Geralt led them to an empty table, telling Jaksier to sit while he went to order food. Jaskier only wanted to sleep but he supposed he should probably eat something first. Geralt returned shortly, sitting opposite Jaskier.
"What're we going to do now?" Jaskier asked.
"I'll have to take a few contracts, make a bit of our money back, try to get another ship."
"I'm glad you chose to leave Roach behind."
"She doesn't travel well."
"What will I do?"
"For now you ought to rest. You've had quite an ordeal."
"I'm fine really," he grumbled.
Geralt raised an eyebrow. "We both almost drowned and you were stranded at sea for well over a day. You could barely stand when I saw you. You're not fine, and that's alright."
They were both quiet after that. When his food arrived, Jaskier was initially reluctant to eat, his stomach cramping painfully, turning to nausea. Once he had the first bite however he realised just how hungry he was. The stew didn't last long.
Once they were both done with their meal, Geralt led the way upstairs to the room they had rented previously. Jaskier practically collapsed on the bed immediately.
"Do you want to wash first?"
"Later," Jaskier mumbled. As much as he hated the feeling of dried salt on his skin, he was simply too exhausted right now to even consider having a bath.
"At least take your clothes off then. I try to get them cleaned for when you wake up."
Jaskier reluctantly, and with great effort, sat back up to pull his shirt off before removing his boots and standing to take of his trousers, handing the the garments over to Geralt.
"Can I go to sleep now?" Jaksier asked.
"Yes, go ahead. I'll see you later."
With that, Jaskier flopped back on the bed, pulling the blanket over himself and promptly fell asleep.