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Hey mum?
Yes, dear?
May I hug you?
Of course, dear.
You’re soft. Like you were made for hugging.
Glad to hear it. Sleep now.
~~
The night was cold. Not cold enough to cause shivers, but cold enough for two blankets to be necessary when sleeping under the stars. Geralt blinked his eyes open with a huff and stayed still, staring at the night sky above him. It had not been a nightmare. Not this time. Yet it made him want to slip out of unconsciousness, brought back memories supposed to remain hidden, tucked back in the darkest corner of his mind. That is if they still were memories of the mind.
The blankets warmed him whole, still, a shudder prickled his spine and he sat on the bedroll and placed his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes with his indexes. He could try to go back to sleep. However, he was aware that sleep rarely welcomed him back to its veils after he'd escaped it. And even if he succeeded, that same feeling of agitation already troubling his mind awake would follow him in his dreams. Those dreams. He could not bear them, loathed them almost, devious games of the subconscious aiming to awaken arbitrary, uncontrollable feelings stemming from parts of the mind, of the heart that struggled to remain unspoken. He had learned to have control over himself. And when it came to sudden waves of emotions each of he could barely name, he didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all.
He glanced at the campfire, realized it would burn out soon in the humid air. He lit it up with Igni, afraid to make any sound of raising to his feet and then glanced beside him. A faint smile instinctively curved his lips. A sea of ashen, wavy hair was spread all over the bedroll where Ciri was sleeping peacefully, even breaths escaping her lips. He cherished those nights. When the girl was not tortured by nightmares, didn’t wake up in sweat, didn’t scream in the dead of the night. They gave him a little bit of hope that added up to what had remained of it in him. Hope that everything will be alright.
Even if he was hesitant to believe it.
Still, it was nice. Having his hopes restored.
“Geralt?”
He started slightly and turned his head to look behind his back. An almost invisible frown lined his forehead along with a feeling of seemingly pointless relief as he saw Jaskier staring at him behind his fringe with a confused glint in his eyes. Geralt tilted his head and his previous smile widened a little despite his attempt to hold it back. Relief, yes, even if he could not explain it. As if he was relieved that Jaskier was still there, that he didn’t vanish in the cold of the night, that Geralt would wake in the morning to see his face. Even though he knew now he wouldn’t let him leave again.
“Is everything alright?” Jaskier propped himself up on his elbow and rubbed his eyes, yet he didn’t tense. He knew everything was alright, practically, he knew Geralt well enough to understand when to jump on his feet. Still, Geralt answered. Thus he concluded his question was not vain.
“Yes, everything is fine.”
The short, hesitant silence following the witcher’s words made Jaskier raise an eyebrow and shake his head. He had no idea until when he had to guess every emotion consuming Geralt by the shade of his eyes and the tone of his voice, but at least he was well-trained at it. He sat up and shuffled close to Geralt, following his gaze to also see Ciri asleep near them. The soft look his eyes met in Geralt’s could honestly make him melt. He rested his chin on his shoulder and nudged him softly.
“Talk to me.” The almost surprised glance Geralt gave him made him smile as if in confirmation. He reached to entwine their fingers on his lap. “You know I will listen.”
Geralt tensed up for a moment but then he met the bard’s reassuring look and he heaved a deep sigh, letting his shoulders slump. “It’s just…” He swallowed and turned at Ciri again. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not supposed to, I’m not… made for this.”
“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier raised his head to gaze at him from a more comfortable angle. “Nobody is made for this. If they’re capable or not, that comes later. You can’t start anything with such prospects.”
“It’s not the same, Jaskier.” Geralt furrowed his eyebrows ready to oppose but the untroubled expression on the bard’s face made all his arguments seem groundless. He hesitated. “I’m a witcher. It’s different–”
“See, that’s your problem!” Jaskier exclaimed but immediately covered his mouth with his hand and glanced at Ciri who fortunately remained still. Then he smiled charmingly under Geralt’s glare and fondled his knuckles to ease him. “I’ve told you before. You’re not as different as you think you are. This is not easy, yes. And many give up eventually. You know this, probably better than anyone. But,” he took both of Geralt’s hands in his, forcing him to turn around whole and face him properly, “being a witcher is not what is going to make you a different parent. What is going to make you a different parent is the amount of love and care and protection you’re going to give to this girl, and I know pretty well you’re more than capable of those things.”
Geralt didn’t speak. He just looked at Jaskier. Looked at his comforting smile, the understanding in his eyes, felt his caress almost soothing his troubles. He thought about it for some minutes. Love, care, protection. Traits his childhood lacked. Traits he only remembered in a time many years ago, expressed in the arms of a red-haired woman. Or so he thought. Still, as Jaskier’s grip tightened around his hand, he knew he was capable. He couldn’t tell if he actually was some time ago, back when he’d claimed the Law of Surprise, back when Cintra fell and he’d gone searching for Ciri, and the mistakes he’d made in his life were more than a few to let him believe so. But now it was different. Now maybe he stood a chance. A chance of becoming…
“A parent?”The word sounded impossible as it came out his lips. His eyes almost widened in the thought. But Jaskier chuckled and nodded.
“Yes, a parent.” He tilted his head at Geralt’s anxious look. “You’re the strongest man I know, Geralt. And this is another battle yet. But you should remember that this time you’re not alone.”
A sudden warmth overwhelmed Geralt as he heard those last words. Yes, now it was different. Now his path was no more a lonely one. It hadn’t always been if he had to be honest to himself. But now he knew. He knew he was not alone.
Suddenly something tugged at his arm and he found himself with a lapful of Ciri snuggling on his chest. Jaskier couldn’t hold back his laughter. He huffed and embraced the girl.
“How long have you been awake?” He struggled to make his voice serious but not even a hint of his attempt was achieved with Ciri looking up at him with an innocent expression. Instead, he smiled.
“Long enough.” Ciri hid her face on the witcher’s shoulder and glanced sideways at Jaskier who winked at her. She giggled. “Don’t worry, Geralt. You’re already parent-shaped. You’ll work out the rest.”
Now Geralt laughed and Jaskier tried to hide his amusement by biting his lip. The girl was sharp-witted, they knew. Still, she never failed to take them aback. Then, as Geralt laid back on the bedroll, hugging Ciri who had curled up against him with a smug smile, he turned at Jaskier and spread his free arm to reach him.
“Do you think I’m parent-shaped too?” He raised his eyebrow and tightened his embrace meaningfully as Ciri chuckled.
Jaskier shook his head and wiped the tears laughter brought to his eyes. “I couldn’t ever know. But,” he took Geralt’s hand and let him guide him into his hug, resting his head on his chest, “lover-shaped also works for me perfectly.”
He didn’t mind if Geralt’s chest shook with laughter while he tried to make himself comfortable, but he couldn’t really blame him since the three of them kept on laughing for a good minute. Then Ciri yawned and Jaskier closed his eyes, and Geralt pulled the blankets over them, tucking them at their sides. And so they slept, snuggled against each other, and just before Geralt drifted off he tightened his arms around them once more, and smiled. Indeed, they fit perfectly there.
Like he was made for hugging. Hug-shaped.
Strange how shapes could form a family.