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At the first rumble of thunder Geralt felt his shoulders tense up. It wasn’t fear. He’d be a terrible witcher if he were afraid of a storm. It was just they were always so fucking loud. The lightning streak across the sky and burnt his eyes, the ground shook underfoot when they got too close and the fucking noise.
It was just too much.
Jaskier noticed immediately that something was wrong. Of course he did. The bastard seemed to have a weird sixth sense when it came to Geralt. The sounds of the bard’s humming stopped mid phrase.
“Geralt?” There was a hand on Geralt’s thigh. He pulled the reins and slowed Roach to a stop. He scowled at the sky as he dismounted.
“Let’s keep going.” He muttered.
“Geralt.” Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm and pulled him round so he was facing him. “Are you alright?”
Geralt pulled away from Jaskier’s touch. He hated feeling so vulnerable in front of anyone, let alone the bard. Jaskier just had a way of seeing through all of Geralt’s defences. “It’s just… fuck.”
The lightning flashed brightly across the sky. Why was it that you only ever noticed the lightning after the first roll of thunder. “Are you scared of thunderstorms, Geralt?” Jaskier asked with wide eyes.
Geralt shook his head and grunted. “No. It’s just too much.”
Jaskier hummed. “Do you trust me, dear witcher?” His hand was hovering over Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt took a deep breath and nodded.
“Fuck knows why, but yes.”
“Close your eyes.” Jaskier instructed in a firm but soft voice.
“What?”
“Oh just do it, you brute. You said you trusted me!”
Geralt closed his eyes and he felt Jaskier’s hand in his, Jaskier’s thumb stroking circles into the back of Geralt’s hand. Geralt swallowed. This was new. He was close to Jaskier, you didn’t travel together for years without gaining some intimacy but this? This was different.
“Focus on my voice, Geralt.” Jaskier whispered, his voice suddenly seeming almost hypnotic. Geralt did as he asked and nodded. They were still walking, slowly now but Geralt let Jaskier guide him. “I am going to sing. Is that alright?”
Geralt nodded. “Just not Toss a Coin.” He grumbled.
Jaskier let out a gentle melodic laugh. “Of course not, darling.”
And then he began to sing. It was softer than anything he usually sang at taverns and banquets, more of a lullaby. Quiet and calm, the opposite of the storm around them. The lyrics were haunting, poetic and tender. Words that Geralt hadn’t associated with Jaskier before but he found he liked this new calmer side to his bard. Geralt listened to every syllable and every sound that fell from Jaskier’s lips until the thunder faded away. The rain fell cold against his skin but all that mattered were the soft sighs and gentle breaths of his friend.