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Jaskier had insisted it was nothing at first. The coughing started only a few days ago. “Just a slight tickle,” he’d claimed. “It’ll go away by itself. No need to worry.” Except it wasn’t “just a tickle”, or even a normal cold. The coughing had deteriorated rapidly into hacking fits that stole his breath. Geralt had taken him straight to a healer at the nearest town, worried it might be something serious when Jaskier had eventually lost his voice. The healer had assured him he would recover with rest but had cautioned Jaskier against trying to talk in case he did some permanent damage to his vocal chords.
Despite Jaskier’s insistence he could still travel, it was clear to Geralt he wouldn’t make it more than a mile before they needed to stop again. Instead, Geralt headed straight for the inn and paid for a room there for the next couple of days. If they needed longer they had the coin to spare for now before Geralt would need to look for some work.
Jaskier had slept for the best part of the day, thought it could hardly be described as restful. He woke up often, coughing and struggling to catch his breath. Geralt made sure there was a cup of water ready and waiting at all times should he need it.
Jaskier had just woken up again, though thankfully this time without coughing. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand before sitting up, the blanket pooling in his lap. He looked barely awake, staring blearily at the wall in front of him, his hair sticking to his forehead where he’d been lying on it. Geralt might call it endearing under different circumstances but all it showed right now was how unwell he must be feeling.
“Jaskier,” Geralt said from where he was sitting by the fire, hoping to kick start Jaskier’s brain into fully waking up. “Do you want some water?”
That seemed to get his friend’s attention as he finally turned to look at Geralt. He could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to process what had been said. Eventually he came to a decision and shook his head.
“How do you feel?”
Jaskier made a sort of disgruntled raspy noise that Geralt understood to mean “like shit”. Which was fair enough considering the circumstances. He rubbed at his eyes again and this time actually looked like he woke up a little. Of course then the idiot had to go try to speak, sending himself into yet another coughing fit as he irritated his throat.
Geralt grabbed the cup of water from the bedside table and moved to sit on the bed beside Jaskier. There wasn’t much he could do to help other than rub his friend’s back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Jaskier didn't seem to mind so he kept doing it.
“Here,” he said, handing over the cup to shaking hands. After a few careful sips, Jaskier regained control of his breathing, taking a few measures breaths. “I told you to write things down if you wanted something. Speaking only makes it worse.”
Jaskier rolled his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak again. “Don’t,” Geralt said, cutting him off before he could even start. “Write it down, idiot.” Geralt passed him his notebook from the table with a pointed look.
Jaskier sighed through his nose but did as he was told, writing in the back of his notebook before passing it to Geralt. “It’s not that bad. Stop fussing,” Geralt read out loud. “Maybe I’d stop fussing if you’d actually listen to me. I’m only trying to make sure you don’t permanently damage your voice.”
Jaskier probably would have grumbled at that, but as it was he could only manage an annoyed huff through his nose.
“Was there anything else you wanted to say?” Geralt asked, handing back the notebook. Jaskier took it from him to write a single word.
“You’re hungry?” Jaskier nodded. “Alright, I’ll go see if they have any soup.”
Geralt was only gone a few minutes, but Jaskier was asleep again when he returned to their small room. Geralt debated whether to let him sleep or wake him up. The decision was made for him when Jaskier woke himself up with another coughing fit, though this one not as bad as the last.
“Easy, deep breaths,” Geralt said as he helped Jaskier sit up. After a moment Jaskier seemed to be alright again so Geralt handed him the still warm bowl of soup. Jaskier took it from him carefully, resting it on his lap. Geralt left him to it, turning to tend to the fire in their room. He had assumed, as one would, that Jaskier would eat his soup. However when he turned back around, he watched as Jaskier stirred it idly with his spoon, making no move to actually eat it.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked.
Jaskier jolted back to himself, very nearly sloshing the cooling soup all over his legs. “Huh?” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I said, is something wrong? You’ve been sitting there just stirring it. Are you actually going to eat it, or do you want to go back to sleep?”
“Eat it,” he said, finally getting some soup onto the spoon and raising it to his lips. Once he’d had the first mouthful, he seemed to finally wake up fully. The soup didn’t last long, Jaskier apparently having been hungrier than he realised.
“Do you want more?” Geralt asked as he scraped the bowl clean.
“No, thanks,” he rasped, placing the bowl on the small table next to the bed.
“You really need to stop talking.”
Jaskier opened his mouth to say something, no doubt some scathing retort about how Geralt wasn’t in charge of him. He did didn’t get the chance however, his breath catching in his throat, setting off yet another coughing fit. Great moved to sit beside him, rubbing his back in slow circles, hoping to at least bring some comfort to his friend. He picked up the cup of water, ready to hand it to him should he need it.
Geralt hated how it all reminded him of the djinn incident a few years ago. Every time Jaskier would start coughing again, Geralt worried there would be blood, bubbling up between his lips, staining his clothes a bright crimson. He knew he was being irrational; the djinn was long gone and had no reason to return. But the fear remained. What if this was somehow caused by the djinn, a lingering effect of almost choking to death. What if Jaskier did permanently damage or lose his voice. What if it was his fault.
Jaskier eventually stopped coughing enough to take the cup from Geralt, taking a few gulps before handing it back.
“Why don’t you get some rest,” Geralt suggested.
Jaskier shook his head, but thankfully didn’t say anything.
“Why not?”
Jaskier searched the blanket for where he’d left his notebook. After finding it buried underneath he scrawled something down on the back page before handing it to Geralt. “Not tired”.
“I beg to differ. You still look exhausted.” Jaskier scowled at him with mock hurt. “Fine, just try lying down for a bit.”
Geralt tried to take his notebook from him before he could argue but Jaskier was surprisingly quick to avoid him. At least he wasn't trying to speak. He just hoped he wouldn’t take too long or else he’d end up wrestling Jaskier to try and get him to take a nap.
After a moment, Jaskier thrust the notebook at Geralt who took it gently, reading the unusually messy writing out loud. “Thank you for looking after me. You don’t have to.”
“Jaskier…” Geralt started, suddenly a little lost for words. “I seriously hope you don’t actually think I’d leave you behind just because you got sick.”
Jaskier at least had the grace to look sheepish, staring down at his lap while he absently picked at the skin of his palm. Geralt put his arm across Jaskier’s shoulders, pulling him in to a hug. After the initial shock of the gesture, Jaskier reciprocated, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s middle and burying his head in his chest.
“You’ll get better soon enough. But you need to keep resting your voice. It would do no good if you did permanent damage to it because you were too impatient.”
Jaskier nodded against Geralt’s chest before pulling away. “You going to have a nap now?” Jaskier nodded again so Geralt got up to allow Jaskier to lie down. After a moment to adjust the blanket over himself, Jaskier closed his eyes and soon his breathing evened out.
Geralt put the notebook back on the bedside table next to the cup, ready should Jaskier need either. His friend would be fine, he just needed rest.