Chapter Text
They’d been warned of how quickly the weather could change out here. That didn’t mean Jaskier truly appreciated how fast until it happened. It had felt like they’d only just left Ard Skellig when the rain began. The captain had said not to worry, he didn’t think it would turn to a storm. Jaskier had foolishly believed him, heading below deck to wait it out. Geralt hadn’t been convinced, but powerless to do anything about it he joined Jaskier.
The storm picked up shortly after. The wind battered the sides of the ship, whipping the waves ever higher. The ship rocked at increasingly dramatic angles to the point where all he could do was lie on the ground and hold on for dear life. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, and at that point Jaskier truly began to fear for his safety. Geralt got up, stumbling his way over to the hatch, saying something about going to help. Though what he though he might be able to help with, Jaskier wasn't sure.
A few minutes passed with Jaksier now the only one below deck. Shouts from the sailors could just be heard above the wailing of the storm. Another crack of lightning, accompanied by thunder confirmed that the storm was right above them now. More shouting, the ship tilting dangerously, the timber groaning with the strain. Jaskier decided that if they were going to capsize, he would much rather not be trapped inside. Slowly making his way to the hatch on all fours, Jaskier scrambled his way out.
As soon as he was outside he was met with chaos. He was pelted with freezing rain, coming down hard and fast. He grabbed on to the rail to steady himself, afraid of slipping and being thrown into the churning water below. The sailors were shouting to each other, fighting to be heard. Lightning split the sky, striking the mast with blinding light. Splinters flew out as the wood split. Jaskier had only a second to shield his face before he was pelted by the sharp wood. Frantic shouts filled the air as the mast came down, the pieces falling down onto the deck and into the water, snapping the planks of the deck as it went.
Another wave was coming, taller than any Jaskier had ever seen. They wouldn’t survive this one, not this time. Jaskier silently prayed to all the gods he could think of as it approached. He thought he heard someone call to abandon ship but he was frozen in place. What difference would it make if he jumped or not.
The wave hit the ship side on. Jaskier was knocked over with the force of it, his back hitting the cabin behind him. That was all that kept him on board as the ship tilted. Unlike before, it didn’t right itself, instead rolling on to its side. It didn’t stop there, going beyond horizontal. Jaskier took a deep breath before he was plunged into the water, feeling himself being sucked down to the murky depths.
The water was black, the salt burning his eyes, making it impossible to see. He wasn’t even entirely sure which way he was facing. He let out a few bubbles of precious air, watching which way they went. Righting himself, he swam desperately for the surface, avoiding sinking debris, his lungs burning. He wasn’t sure he could make it, salvation seeming so far from his grasp.
His hand broke through first, shortly followed by his head. He took in a greedy breath, choking as saltwater ran into his mouth. Fighting to stay afloat against the waves he coughed, trying to take another breath.
He spotted a piece of wreckage not too far away and swam for it. It may not save him but if he could keep his head above the water he might have a better chance of coming out of this alive. It was difficult to find purchase on the slippery wood, made harder by the choppy water. Jaskier eventually managed to grab hold of it, pulling himself out of the water enough to finally take in a heaving breath.
His relief was short lived as another wave came, washing over him, tearing the flotsam from his grip. He was more prepared this time, able to keep himself righted, swimming straight for the surface. Looking around, he couldn’t see anyone else, or even the remains of the ship. He was surrounded only by the sparse debris of their broken transport.
He swam to the nearest piece of driftwood, able to grab hold of it much easier this time. It was almost big enough to lie on, possibly a broken section of a wall. He summoned the last of his strength and pulled himself up and onto it. He held on for dear life, praying he wouldn’t be tossed back into the water.
Lightning illuminated his surroundings, casing everything into harsh relief. Still he saw no sign of any others. He stayed like that, holding on tightly to his little island of safety until the storm ceased, endlessly assaulted by wave after wave, lightning and thunder his only companions.
Slowly the storm moved away, the waves becoming less severe, the gap between blinding light and deafening boom lengthening. The sky went from near black to oppressive grey. Jaskier’s limbs felt numb from the cold, his hands aching from holding on for so long.
When he felt like he was no longer in danger of being thrown back into the water, Jaskier attempted trying to sit in the centre of his makeshift raft. It tilted dangerously underneath him, threatening to tip over. After a bit of careful manoeuvring, he managed to get himself sitting upright, giving him a better look at the sea around him.
His stomach sank. There was no sight of land anywhere, just endless water out to the horizon on all sides. The remnants of the storm lay to his left but he had no idea which direction it had hit them, nor which way he was heading. He could be heading back to Ard Skellig or just as likely further out to sea. There was no way he could get himself back to safety. He would have to hope someone found him.
He hoped Geralt had fared better than himself. If anyone was going to survive a shipwreck, it would be the witcher. He just hoped he would see him again before he died out here.