Work Text:
Jaskier had always known the hike up to Kaer Morhen would be cold but gods, he’d been so naive. Deep down he knew that Geralt didn’t feel the cold like he did, but he’d never quite realised how bad it would be even after countless warnings from his best friend. He was struggling… a lot. Even with Geralt’s cloak wrapped around his shoulders, and gloves kept warm over tiny balls of igni, he was shivering. His toes ached and his muscles burned with every step. The snow whipped around them in a blizzard and despite the fact they could just about see the keep in the horizon… Jaskier knew he couldn’t take another step.
“G-Geralt… I-I can’t,” he spat out through chattering teeth.
Golden eyes met his, and then Geralt nodded. “There’s a cave nearby, can you walk?”
“N-no.”
Gods, he was so weak, but the idea of going any further was enough to make him want to cry. A choked out sob escaped his lips as he was scooped up into Geralt’s arms, his lute case cradled in his chest.
“’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“No need, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Oh and wasn’t that nice. Geralt was not radiating heat like he usually would but it was still warmer than the blanket of ice that seemed to have covered his soul. In no time, the witcher had found the legendary shelter from the storm, and a fire was burning at the entrance of the cave. Slowly, Jaskier began to thaw, still wrapped up in Geralt’s arms, pressed against his chest, listening to the steady beat of Geralt’s heart.
The night was cold, but fire was warm, and in the embrace of his witcher, and the promise of hot food and baths the next day, Jaskier knew everything would be all right.