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Tags
Summary
Somewhere deep.
Deep, dark and cold.
Not even a breeze to solidify that Jaskier has a form. Something tangible.
Somewhere deep, dark and cold is arresting him, at least something of him.
Jaskier thinks of a mountain.
The vast deep, below and beside and among, gathers and Jaskier can tell its a cliff.
He is on the edge. He could jump. Jump with limbless legs. Fall and fall to nothing. No one. Not one. No longer.
But another somewhere is calling.
He gasps and gasps and gasps for air when he wakes. Gulping and trembling and kneading his fingers into the wool of his tattered blanket. Tangible.
Somewhere, he sits up.
〬〬〬
A more experimental piece where Jaskier is suffering.
Series
- Part 2 of My witcher fics