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Jaskier leaned over, throat burning at the sensation of acid climbing back up and bursting from his mouth, little waves synched up with the spasmic flexing of his diaphragm. The bile left in his mouth tasted even worse than how the bits on the ground and his shoes smelled.
"Fuck," he whispered, voice cracking.
Stumbling through the woods was not how he'd hoped to be spending his evening, especially when he needed help, and now, but he couldn't do much more than continue on, limbs shaking, leaning against trees and voiding his stomach as his body demanded. The bitter, sour smell dogged his every step.
He knew there was something fishy about the lady of the minor barony he'd been invited to, but there tended to be many things about nobility which set off Jaskier's desire to leave. He probably should have left earlier from that estate though. Before he was poisoned. Before he'd found out just how much the lady had hated witchers, and Jaskier, who's name was catapulted to fame because of one. Geralt would have kept him from trouble.
Except he wasn't there. He was making his way back to Kaer Morhen, several days ahead of Jaskier by now.
"Who said this was a good idea?" His giggle turned into a cough, and he was heaving again. Nothing but hot bile and spit came out. His hands were beginning to shake.
He wouldn't make it; Jaskier was going to die.
Sniffling wouldn't help, and it only made the burning in his face and nose worse, but he couldn't help himself. His eyes blurred, making his trek harder, and also stopping him from noticing the hulking wall of man in front of him.
After exclaiming an "Oof," one so small and pathetic even he felt sorry for himself, arms grabbed and held him upright, giving Jaskier a chance to look up through his tears.
"Oh," he said, "Eskel."
"Yeah bard. What-" His nostrils flared, and he growled out, "Poison."
"Surprising everyone, even me, I'm not universally popular." His stomach gave another spasm, after which Eskel picked him up, literally sweeping him off his feet like some damsel and booking it.
"I can fix this. Just. It'll only take a moment, just hold on."
Jaskier nodded, relaxing into the strong arms cradling him.
"I mean it. Geralt would kill me if something happened to you."
Jaskier reached up and patted Eskel's chest. "Safe."
"...Yeah." Eskel clearing his throat sounded like rumbling rocks, but Jaskier was charmed, as much as his pain let him be. "So. How do you feel about staying with us for the winter?"
A punched out laugh wheezed from him, shaking his already noodle-like limbs. In no situation would he ever turn down an opportunity like that. "Now I have to live."
Eskel grinned.