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Jaskier felt like he could sleep for a fucking year.
He had never been so utterly exhausted, so thoroughly wrung out in his life.
The sleepless nights helping elves as the Sandpiper, the fucking torture, going to prison, and let's not forget the Deathless Mother and Ciri's possession. The terrible loss of so many Witchers from a place that should have been safe, from their home.
Yet, he knew he could not rest, not yet.
There was work to be done and he needed to pull his weight. The Keep had already been half ruined even before hell had been unleashed upon them, now the main hall of the Keep was almost destroyed.
So he pushed aside the way his limbs felt so heavy he could hardly hold himself up, the way his eyes burned even when closed, and set about helping wherever he could.
He found himself helping Lambert move broken furniture, helping Coen collect medallions from the fallen witchers. He found himself on hands and knees scrubbing blood from the floor. Until finally, he found himself face to face with a Cintran Princess, turned Witcher trainee who was looking as though she would burst into tears at the slightest provocation.
" Ciri?" Jaskier asked after a few moments silence, "Ciri are you alright? Actually, of course you aren't. Stupid question to ask you at a time like this. I know there is no way that you could possibly be alright my dear, but is there anything I can do to help you?"
Ciri looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers together in what must have been a nervous habit. Finally she seemed to steel herself and faced him once more.
"Could you sing for me?"
Jaskier gave the girl a tired smile and nodded.
"Of course. How about we head to your room and I'll sing you a song or two to help you sleep?"
"Thank you, I'm not sure I can sleep after…well, after all that, but thank you."
She led Jaskier further into the keep until she opened a door to a small, freezing cold room.
Jaskier looked appalled at the freezing room and shook his head in mute horror.
"This is your room?" he finally asked, the words hard to get out from sheer disbelief.
Ciri just nodded.
"Right, we are going to find GeraIt."
Jaskier set off back towards the hall where he had last seen Geralt. By the time they found him, Jaskier was feeling his exhaustion deep within his very bones, his vision beginning to go hazy around the edges. But he was determined that Ciri would not spend another night in that freezing closet of a room.
"Geralt we need to talk about Ciri's sleeping arrangements," the bard said, coming to a stop before the white haired witcher.
"Not really the time Jaskier," Geralt replied as he hefted more broken stones into his arms to be moved to a pile with other rubble and debris from the fight.
Jaskier followed Geralt, determined to help Ciri in any way he could.
"No Geralt, that girl has been through enough, please do not tell me you think her room is acceptable?"
Geralt sighed and turned to face Jaskier knowing the bard wouldn't let this go if he didn't.
"Ciri is sleeping where all trainee Witcher's have stayed, Jaskier. It's what she wanted."
Jaskier ran a hand down his face, his exhaustion forgotten momentarily in exasperation.
"My dear, she may wish to be a Witcher now but she was a princess up until recently. A very fucking traumatised one at that. The poor child needs a room that is not half filled with snow. How she hasn't fucking frozen to death I don't even know. Now tell me where she can sleep?"
Geralt looked guilty for a moment as though he realised he should have done better. He simply nodded once then turned on his heel and left the room, Jaskier and Ciri following.
Jaskier wasn't really aware as he followed Geralt down various passageways, lost in exhaustion he only came back to himself when Geralt stopped to open a door to a bedroom.
The room was cold, because of course it was, but the windows were intact and there was a small hearth. Geralt set about lighting a fire while Jaskier helped Ciri into the small bed, the girl looked ready to fall asleep on her feet.
Once Ciri was settled Jaskier tucked her in and promised her a song the next day.
Ciri nodded sleepily, murmured a thank you and closed her eyes.
With Ciri as good as asleep, both men left the room quietly.
Back out in the hall Jaskier's own lack of sleep caught up with him, the bard stumbling as he tried to set off back down the hall.
Strong arms caught him around the waist, stopping him from falling face first to the stone floor.
"Jaskier, you alright?" GeraIt's voice rumbled in his ear.
Jaskier tried to answer but he couldn't seem to find the words, his ears were ringing and his vision had gone fuzzy. He faintly registered Geralt's startled cry of 'fuck' before everything went dark.
When Jaskier woke he was not in the room he had commandeered when he arrived at Kaer Morhen. No, this room felt far more lived in. He was covered in warm furs, there was a fire crackling in the small hearth and there were a few personal items around the room, a few books and some very familiar swords hanging on the wall. He was in Geralt's room.
Just as he reached this conclusion the Witcher in question opened the door. He had a tray in his arms with what appeared to be a mug of tea and a bowl of porridge.
"Geralt? What happened?"
Instead of answering, Geralt just sat the tray on the bed within easy reach of the bard then moved to sit in front of the fire.
He watched in silence as Jaskier drank his tea and ate his breakfast. When Jaskier was done Geralt retrieved the tray, placing it near the door before coming to sit beside Jaskier on the bed.
"What happened is that you pushed yourself so far past your limits that you passed out. You were out for the rest of the day and night," Geralt paused as though he was debating whether or not to say something more. Finally he seemed to reach a decision, reaching out for the bard's hand and giving it a light squeeze. "You scared the shit out of me Jask, please don't do that again."
"Sorry my dear, there had just been so much going on…it's been a long few days. Months really if I'm honest. Smuggling elves, torture and prison followed by a crazy night of possession and monsters really takes it out of a man," Jaskier explained, fighting back a yawn despite the apparently long sleep he had just woken on.
"Wait, torture and smuggling elves? What the fuck?"
Jaskier looked at Geralt in confusion, "Didn't Yennefer tell you I was in Oxenfurt?"
"Yes but she just said you were in trouble, I found you in a prison cell Jaskier and assumed that was the trouble."
"Ah well that makes me feel a little better actually. I did think you might have wanted to know about what happened with the whole torture thing but you never asked and quite frankly I didn't want to think about it," Jaskier looked at their still joined hands and tried not to think about his time with the fire mage, barely suppressing a shudder.
"I won't push but you can talk to me when you're ready. I know I fucked up after the dragon hunt but I don't want to lose you again."
"Thank you Geralt, maybe not now but soon. Now I'm still tired and you look wrecked. Will you join me for a little while?"
Geralt nodded and climbed under the covers, wrapping his arms around the bard. They had a lot to talk about but for now they would just enjoy being in each other's company once more.