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Jaskier doesn't feel like he's taken a proper breath in the last hour, maybe longer. He'd come stumbling down the stairs near noon, after the late night recording of the podcast had been derailed by a song idea, to find Lambert and Geralt more or less at each other's throats. The other witchers either exaggeratedly ignoring (Vesemir and Coen) or heckling (Eskel and Aiden) them. Trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in his temple that usually preceded a headache, it had taken him a moment to spot Ciri, curled up as small as possible between the sofa and the wall, looking younger than her thirteen years. Her face buried in Mor's short fur, both her and the mastiff trembling slightly. So he'd grabbed both of them and the keys to Vesemir's jeep, and set off. He wasn't sure that anyone had noticed the three of them go.
Now they're sitting in an idling car, Jaskier's stomach grumbling an unhelpful counterpoint to the quiet radio. He leans forward to rest his forehead on the steering wheel with a sigh, and hears a quiet giggle from the seat next to him in response. Its the first sound either of them had made since they left the ranch house behind, and it cheers him slightly. He doesn't know Ciri very well, just from a handful of visits and phone calls over the last year or so, but she doesn't seem to mind being kidnapped.
"There was a sign for a farm shop at the last turning, how do you feel about seeing what they have for breakfast, lunch, food, whatever?"
She nods at him and Mor woofs in the backseat in apparent agreement. It turns out to be a lovely old wooden set of buildings containing a shop, petting zoo and, most importantly, a cafe. They end up in an unseasonably warm courtyard, critically watching a group of teenagers trying to pet the goats and avoid being headbutted. Ciri seems to have absorbed some of Eskel's opinions on the animals, and starts to share them as they wait for the food, gaining confidence as Jaskier listens and asks questions. Something in his heart softens as he watches her wild gestures and excited expression.
A selection of plates appear on their table with a low chiming sound, along with the biggest mug of coffee Jaskier has ever seen. There's a pile of sausage, egg and hash browns on one, a huge stack of pancakes on another, surrounded by various toppings, and finally a bowl of fruit and yoghurt. Jaskier doesn't know a huge amount about feeding children, but he's fairly certain fruit and vegetables should be involved somewhere. Mor immediately sticks her face in his lap, eyes wide and begging, and he can't resist breaking the end off a sausage to give to her.
They eat slowly, not feeling any rush, and Jaskier looks up where they actually are, ignoring the handful of waiting texts. He didn't pay much attention to where he was going, just on putting some distance between them and the others. He's circled around more than he'd thought, so they're maybe 45 minutes away rather than over an hour, but on the top of the map page there's a lake edge with some hiking trails marked. Even though its still winter, there's a couple hours of daylight left if they want to take advantage.
Even though Jaskier knows she has a heavy training schedule full of strength, agility and fight training, Ciri seems to jump at the chance. And it makes him wonder just what was happening before he woke up, Geralt has said the wolves get restless over winter and tensions can rise if they're all together for long periods, but he had stayed at the university the last couple of years so hadn't seen it firsthand.
So they pile back into the jeep, Mor finishing off the last few bits of food then flopping happily over the backseat. As soon as he pulls into the almost empty car park Jaskier remembers that neither of them is actually dressed for the outside, but Ciri scrambles over Mor and starts digging through a pile of coats with no reservations. She offers him a raincoat with a thick fleece lining and pulls on an adorably oversized cable knit jumper, adding a padded bodywarmer over the top. Its not rained much the last couple of days, so his shoes will probably be fine. Next time he escapes somewhere he needs to remember to grab his walking boots not his stage ones.
The crisp air hits him as soon as he opens the door, the thin layer of frost blanketing everything crunching underfoot as he jumps out and immediately spins, Mor and Ciri joining him with joyful barks and peels of laughter. Jaskier doesn't just travel for Geralt, or for the people he meets, but because he loves this, loves the world. Loves the freedom, away from his family's pressure sure, but full of opportunities to see things, learn things, experience things. A million things to be inspired by.
They head down the trail, Mor bouncing off to snuffle at the grass, but ignoring the birds and squirrels. The trees overhead rustle in the breeze, making the light beams dance around them, and the world is reduced to shades of green and brown, the white carpeting the ground and flashes of blue from the lake ahead and the sky above. Moss covered rocks and hanging icicles, the tapping of claws and fluttering wings, the distant roar of a waterfall.
Ciri breaks the silence, as they spill out from the forest onto the shore, tucking herself under his arm as they're almost blinded by the setting sun across the water. "All the shouting, it reminds me of Grandma, sometimes. Yen usually takes me for a few days when it becomes… too much."
Jaskier blinks, he'd completely forgotten about her in his rush to leave, to just get Ciri out of there. Yen was just as much her parent as Geralt, and just a phone call and a portal away. "Do you want to call her now?"
Ciri looks at him for a moment, head tilted to one side and eyes serious. "No. This is good too."
He can't help but reach out to wrap an arm round her shoulders, tugging her close to kiss the crown of her head. "Thank you, little lioness."