Chapter Text
It’s about a year after that mountain that Geralt and Jaskier are travelling together again. It was tense for a while, lots of apologies, awkward dinners, and wary glances between the both of them, but they had reached some semblance of normalcy. They were both determined in their own way to make up for it, to travel again like they used to.
Jaskier was different. Different, of course, as anyone would be after your best friend and closest person yelled you off a mountain-top. Vitriol and self-hate following you all the way back down instead of the strong and kind witcher you were used to. Jaskier was especially different today though -- he seemed more jumpy, there was a mild scent of anxiety from him growing over the last few days in their journey past Lettenhove to the next hunt.
Jaskier was freaking out. Ok, freaking out was maybe dramatic but he was a bard damnit he can be a little dramatic when it’s called for.
If he had it his way, he wouldn’t ever be within Lettenhove ever again. He got out of here, he escaped, and he was free from that horrible place and all the memories that came with it. Honestly, he didn’t even remember it all most of the time…but there were some nights where…he felt different. Like he was out of control, he’d wake up wrapped in his blankets with tear tracks and a migraine he’d usually only assume came from drinking too much the night before even when he hadn’t had anything to drink. He hated those times. He could only remember fragments or flashes of emotion -- never the whole of it. It scared him.
So here is where he found himself, too close to Lettenhove, and he could barely keep his composure in front of Geralt. He couldn’t fuck this up, Geralt really didn’t need a reason to toss him aside again now that they’ve just returned to some form of their normal.
There was a scream heard to their left, both men flipped their heads to the side and Jaskier moved closer to Geralt and Roach,
”Geralt? You want to tell me with that super hearing of yours that that was just some sort of really messed up bird? ..Geralt?”
“I should check it out, something’s off. The locals said the monsters weren’t for another few miles but it’s possible they’ve been moving closer with fewer people going out into the woods. Stay here with Roach, don’t move.”
“Right, yep, i’ll be right here, writing your new fight song! Don’t forget to bring me the details back! More details than guts and gore, hopefully”, Jaskier replied as he and Roach moved a little off to the right side of the path, and Geralt vanished into the forest.
“I’m sure he’ll be right back, nothing is too bad for Geralt to handle! Yep, absolutely, total faith.” Jaskier’s hands trembled. He was back in this forest again. Alone. Again. He steadied his breathing as best as he could. Roach gave him a look out of the side of her eyes and gently pushed her snout into his chest, unsure why the bard was so anxious when he’d seen plenty of fights before.
The longer Geralt was gone the more Jaskier panicked. He could feel it coming on. He would be unable to focus very long, felt some minutes disappearing and suddenly the sun was gone. Everything was wrong. He was supposed to be out of here, he had escaped. He was still holding his lute, sitting on some stump he’d found when he must have decided that his legs weren’t going to hold him properly, but he can’t remember when that was, exactly.
Just as the stars began to show and Jaskier was barely able to see the earth in front of him anymore, numb in his hands and back from sitting unmoving for so long, there was a rustling and Geralt stumbled back onto the path. He was hunched over, hand on his right side, hair an unrecognizably dark color. He paused for a moment when he saw Jaskier before slightly crumbling down onto one knee on the path. Jaskier leapt up immediately, rushing past Roach and to Geralt, hands out but not yet touching his shoulders.
“Geralt? Geralt what do you need, gods there is so much blood,” Jaskier was quick, scanning Geralt for the source of it all, feeling grounded now that Geralt had returned.
“Bags. Blue potion.” Geralt grunted, Jaskier sprinting back to Roach and searching through Geralt’s potions, running back with the bag,
“Geralt! I hate to say it but I don’t see anything blue in here..anything else that could help? Geralt?”
“...Fuck. Out then. Gotta get to a town.”
“Ok, ok ok, Geralt let’s get you on Roach then, you gotta help me though I can’t lift a whole witcher on my own.” The two made their way back up off the dirt, and Jaskier did what he could (not much) to help Geralt get up onto Roach and the saddle bags away. Fortunately, Geralt was too out of it to notice that no camp supplies or bed rolls had to be put away. Despite it being the dead of night, Jaskier had been far too out of it to have set anything up.
Geralt was hunched over on Roach as they approached Lettenhove. Much to Jaskier’s declining mental state, it was the closest town and Geralt needed help. Jaskier felt like his heart rate kept changing - first rabbit fast then back to perhaps unnaturally slow. His hands and feet felt cold and he couldn’t focus his vision enough to make out more than the general shapes of town buildings and yellow blurs of light. The metronomic rhythm of Roach’s hooves on the dirt kept him moving.
“IS THERE A HEALER HERE!” Jaskier started shouting once they got close enough to the tavern, leading Roach towards the stable with Geralt still on top. “Please we need a healer!”.
Two drunkards coming out the front of it looked his way. “Healer? Uhh healer would be up uh,, two streets left? Right mate?” he turned to his companion,
“eeeeyupp! It’s just up this way, left on second roww” The companion stumbled, then giggled, and both continued stumbling out from the front of the inn.
“Alright Geralt, that’s the lead we’ve got, let’s go” He talked towards the man atop the horse, getting what might be a grunt in reply as they continued.
Finally arriving Jaskier knocked on the door, “Please! We need a healer, I know it’s late”
A few agonizing minutes later, the door creaks open to reveal a short older lady squinting up at the trio. Perhaps an interesting sight, a frantic bard, horse, and witcher covered head to toe in blood. Sighing, the woman pushed the door open a bit more and turned to walk back into her home, a silent invitation.
Jaskier helped Geralt down from Roach, “I know it’s not ideal my dear but please stay right here outside,” Jaskier gave Roach a few pets as he helped Geralt down and then into the house.
“Aside from the obvious, what’s wrong with ‘im?” The healer asked Jaskier as she went about gathering general medicinal supplies and bandages.
“He went off on a hunt, came back like this, he had asked me for some blue potion? He’s got some sort of big wound on his side…it looks sort of black now..” Jaskier tried to be clinical but he was panicked. He was worried for his friend, panicked at being back in this town, and he felt like he wasn’t fully in control of himself anymore. His hands would shake, his eyes darting around against his will it seemed. He felt so agitated all his body wanted to do was run in one direction and not look back. He needed to stay. He needed to be in control for Geralt. He couldn’t let whatever was going on cause him to lose the only friend he’d ever had.
“That’s a lie, Jaskier
He shook his head, hard, focusing back on the healer. She narrowed her eyes a little bit but went back to her primary patient,
“blue potion, with the blackening wound I’d say it’s a slow acting paralysis poison of some kind, which explains the behaviour. A wound like this would never normally take a witcher down this way. I should have some antidotes that are already made, but since I don’t know exactly what poison it is he’s going to get a weaker dose and he’ll have to sleep it off. I can rinse around the wound and bandage him, and I’ll need your help to clean the rest of him off. I very well can’t hold up a witcher at my age, and there could be poison residue on the blood he’s got on him.” The healer set about grabbing potions and bandages.
“get us OUT of here, Jaskier, she’ll recognize you..they all will..”
”Shut up!” Jaskier quietly hissed to himself, too tired to focus on not responding out loud. Luckily, the only one who could have noticed was Geralt, who was sufficiently incapacitated currently.
Jaskier helped hold Geralt upright and clean the blood off. The healer gave him a potion and bandaged the open wound on his side. A few hours later and a lot of gold paid the two were sent back out the front door to head down to the inn for the rest of the night.
Arriving, finally, to their room, Geralt and Jaskier went to bed as soon as their heads hit their pillows.