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    Summary

    “You said you wouldn’t let me die,” hissed the wraith with Jaskier’s face, its cold fingers closing around Geralt’s throat. “You promised!”

    Geralt’s eyes snapped open. The night was quiet and still, with not even the slightest hint of wind to stir the leaves on the trees. His medallion was likewise still, but it lay beside his ear on the bedroll instead of on his chest, and the section of chain across his neck was chilly instead of skin-warm. He must have moved while he was dreaming and dislodged it.

    ---

    Jaskier survived an ordeal that ought to have killed him, and seems to have come out the other end no worse for wear. So it would be silly for Geralt to still be having nightmares. Ridiculous, even. It would be the absolute height of foolishness to go days without sleeping when everything is fine.

    Because everything is fine.

    Series
    Language:
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