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Jaskier had left the ruins of Aretuza as soon as Yennifer told him of Geralt’s current state. He was no mage or healer; he couldn’t help with the aftermath of the Thanedd. He could help Geralt; he could be there for Geralt. Jaskier rode through day and night to make it to the forest foregoing sleeping and eating in favor of reaching Geralt quicker. He left his horse hitched in the woods with the promise of returning for him as soon as he got to Geralt.

The druids let him in after he proved he was no threat, they led him to a small hut where Geralt was. Jaskier tried to reassure himself that it couldn’t be that bad, he’d help Geralt after multiple close calls, he’d seen his Witcher close to death. He’d never seen him in such a state. Walking into the hut and seeing Geralt so utterly broken broke a part of Jaskier.

Immediately he was at Geralt’s side, hand in hand trying to offer the little bit of comfort he could, it wasn’t much. The only news he had to offer was Ciri’s capture. The only comfort he could give Geralt was his presence and he hoped it was enough for now. Geralt fell in and out of consciousness throughout the day. Druids came in and out checking on Geralt, pouring water down his throat and inspecting his injuries. Jaskier was a nervous ball of energy, and he had no way to expel it. He couldn’t even think of writing or singing with Geralt laying there looking closer to death than life. He felt like he was about to implode from the tension in his body, he felt like an over tightened lute string that was about to snap any minute.

He found himself talking to Geralt’s still form. Saying anything to try a keep his mind off of the fact that his closest friend was dying and there was nothing he could do to help. He just held Geralt’s hand and talked.

“Do you remember the first hunt that I tagged along with, you told me not to but you’re always so stingy with the details and I couldn’t pass up on the chance to see a basilisk in person.” Jaskier found himself smiling at the young fool he once was. “I swear to you I thought I was far enough away, but apparently not because that hideous thing came straight at me. I thought I was living my final moments when its gargantuan ass tackled me. Then you were there, and the beastie was dead. That was when I knew you actually cared, you were mad of course but you were so worried, you were like a mother hen, it was kind of cute actually.”

“I’m not cute.” Jaskier’s head snapped up making eye contact with hazy golden eyes.

“Well, I beg to differ.”

“Of course, you do.” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier looked away from the heavy gaze. “You’ll be ok right?” he could feel the tears starting to well up in his eyes but refused to let them fall, he had to ask, had to know.

“Who’s being a mother hen now?” Geralt tried to joke but the pain lacing his voice made it fall flat. Jaskier could help the tears that fell when he looked back at Geralt. The pained smile fell from Geralt’s face.

“I’m being serious.” His voice was utterly broken, “You’re going to make it right?” The tears were falling freely now and Jaskier couldn’t find it in himself to care, he was scared. He was scared of losing the man he loved, he’d already lost Radovid, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Geralt too. He would eventually be able to recover from the hurt of Radovid, they could have been something, but it went down the drain once he realized what Radovid had done. He wouldn’t be able to recover from losing Geralt, he had barely survived the mountain, but losing Geralt forever would destroy everything that was left of him.

“Where’d you just go?” Geralt’s soft rumble drew Jaskier from his spiraling thoughts. Jaskier was full out sobbing now and he couldn’t stop it. “I can’t lose you too Geralt, I can’t.”

Geralt’s expression softened; with a grimace he shifted in the small bed. “Come here.” It wasn’t really a question.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Jaskier protested.

“Just come here.”

Jaskier slowly moved from the chair to the bed grabbing his coat. He gingerly moved to lay down in the spot Geralt made for him stopping whenever Geralt winced.

“I’m really ok with sitting Geralt, really I don’t want to do anything to make it worse.” He was already getting up to move back to his chair.

“Nothing you do right now is going to make it worse, just lay down” Jaskier looked at Geralt uncertainly, Geralt met his gaze with an unwavering one.

“Fine, fine I’m laying down.” Jaskier huffed once again before slowly laying down. He was stiff as a board on his side looking at Geralt usure where to put his hands.

“Relax bard.” Geralt grunted wrapping an arm over Jaskier’s shoulder. Slowly, inch by inch, he obeyed.

Jaskier had to ask again, he looked up at Geralt’s bruised face, “You will be, ok?” it came out as a question. Geralt looked down at him “I’m going to be just fine Jask” he stated placing a kiss on the bard’s hair line.

“I can’t lose you too Geralt, I…” Jaskier hesitated, he knew he had to tell Geralt, he deserved to know, the thought that he could have died without knowing gave Jaskier the little bit of courage he needed “I love you Geralt, I had to tell you.” It came out as a whisper, tears flowing freely now.

Geralt looked down at him an unreadable expression on his face, looking at Jaskier like it was the first time he had seen him. Gradually he moved his head down, Jaskier tilted his head up to meet him. Their lips touched it was nothing like what Jaskier had imagined, the world didn’t stop moving, time didn’t stop, sparks didn’t fly, it wasn’t the all-consuming kiss Jaskier had fantasized about ever since he had laid eyes on the Witcher. Geralt’s lips were chapped and rough against his own, it was soft and chaste, it was perfect.

It wasn’t long before the two pulled away, Geralt’s head falling back on the pillow eyes closed. “I’m going to be fine, I promise.” He said against the crown of Jaskier’s head. Jaskier nodded his head against the Witcher’s shoulder one of his hands coming up to lay on Geralt’s medallion.

“Get some sleep Jask, you look like shit.”

He couldn’t help the wet laugh that bubbled out of him at the dry remark, he tilted his head to look up at the man, his eyes were still closed, and a small smile graced his lips.

“You’re one to talk.” He huffed back at him. Geralt let out a small snort lightly squeezing his shoulder and pressing another kiss into his hair.

“Sleep Jask.” Jaskier nodded his head and watched Geralt fall into sleep. The Witcher’s breathing fell into a slow rhythmic pattern and soft snore filled the air. It was that sound the reassured Jaskier that Geralt would be fine, they would be fine, it was with that thought that Jaskier too joined his Witcher in sleep.