For the ask game thing, 11. laying their hand on the other’s neck
Someone doing it to Geralt, any flavour of soft 💜
At your service, sweets! <3
Send me a prompt?
On Ao3 here!
~*~
Geralt sits with his head bowed at the edge of a small cliff. His feet are dangling down into the terrible nothingness, making the soles of his feet tingle.
He had a rough night. Ciri had nightmares again, crying and whining and screaming, until he finally just scooped her up and held her close. She settled then, and Geralt spent the rest of the night on the stone floor, rocking her. Ciri deserves some rest, after all she’s been through. And Geralt is worried he is not helping her.
The forest around him and below him is evergreen. Pines, fir trees, and juniper trees follow the slopes up and down. He studies it as his mind races in a billion directions at once. He feels a little shattered.
“You alright, Geralt?” Jaskier asks from behind him. Geralt startles and looks over his shoulder, a little annoyed that Jaskier took him by surprise. Jaskier looks concerned, but tries to hide it behind a smile.
Geralt says nothing and turns back to the scenery. He can’t pinpoint what is wrong. There’s too many things to choose from.
Jaskier takes it for the invitation it is and sits down next to Geralt, just a few inches away from him. This cliff is small, and Geralt feels himself tense up a little with Jaskiers feet dangling next to his own.
He would never forgive himself if he let Jaskier fall.
“You don’t have to do this on your own, you know.” Jaskier says after a moment of silence. “I know you think you do, her being your destiny and everything, but you don’t.”
Geralt keeps his mouth shut. Anything he says now would only sound bitter and hurtful, and he is done hurting Jaskier, if he can help it.
Jaskier hesitates, sensing his mood. Then he bumps his shoulder to Geralt’s, and smirks.
“Always so broody.” He teases. “You know, last time I saw you this broody, you were in a desperate need of a nap. Your brain does funny things to you when you don’t get your sleep.”
“I don’t need sleep.” Geralt grumbles, but that is a lie.
“Absolutely not.” Jaskier agrees solemnly. “You just need a nap. Like the giant toddler you are.”
“Watch it.”
“Nope. I think you need a good sleep and a cuddle.”
Geralt sits silent for a heartbeat too long. There is an emotion welling up in him. Something that makes his chin wrinkle and his nostrils flair.
“You offering?” Geralt asks, trying to joke it away.
But Jaskier scoots back a little and holds out his arms.
“At your service.” Jaskier smiles, still hiding behind that blasted smile. Geralt turns and more or less crawls over to Jaskier, and instead of the hug Geralt is expecting, Jaskier lets them fall to their backs.
Geralt lands half on top of Jaskier, and Jaskier arranges their limbs to his liking. Geralt's head rests on Jaskiers shoulder and one arm is slung over his chest, their legs tangled up.
Then Jaskier hugs him, really hugs him. One arm over his shoulder, one resting over his neck, and press a small, barely there kiss on the top of his head.
Geralt draws in a shuddering breath, and when he breathes out, some of the tension in him lets go. Jaskier’s fingers are warm, soft against his neck. He didn’t realize he needed comfort this bad.
“Sleep, friend. I will keep watch.” Geralt snorts and Jaskier pinches him lightly. “I will! And if you still are this troubled when you wake up, we will take another nap.”
For some reason, Geralt lets himself be soothed. He listens to the nature around them, the even beats of Jaskier’s heart. He smells the dirt, the pine, and the warmth of another person next to him. He
feels the heat of the sun on his back, and every expanding of Jaskier’s chest as he breathes.
All is calm. Everyone is safe.
Geralt knows he can’t fight the dreams, he can’t protect them from what isn’t there. But now, here, in someone’s arms as sleep draws him in, he thinks maybe, just maybe, he might be on the right track after all.
