Today I heard your voice briefly.. vaguely.. softly.. and just like that, you've once again permeated my veins into it's quiddity. Without the glimpse of your face and out of the warmth of your presence, like how it ever was, your voice filled my ears so beautifully. My heart leaped like how butterflies gently leave a petal. And from that ethereal moment I was again reminded, within that seconds which seems like an eternity, your verses were still not mine. I am not the music that completes your song.
I was thinking maybe it might be fun to do a series of small fics where Geralt gives Jaskier a piece of his clothing... Maybe it could even been one of those 5 + 1 jobbies, I don’t know! I will probably run out of ideas for that immediately 😅 but anyway, here’s the first one for CLOAK.
Geralt isn't sleeping. He's tired –gods, is he tired– and the hour is late enough, and his eyes are closed. He allows his senses to dull, just enough...listening to the wind rustle the dead leaves still clinging to the branches above him, the crackling of their dwindling camp fire, the creaking of old, exhausted trees. He allows all the sounds to blend together and then fade. He teeters on the brink of sleep...
Jaskier sniffles.
Geralt grits his teeth and tries not to sigh. He doesn't care, he tells himself as he listens to the bard shuffle and grumble against the cold ground across the fire. The fool had wanted to follow him, after all, entirely against his wishes. Perhaps spending a few nights sleepless and chilled will finally be enough to shake the bard loose and free Geralt from his summer-long shadowing... And honestly, it's not Geralt's fault that Jaskier only has provisions as fair-weathered as he is: one light jacket to his name, a thin bedroll, not even weather-proofed, for fuck's sake-
Jaskier sniffles again then his teeth chatter, a quiet ticking.
Geralt does sigh then and before he can change his mind, he drags himself out into the cold night air. He hears Jaskier's rustling shift, feels his eyes on him as he digs through his saddlebag and pulls out his well-worn cloak from where it was folded at the bottom. It smells strongly of horse and sweat but there aren't any guts dried to it...it will do. He shakes it out, and gives it a toss in Jaskier's general direction. The boy just blinks at him in surprise and Geralt growls, exasperated.
He gestures to the cloak.
“You're cold,” he says.
The bard stops gaping at him and scrambles one arm out of his ineffective covers, pulls the cloak in with him and starts wrapping himself up in it. Good. Geralt takes a few pieces of kindling from their small reserve and tosses them into the dying fire, stokes it back to life. He might have to go for more firewood if he is going to keep the flames going all night. He is still assessing when the shivering hulk of bedroll speaks.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue, dear witcher,” Jaskier stammers. He sounds like a hinge in need of oiling. It should be grating. It should be. “I fear I'm not entirely prepared for the change in seasons...So kind of you to take notice...”
“I couldn't sleep,” Geralt snaps, “with your teeth rattling.”
Jaskier laughs, like he isn't the most annoying human Geralt has ever met. His laugh is almost as warm as the fire and it prickles at Geralt's skin.
“Oh,” Jaskier gasps, when he gets a hold of himself, “Oh, dear, you aren't joking...Well, Geralt, I'm sorry, I will try to be quieter next time I'm slowly freezing to death, if it please you.”
“No next time,” Geralt says and the bard stills and stares at him. Geralt still doesn't understand why this fool would want to follow him to the ends of the world – for songs of all things! – and fate has finally given him an opportunity to cast him off once and for all...
“...No...no next...?”
In the flickering light, Jaskier looks impossibly young and crestfallen and... godsdamnit.
“We will find you some warmer things. When we next stop for supplies.”
At Jaskier's answering grin, he huffs, turning back to stoke the fire good and high,
Strip me off from this nothingness and those i dont need.
Strip me off of hatred, anger and bitterness
but dont leave me off empty, instead fill me with Your joy
a joy that no reason can decode
a peace that even storms cant destroy
a love that goes deeper tomorrow
and wisdom of the ways of Your heart contains
Leave me with Your light in this path,
but dont leave me alone with myself.
For i am the darkness on my own;
I am destruction on my own.
I need you, i cannot light myself up on my own.
You make the blind see,
open my heart as the windows of heaven pour for me.
I am pretty sure that all of who you are screams for love, transcendence and the limitless scorch of living. But what can you do if it only wrestles with the flashes of emotions and not really going anywhere near it? What can you do if your unending tussles brings you to where you have started?
We try so hard taking control of everything. But Jesus asked as to let him take the wheel because as long as we stay in the ship, we are going to be fine. We are not called to know everything that we will face in front of us. We are called to trust the one who owns the ship.
Now that the mysteries of His plans in my life unfold before my eyes, i dont plan running away from His arms ever again. For His plans are bigger than mine. It may not be as clear now, but it will all make sense in His perfect timing. I just have to trust in Him.
