Jaskier nodded, the movement making his head swim and him feel dizzy. He held on to her arm a little harder to keep himself upright and not fall over into dead leaves, ash, and blood.
“Okay,” he agreed, not asking her what it could possibly mean to move fast after pulling a giant wooden stake out of someone. Those details he would hardly have been able to memorize in the condition he was in. “Problem of the future. Gotcha.”
Rayne’s hand was cold. Shockingly cold because he was so warm. It was like he was touching a ghost or a dead thing which brought back the image of black veins under white skin, pulsing and bleeding into her eyes until there was nothing left of the person whose hand he was holding now.
It jolted him, keeping him from falling over his own feet when they finally started moving. The night was still dark even without unnatural causes making it worse. His eyes hadn’t adjusted yet and he was following her blindly, quite literally, for the first few steps. Soon, he could make out trees and large objects, could see her in front of him clearly but he wasn’t sure what they were walking towards. He had to trust her and, weirdly, he did. Despite what he had seen, she had saved his life and she was still in the process of saving it now.
A few times, Jaskier stumbled on uneven ground, feet dragging and catching on bumps and twigs and roots and piles of leaves. Almost anything had become and obstacle. Her hand was the only thing preventing him from falling over one time when he stumbled badly along the way. His shoulder was throbbing, the makeshift bandage feeling more uncomfortable every step they went further into the woods. The bleeding had stopped now but he still felt like he was bleeding and that worried him. Meanwhile, he could see the stake protruding out of Rayne’s shoulder. She had to be in pain worse than he was.
The forest was an unforgiving place in the best circumstances. In circumstances such as these, it was worse. And like it happened in places that were naturally horrible to traverse, travelers had, over time, made changes to make the place easier to be in and built shelters to keep themselves and others safe on the way.
It was one of those places that they came upon. Jaskier didn’t see it until they were almost at the door of the abandoned hut. He felt Rayne tug and stumbled forward, grunting in pain.
“Care to elaborate on a place?” he asked, taking heavy breaths every other word. “Everywhere is a place. Not that I’m picky.”
He saw the shack as soon as he was done talking, uttering a soft ‘ah’ as he understood. In the darkness, Jaskier couldn’t see how bad off the hut was. It was ramshackle, dirty and overgrown but it’s got walls and a door and it’s better than anything they could have hoped to find.
Jaskier had been starting to feel cold despite the cloak he was wearing. Rayne had to be freezing. Not losing any time, Rayne went in and Jaskier followed necessarily because she had his hand still clasped in hers. He only pulled it out of hers once they were inside so that he could push the door closed and fall back against it.
Falling back against the door with his shoulder turned out to be a bad idea. He screamed in pain, gritting his teeth as he tried to breathe through the pain. He put his hand on the shoulder expecting it to come back with fresh blood but it didn’t. All blood on it was already starting to dry and would flake off his skin soon.
“Hmmm — yes, bad idea,” he commented, voice pressed, “Definitely not doing that again.”
Jaskier looked up and over at Rayne, wondering how he had managed to walk all the way without collapsing. He was breathing hard, his lungs burning and his shoulder stinging and throbbing still.
The shack was quiet. One only realized how loud the forest was once it lay behind. The walls didn’t help too much but they did isolate. Especially against the wind that had rustled his hair and pulled at his cloak while they were outside. The wind howled outside and rattled on leaves and twigs and the walls of the hut but it didn’t reach them anymore. Jaskier was thankful for that.
“What —” Jaskier started, swallowing hard around a lump in his throat. His eyes caught on the stake in Rayne’s shoulder. It taunted him with its presence alone and it frightened him with the possibility of killing Rayne even after they had escaped the battle or with the image of it coming alive at night to finish taking their lives as the monster had intended.
“What do we do now?” They couldn’t make a fire in the building. No matter how old and ramshackle it was, Jaskier would prefer if it burned without him inside. Unless, he thought, it had a fireplace. Jaskier squinted and looked along the walls.
FINDING THE SHACK is an instance of utter luck, but at this point it’s not something she’s going to spit on. especially not when her life isn’t the only one on the line here–playing chicken with death when she’s the only player is one thing, but she won’t dare to play that same game with jaskier’s life. absolutely not.
the yelp of pain immediately causes her to turn, concern etched into her features as she takes a step toward the bard with a hand outstretched. she’s poised to touch him, to check if he’s alright, but something stops her. for the briefest of seconds there’s flicker of GUILT that passes through her eyes. rayne is glad it’s dark. it lets her hide.
instead she changes her path, fingers carefully grabbing the hem of the cloak and carefully repositioning it around jaskier’s shoulders so it keeps him warm. she can’t risk him getting hypothermia or going into shock. her touch lingers a little longer than it needs to as she looks him over to ensure his shoulder is the only injury he’s sustained.
then he’s looking at her shoulder and asking what to do.
❝let’s just get our bearings in here first, see what we have to work with.❞ the nod that pairs with soft words–a tone that rarely ever surfaces with her–is meant to reassure jaskier that all will be well. as sure as her words may sound, she doesn’t really know.
distance is put between them as rayne turns to survey the shack herself. it’s not much by any means, but tonight it’s their saving grace. neither of them would survive being out in that wind all night.
cabin walls are decorated in little more than a layer of dust and suspicious red-brown stains that rayne suspects are blood. it’s no surprise they aren’t the first injured guests this place has housed, and she doubts they’ll be the last. this isn’t what she’s looking for. rayne needs to be able to start a fire, not just to bring some warmth back into their bones but to sort out her shoulder. a fireplace is the most idea, the safest for them, but she’ll take something as simple as even a cooking pot. anything that she can contain a fire in if only for a short while.
a step forward to investigate things more closely leads her to stumble slightly. rayne has to reach out and use the closest wall to steady herself, posture rigid as she stands statue-still. her head is spinning in the slightest and she can’t focus until it stops.
a breath and a moment later, she’s moving again. she’s forcing herself to keep moving despite the protesting from her overworked and horridly abused body. rayne’s always asked too much of her body, more than it can handle. but she has to do this, she has to fix this. rayne needs to have the answers and get them through this because she’s the one that dragged jaskier into it.
❝it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.❞ words are whispered, the volume so low it’s the only indication they aren’t supposed to be spoken at all. it’s supposed to remain a thought. but who’s she trying to convince with it? certainly not jaskier.
