summary: Jaskier claims Yennefer told him something of great importance. Geralt wants to know what she said.

of the start and the end
part four: i wasn't losing my mind

"What did Yen say?"

"Oh, nothing." Jaskier waves his hand in front of his face, almost stumbling into a tree to his left. The slope of the hill they descend is gentle, but Jaskier's footfalls are so clumsy he almost slips and slides all the way down. He's better balanced plucking his lyre strings.

"Tell me," Geralt growls. Glaring at the back of Jaskier's head, he tries to see Yennefer's words bounce around in his mind. "Now."

Jaskier chuckles. "You're awfully sensitive when it comes to her, aren't you? That's not the impression I got last night!"

Geralt's footsteps grow heavier and sharper against the dry earth. The ground cracks open beneath his boots as he lengthens his strides and stomps past Jaskier, giving his bicep a petulant shove.

"I bruise!" Jaskier cries out from behind him. Geralt can envision him slipping and sliding down the hill in his attempts to keep pace. Jaskier's capable of many great feats, but possessing inner confidence is one he lacks severely.

Geralt continues to ignore him.

"All right, all right! You've made your point, Geralt! I'll tell you what Yennefer said, just—" Jaskier heaves in a breath. His footfalls stop. Geralt continues to storm down the hill, but his footfalls grow shorter. "Stop! I can't go on!"

Cracking a smile, he wipes it off his face before he turns to face Jaskier. Regarding the great distance between them, Geralt begins to slowly ascend the deep, simple slope. Jaskier's all the way up near the top of the hill from his vantage point. "Tell me."

Jaskier tilts his head up defiantly. "Say please."

Geralt stops. All it takes is a sharp arch of his brow for Jaskier to heave out a great sigh. It almost shakes the trees. Geralt's almost proud of him.

"All right," Jaskier exhales hard. Curling his fingers around the thick trunk of a tree, he leans heavily against it and almost trips over his own balance. Geralt waits patiently as he rights himself. "Yennefer said…" Jaskier gulps, struggling to wet his throat. "She said…"

Huffing, Geralt glares at him. His teeth pinch together tightly. "What?"

"Well…" Jaskier scratches the side of his temple. "Well… She said… If I'm perfectly honest with you, Geralt… I, well… She said something about… And then said something else…"

Geralt growls. "Jaskier."

"I don't remember, okay!" Jaskier folds in half, hands palming his knees pathetically. "I don't remember! But it was something! Geralt! Where are you going?"

With his back turned, Geralt smiles. He continues to walk, footsteps heavy enough to scare the little critters from his path. "I'm going to go dig your grave."

"That just seems highly unnecessary!" Slipping along the ground, Jaskier hurries after him. "Geralt! Will you at least dig me a grave near some flowers and under some shade? You know I burn. Geralt! I have sensitive skin! Geralt!"

Geralt ignores him.

Jaskier breathes hard, yelling, "What would Yennfer say about this?"

Geralt laughs. "She'd help me dig it."

"Geralt!"