Chapter 2: The Road Towards Novigrad

Jaskier hadn't slept. How could he have? Geralt had come back into his life after six months of silence, and it had taken everything in him to not immediately agree and run back to his side. Gods he missed being at his side, or a few feet behind him to stare at that delicious ass. He wondered if all witchers were so gorgeous, or if his was just special? Well, of course he was special. Along with infuriating...and he had hurt him.

It was probably midday by the time he had gotten the motivation to roll out of the inn's scratchy mattress. He haphazardly pulled on dark green trousers and a silk tunic as he pulled the lute over his shoulder, and made his way down the stairs. He needed out of this town. He needed to disappear so that friends who never loved you nearly half as much as you loved them couldn't just stumble upon you.

"Jaskier?"

"Fuck!" Jaskier spouted out as he was startled, placing a hand over his heart as Geralt was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, nursing a pint with a plate of sausages in front of him. "Don't you know better than to just startle a man!?" he chastised, heart racing. "What are you even still doing here?"

Geralt looked down at the plate of food, and then rose an eyebrow at the disgruntled bard. "I didn't mean to cause you such offense with my breakfast."

"You cause offense by still being here!" He may have been a little cranky from his lack of sleep. If anyone could understand that, it was the person who had literally had to wish upon a Djinn to alleviate his problems.

The witcher let out a grunt of frustration, staring down at the table. "Is your room cleared?"

Jaskier stared questioningly at him. "Yes?"

"Good," Geralt gruffed. "Let's go. Roach has been saddled for the last hour as you were taking your time."

Jaskier's mouth fell open at the assumption, shaking his head back and forth. "Geralt, I'm not going with you."

"Are you hungry?" the witcher questioned, completely ignoring his rejection. Geralt kicked out the chair next to him. "Blood and venison. They're not bad."

He stared incredulously, before gingerly sinking down onto the chair as the food was pushed in front of him. "Did Roach kick you in the head or something?"

"She has before," Geralt answered easily, his mouth tilting a bit as he watched him with amusement.

"Clearly explains why you're acting like a crazy person," Jaskier surmised, reaching out to stab at a sausage, watching Geralt suspiciously as he ate. "Why are you really here?"

Geralt seemed to consider the question, watching Jaskier eat before he sighed. "I told you last night…"

"Yeah you told me," the bard interrupted. "To go write love songs for some king." He bit into the food, spraying juices across the table, and ignoring Geralt's look of disgust. "But you didn't need me specifically for that. Hell, even you could probably stumble across some words to get the Princess hot and bothered."

"Oddly enough, I don't seem to have all that much luck in that regard."

Jaskier rolled his eyes. "Come off it. You've never had trouble finding a woman to warm your bed."

"I meant finding the right words when I need to say something," Geralt argued.

"Oh?" Jaskier questioned, leaning forward and ignoring the way those yellow eyes were knitted in frustration. "What do you need to say?" he smiled sardonically as he shook his head. "Why are you here, witcher?" he questioned. "Why do you want me to go with you when I clearly burden your life?"

Those eerie eyes shut as Geralt looked away, gritting his teeth as he seemed to be warring with something. "You're not a burden." The words were almost so quiet Jaskier thought he had heard wrong as his heart began to race.

"What?" he asked, flinching back as those intense eyes turned up to him again, and he remembered what had transpired between them the last time he lost his temper.

"I said you weren't a burden, but that doesn't change the fact that you're positively the most annoying creature I've ever come across," the witcher growled in frustration, and that ripped up part in his heart started to bleed all over again.

Jaskier tried to keep the hurt off his face as he remembered exactly why they had separated in the first place. He used to be able to take these quips. It used to not matter before being up on that mountain. Now, he knew the witcher wasn't joking. He pushed the plate of food back towards Geralt, whose lip was curled up in utter frustration. "Thank you for breakfast. See you around, witcher."

He pushed up off of the chair and headed out the door into the sunshine. He just needed to get away. The next town up would be less eventful. He could forget all of this had happened, and forget about the fact that Geralt was just doing this out of obligation. Maybe guilt? Probably both. He had always saved Jaskier when he needed it, all the while keeping a tally in his mind.

Jaskier yelped as arms wrapped around him from behind, trying to swing at his assailant as he was flipped around. He saw Geralt's angered eyes for just a few moments, before he was tossed over the beast of a man's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Geralt!" he said indignantly, fighting against the other as there wasn't even a pause in his stride. "Unhand me you overgrown brute!" he barked, causing the witcher to laugh. "It's not funny! You're going to break my lute!"

"I'll buy you a new one," Geralt assured him, hand wrapped around him to hold him steady as they headed to the stables.

"You don't have the coin for that! We both know you get more work when I'm working for you!" Jaskier argued, trying to kick him only to have Geralt slap his ass hard to get him to stop.

His eyes widened to saucers at the slap, cheeks burning as a wave of pleasure and confusion filled him at the bold move. He supposed it had done the trick, however, because he was too shocked to fight anymore. The hand tightened on the back of his thighs as he suddenly stilled, and Jaskier could feel Geralt's shoulders shaking with laughter underneath him.

He barely had time to spot Roach tied up to the fence, before he was once more flipped over to the ground. Geralt's hand was clasped tight on his hip to steady him, staring down at him in amusement as Jaskier was trembling in anger and indignation. "Go ahead," Geralt spoke in amusement. "I can practically see you bristling like a cat."

"You spanked me!" he hissed, playing right into Geralt's hand as the other laughed.

"I did," he agreed. "You were being a prick." The witcher motioned to Roach. "Get on. We've got to go. I can add your lute to her pack."

Jaskier opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it again as he stared up in confusion. This only increased as Geralt's hand hadn't left his hip. He glanced around to see if this were all some kind of prank, before looking back up at the monster hunter. "Ride on Roach?"

"Hmm," Geralt agreed. "You're always asking." his eyes motioned to the horse. "She doesn't hate you."

"She doesn't?" Jaskier questioned, and for some reason he hoped Geralt wasn't really talking about his horse.

Geralt reached out, grabbing onto his chin as he leaned in. "Get on the horse, bard. We have awhile to travel yet today, and you walking behind will just slow us down."

His heart was racing at the intensity of that gaze, not believing this was happening as he found himself slowly nodding his compliance. Geralt, seeming to be satisfied he was no longer going to try to get away, stepped back and gave him room to approach the horse.

He was seriously starting to suspect that some shape shifter had taken on Geralt's surly mug, and he was a poorly thought out horse ride away from a tragic demise, but then again, he couldn't stop thinking about the way Geralt had looked at him.

Jaskier secured his things, pushing up onto the horse as Roach whinied at the unfamiliar weight. He slid up on the saddle as Geralt swung on behind him, and he tried to keep the look of absolute shock off his face as a strong body pressed against him.

He tried to create as much room between them as possible as Geralt grabbed for the reins, taking them all out of the town. "Geralt?" Jaskier questioned, body ramrod straight as he tried not to think about the fact that he needed just lean back to be pressed against the witcher's cock.

"Hm?" he asked, and Jaskier shivered at the feel of the breath on his neck.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked, not brave enough to glance back and give away just what the trip was doing to him.

"Not right now," Geralt assured him. "But it's always a possibility."

Jaskier nodded dumbly, fingers swiping through Roach's mane. "Just let me know when you decide. I want to be able to write a ballad about my own demise."

"I would never think of denying you any of your notoriety," a warm breath leaned into the shell of his ear. "Dandelion." Hearing Geralt speak his stage name into his ear caused pleasure to immediately shoot to his cock, and he looked back in shock without being able to help himself.

"You've never called me that!" he said, startled. "I didn't even know you knew it!"

Geralt shook his head, looking out towards the wide countryside. "You're such an idiot."

"That's more familiar," Jaskier breathed, turning back to the front. "So, are you going to tell me about this king?"

"King Lannamir," Geralt relented. "As I said he has his eyes on a princess from Redania. Apparently they can't garner a political union, and so he is trying to win her the old fashioned way."

"And you think he's a beastie?" Jaskier questioned. "Your kind of thing?"

Geralt hummed an agreement. "I don't know what yet, but peasants keep disappearing from the village. Their last known location was traveling to the castle."

"How many peasants get an in-person invitation like that?" Jaskier questioned, surprised by the brashness of this king.

"Exactly," Geralt agreed.

"So we get into his court, and try to find out what's happening to these missing people?" he surmised. "It's not the worst idea."

"I'm glad you approve," Geralt managed.

"Where's your kid?" Jaskier questioned, feeling an ache inside at this familiarity.

"Vesemir is training her," Geralt answered easily.

Jaskier didn't know who Vesmir was, but his curiosity had gone through the roof at even that little of information. "Training?" he glanced back at Geralt. "To be like you?"

Geralt didn't answer right away, and Jaskier had given up hope he ever would, when he quietly uttered. "Not exactly. ...It's complicated."

"Isn't it always with you?" Jaskier asked, feeling a grin come to his face for the first time since the witcher had come back into his life. He fought the urge to ask after Yennefer. He didn't want to spoil this, because no matter how much what Geralt had done had hurt, he didn't actually want to be out of his life. And this, riding on a horse as Geralt actually opened up to him, was beyond anything he could have imagined. "Do I get to meet her?"

"Do you want to?" Geralt questioned him, voice close to his ear again. Jaskier was once more reminded of how this was affecting his anatomy, as he struggled to hold in a groan at a particularly large bump on the trail.

"We'll see," he managed, not outwardly saying no. "My fanbase does get so distraught if I'm gone for too long." he joked. He gave an obnoxious yawn as it occurred to him that he hadn't slept as the sun beat down on him.

Geralt didn't reply to his comment, clearly having used his entire quota of speech for a whole month in getting Jaskier to agree to come. Though he supposed he hadn't so much agreed, as he was forcefully thrown over a brute's shoulder and made to behave. It was far too sexy for his liking. Especially when he was trying to be in control of the situation. Especially when he was trying to prevent Geralt from learning just why he had been so distraught with the rejection.

They rode in silence for hours, and the more miles they put on the road, the less stiff and straight Jaskier's posture became. He relaxed back against Geralt's hard chest, getting used to the barn smell coming off the witcher and his companion. The steady gate of the hooves began to lull him as his eyes drifted, not able to stay awake as he found himself leaning fully back into those arms as he drifted off.

When his eyes drifted open again the sky was a deep orange hue as the sun was setting. He was comfortable...warm...safe. A smile came to his face as he wasn't quite awake yet or aware. He was having a very good dream. One which involved his white wolf pressed against him.

"You snore," were the words husked into his ear, and he startled forward as he realized he was on top of a moving animal and had actually been sleeping on the witcher. His heart raced as he was unsteady on top of Roach, nearly toppling over before strong arms wrapped around his waist, steadying his body even if his racing heart was done for. Geralt steered Roach off the road as they headed towards a small town. "Easy."

As if he could ever be at ease again after waking up in such a way. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You're quieter when you're sleeping," Geralt said easily, pulling into the stable as he slid off to the ground. Jaskier tried to get off with the same ease, but after riding on a horse all day his legs were like jelly. He awkwardly stumbled forward, bracing himself against the stable door.

"Where are we?" he asked, not recognizing it as he glanced around. He was still beyond embarrassed by the way he had awoken, but Geralt, for his part, hadn't mentioned it.

"Somewhere near Novigrad," Geralt answered, rubbing down Roach as he made her comfortable in the stable. "Let's go for a drink."

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