To all of their relief, the diluted portion had worked well enough, and early the next morning Jaskier's fever had broken and they had decided to try and continue their slow march up the mountain. It quickly became clear though that he had serious trouble keeping up with them.

"Come on, Jaskier… Move!" Geralt shouted through the snowstorm that had done its best to hinder their progress for the last hour or so.

The bard just nodded, trying to increase his speed, but he was clearly approaching the end of his strength.

Yennefer wordlessly let herself fall back until he had caught up with her and then simply pulled his good arm across her own shoulders, starting to support some of his weight.

When they were once again sitting around an Igni-fueled campfire later that same day, she eyed him seriously. "You're very weak, Jaskier."

He returned a slightly bitter smile. "Thanks, witch."

"No, I mean… I had no trouble supporting your weight today because you have lost so much of it." Then, when no response was coming: "You need to eat, bard. Show me what you've got."

"Uh… I've collected some berries this morning and – hey!" He tried to reach for his bag that Yen had wordlessly started going through. When she finally produced nothing but a moldy piece of bread, he looked towards the ground as if ashamed of the fact that he had nothing more to depend on right now.

"I told you," he finally explained quietly. "Gerald snatched me from that prison cell and we immediately started traveling again. I didn't have the time – or the coin, naturally! – to stock up on medicine or food."

"Then why didn't you say anything," Geralt once more growled into his direction. "I can easily share. – Witchers don't need as much food anyway…"

A weak smile. "You once told me they only starved more slowly."

"And – in contrast to you – I haven't already started the process, so…"

Jaskier now looked at him seriously. "I'm not eating your food, Geralt."

The witcher threw him a challenging glance. "Would you not share your food with me if it was the other way around?!"

"Of course I would. But I–" Jaskier abruptly pulled back on the blow he had been about to deal. "You know," he finished somewhat lamely, shrugging one shoulder slightly.

"No, I don't know." Geralt still sounded angry, but he got up now to crouch down directly in front of the bard. He placed a careful hand on the man's shoulder. "Whatever I said on that blasted mountain…" He seemed to fight to find the right words, causing Yennefer to roll her eyes slightly. "I care about you, too, Jaskier. Just like you care about me."

"Well, we all know that that's not true, but I still appreciate the sentiment." Then, stubbornly: "But I'm still not gonna eat your food. The group needs you, Geralt, and they need you to be strong."

"Then please have some of mine," Ciri pleaded from the background. "I had a really full stomach every day now!"

A fond smile. "Which is good. You're still growing, love, you need it."

"Jaskier: You. Are. Starving." Yennefer insisted gravely. "You're not gonna make it up this mountain if you don't have something nourishing soon. I understand that Geralt hurt you – with his constant, godsdammed callousness and also with your fight on the mountain."

"It wasn't a fight," Jaskier commented quietly.

Yennefer completely ignored the interjection. "But we need you, too, you stupid bard. So, please, don't let yourself die just to punish this even more stupid witcher!"

"I would have liked to be something of a support for you, not just burden the group further." Jaskier didn't meet the mage's unusually soft gaze.

"There's a reason Geralt asked you to come, and it has nothing to do with your physical prowess. Believe it or not – and the Gods only know how this even happened – but you are dear to all of us and we are not ready to lose you. Or even risk you by allowing you to continue like this."

Jaskier lifted his head to finally look at her again. He managed a very small smile. "So… Do you still have that apple somewhere then, witch?"

She returned a weak smile and handed it over.

"We're making some porridge." Her tone didn't leave any room for protest.

.

When Geralt had wordlessly prepared the meal and handed a bowl to the bard, who accepted it with visibly shaking hands, the witcher's whole body seemed to tense again.

"Dammit, Jaskier… How could you have let it get this bad?! I thought we…"

The younger man patiently returned his angry gaze. "We what?"

Geralt seemed to force himself to continue. "I thought you always said we were friends. Friends ask friends for help if they need it, don't they."

A somewhat sad smile. "Well, yes. Though, to be fair, you do keep reminding me of the fact that you're actually not my friend."

He saw Geralt clench his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might break.

"We'll continue with you on Roach tomorrow," was all he finally said, the previous topic apparently already closed again. Then he turned towards Ciri. "And you'll sit behind him, so you're out of the wind as much as possible." He finally also got some porridge for himself and sat down in front of the fire. "I need us all to make it up this fucking mountain."

"Speaking of which," Jaskier's light voice interrupted the gloomy mood. "And not to be a doom-monger or anything, but…" Both Yennefer and Geralt looked at him now, expectantly. "Will I even be allowed at the keep? I mean… Is it even possible for a mere human to enter Kaer Morhen? I mean, obviously, witchers are humans, too, especially before the trials, so I guess technically it must be possible, but…" Yennefer and Geralt traded a glance, so he interrupted his nervous rambling. Then he continued more quietly, and with heart-breaking honesty: "I guess I just always thought… because it was so clear that we had to part for the winter each year–" He abruptly interrupted himself again when he realized how absurd this notion was; how naïve he'd been…

"Oh." Very quietly this time.

Geralt looked towards the ground, refusing to meet the bard's eyes that were full of hurt; and shame now.

"Yes, well, alright then. No problem apparently, I guess. That's good, that's–"

"Jaskier," Geralt's voice was soft, but he still wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Yes. No… Sorry about that."

"It is very unusual for a human to enter Kaer Morhen. If you don't count Ciri and a group of whores Eskel smuggled in last winter, it hasn't happened in a hundred years."

"Okay; alright." Jaskier quickly nodded, the expression on his face unreadable now.

"But it is possible. And you have nothing to fear from my brothers."

"Yeah, no, I… wasn't worried about that. Witchers don't scare me, remember?" A very small, almost painful smile that had Geralt finally look up again. Whatever it was the witcher saw on his face, he apparently couldn't quite bear it.

"Yeah, well… Maybe they should."

Thanks for reading :)

(to be continued)