I, too, needed your help (Geralt/Jaskier)

Chapter 5

"What did you mean when you said "I'm cursed," acting all serious?" Jaskier spoke for the first time after a few hours of traveling. This surprised the witcher, who was until then in deep thoughts.

The bard was avoiding Geralt all morning, conversing with the dwarfs in an overly loud manner and cheerfulness. Everyone seemed to get more and more annoyed with Jaskier as the time passed, only Geralt was hung on every word he said.

The witcher hoped to hear a clue of some sort that would explain the bard's alarming state more. What he actually heard were empty phrases, lame jokes, and endless pain masked behind his lively mood.

Jaskier's condition reminded Geralt of people being hours away from death, getting better one last time before the inevitable end comes for them. Of course, there wasn't a planet on which Geralt would let Jaskier die for real, but watching him hopelessly wasn't easy either.

Although Geralt decided to help Jaskier in any way possible, he wasn't any closer to coming up with an actual solution. The more time passed, the more Geralt suffocated from pent-up feelings. He wished to do anything to cease these feelings, to yell at the bard, to make him talk even if it meant using force – though that was just a panicked thought of the witcher. He would never hurt Jaskier, not physically.

It was just so fucking frustrating to be a spectator of the show. Geralt always preferred to be just that, a passerby, a stranger. Now, the painful reality came crushing down his chest, the realization he wasn't capable of becoming anything more.

A companion? Or perhaps a friend? Has he even qualified for that?

The more he thought about it, the gloomier the witcher became. When he replayed all the events and what happened between him and Jaskier, it was clearer than a day that Geralt didn't treat him right. At all.

Even when the bard deserved just that. Someone who would treat him right.

"Your mind seems to be covered in black fog," Geralt answered Jaskier's question honestly and for once forced himself to explain the matter properly. "I don't see it now, but I caught a glimpse of it when you were asleep. Someone cursed you, pretty badly. The darker the fog is, the more severe is the curse."

The witcher knew better than to ask again who was behind it. Jaskier didn't want to talk about it and Geralt was scared that if he pushed the matter, he'd ignore him for god knows how long. He wasn't about to risk it all.

"Now you sound like this one Seer I visited, she also mentioned some black fog, bad decisions, and misfortune..." the bard recalled, but his voice dripped in sarcasm. He seemed to doubt Geralt's words or was at least teasing him – the witcher couldn't tell.

"Jaskier, this is serious. Curse this strong could kill you."

"In that case, it should hurry up. I'm getting bored" Jaskier laughed, but it sounded like sharp blades cutting through a thick atmosphere that was forming between the pair.

"The sooner we fix it, the better," Geralt spoke while putting importance on every word. The bard was never this careless with his life, Jaskier's indifference was raising all the red flags in the witcher's mind.

"How do you fix a curse, Geralt? I'm sure it's not as easy as slaying a Basilisk for you," the bard turned towards the silver-haired man, making provocative eye contact. For some reason, Jaskier wanted to start a fight with Geralt.

"You have to find a counter curse. In some cases, it's enough to kill the curse caster, but for a curse this strong... I don't know," Geralt shook his head helplessly, staying oblivious to Jaskier's offensive posture.

"Oh, yeah, find a counter curse. Got it. Will ask in the next village if they have it in-store, thanks."

"I'm trying to help you," Geralt couldn't understand the bard's thinking. He was the one who asked and the witcher was trying his best to explain. Geralt was trying to communicate with the other, but for some reason, it was doing more harm than good. Again.