Try, Please Try For Me

What Does This Make Us?

In Geralt's life, he's never wanted anything more than to do what he's supposed to. He's never known anything different, never thought about what his life would be if he weren't a witcher. He wants nothing. He doesn't need anyone, anything. Just Roach and relative solitude so he can do his job, get paid, and move on.

And yet...traveling with Jaskier is nice.

Geralt's never been one for company on the path-- company usually gets killed. Or it's annoying and unwanted. But neither of those issues are present when with Jaskier. Being part fae, Jaskier is able to endure much more than a normal human would when on the path, and if they're vigilant, he could one day be almost as capable as a witcher. And Geralt enjoys his company.

While they spend time walking, the bard will chatter away about anything and everything, so much so that Geralt can't always keep up with it, but while he might set his face in a scowl and not offer much in the way of response, Jaskier never seems to mind. He's just content to have Geralt listen. And Geralt likes to listen. The way Jaskier talks-- it's so full of life and light that Geralt doesn't feel as if he deserves to have that brightness focused on him. But Jaskier's face lights up so at just the smallest sign that Geralt is listening when he talks, he's in awe that a man who shines as bright as the sun would allow even a fraction of his light fall to him.

Geralt smiles to himself, and looks up from the piece of wood he's carving, to where Jaskier is sitting across the campsite. The bard is cross legged on his bedroll, lute in his lap, and notebook by his side, plucking the strings here and there and humming quietly. Every now and then he'll stop to scribble something down, or tap his pencil on his knee in contemplation.

He catches Geralt looking and gives him a small smile.

"How's the song coming?" he asks.

Jaskier hums, and taps his pencil against the tip of his chin. "Slowly. I'm stuck on the last verse, can't decide how I want to word things."

"You'll figure it out, you always do." At least, that's what Geralt assumes. He's never actually heard Jaskier sing his song while working on it. In fact, he only ever seems to sing when he's actually performing, choosing only to hum otherwise. And even then Jaskier seems hesitant about that, always glancing at Geralt when he does, as if he's doing something wrong and Geralt will berate him for it.

"You know, I've actually been thinking about something," Jaskier says.

"What's that?"

"I promised you I'd write a song about your adventures, something to help change people's opinion on witchers. But I'm not so sure this one is the best to start with. I think I need something a little more direct, something that makes people understand how much you help them. You're a good man, I want them to see that."

"I'm not some knight in shining armour, Jaskier," Geralt deadpans.

"You're my knight." The bard bats his eyelashes in the witcher's direction, placing a hand over his heart and Geralt rolls his eyes.

It's another one of his flirtatious comments, and Geralt is never sure if he means them seriously or not. When in towns, Jaskier seems to flirt with everything that moves-- which is fine, of course, he can do whatever he wants-- so Geralt tries not to take anything he says too seriously. But deep down he still selfishly hopes that Jaskier means it.

"So what's your plan then?" he asks.

"I think...I need to write something that can help all witchers. I'm just not sure what. I need that spark of inspiration, ya know? Which, by the way, might be easier to acquire if you let me come on a hunt one of these days."