A Midsummer Dream

Chapter 2

Despite the trip to the Midsummer Festival being entirely Jaskier's idea, Geralt still struggled to drag him out of his bed the next morning.

"Get out of your pit or I'm driving to the festival myself," Geralt threatened, placing a fresh cup of tea on Jaskier's bedside table.

"Why are you up so early?" Jaskier yawned. "It's still dark outside."

Geralt threw open the curtains and sunlight poured into the bedroom. Jaskier groaned and pulled the quilt over his head.

"Because in your infinite wisdom, you arranged for us to attend an event that was a fourteen-hour drive from Norwich," Geralt replied coolly.

With a sharp tug, he pulled Jaskier's quilt off of the bed and tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor. Jaskier squealed as the cold morning air hit his bare skin and he flailed about trying to find something warm to cover himself with. The closest thing to hand was his silk kimono, which he wrapped around his shivering, goose-pimpled shoulders. He glared at Geralt with sleep-crusted eyes and wasn't surprised to find that he was already dressed and ready to go.

"Have you packed everything that you need for the trip?" asked Geralt.

"Almost," Jaskier lied, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "I'll be ready to go in five minutes."

It was evident from the bemused expression on Geralt's face that Jaskier was a terrible liar. "Five minutes, eh? Alright, I'll just meet you in the van."

Jaskier waited for Geralt to leave the room before leaping off of his bed and he began throwing everything he'd need for the trip into a rucksack. As much as he enjoyed booking last-minute trips for him and Geralt, packing was always his least favourite part. Twenty minutes later, he was bundling his belongings into the back of Geralt's rusted VW campervan while Geralt sat waiting patiently for him in the driver's seat.

"You were quicker than I expected you to be," he teased as Jaskier climbed into the passenger's side.

"Funny," Jaskier replied sarcastically. He squinted at his haphazard appearance in the wing mirror and tried using his fingers in an effort to comb his mussed-up hair. Settling back in his seat, he put on his seatbelt and turned to Geralt. "Okay, I'm ready to go now!"

"About bloody time."

Geralt turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the kerb. Before they could make their epic journey across the country, they still had to pick up Jaskier's friend Triss, who lived on the other side of town. Jaskier had met Triss at university during their acting classes and had a shared passion for musicals. Geralt tolerated Triss for Jaskier's sake. Thirty minutes later, Geralt pulled into Triss's street where she was already waiting for them on the edge of the pavement, dressed as though she were ready to attend Woodstock. Sporting huge tortoiseshell sunglasses and a floral maxi dress, she had to hold her wide-brimmed straw hat to her head as a summer breeze threatened to blow it away. Stubbing out her cigarette on the ground with the heel of her sandals, she grinned and waved wildly as she saw the van approach.

Geralt's eyes narrowed. "Is that a bongo drum on top of her suitcase?"

"Looks like it."

"Fuck."

As Jaskier exited the van, Triss pulled him into a tight hug and smacked an affectionate kiss to his cheek. "Namaste, guys! How are you doing?"

"Morning," Jaskier greeted her brightly while Geralt merely grunted.

Unperturbed by Geralt's cool reception, Triss gave him a quick hug before they helped transport her luggage into the back of the van. Once Triss climbed aboard, Geralt started the engine again and soon they were on the motorway, the start of a very long journey ahead of them. Triss settled herself in one of the passenger seats and smiled at the pair through the rear view mirror.