Geraskier Oneshots

A Fine Mount (Part Two)

The morning dawned clear and cold.

Jaskier was truly still asleep when Geralt awoke, so he got up and went out to brush and tack their horses.  They'd bring them to the spice festival, lest they have to make a quick getaway.

He was doing up Roach's girth when Jaskier found him.  He took the girth from and handed him his saddle bags.  

"Thanks," he muttered.  He still hadn't remembered yesterday's events and was a bit edgy about it.

Jaskier, as if reading his mind, said, "Have you... remembered anything yet?"

Geralt shook his head.

Something flickered across the poet's face.  "Oh... um, alright.  Are we headed to the festival?"

"Yeah," Geralt said, undoing his stirrups.  "We should eat and be off,"

"I'll go get us some food.  I need to pack up that bread anyway,"  Something about his flickering eyes made the witcher uneasy.  Again he was given the feeling that he was lying about why he needed to go back inside.  Yet it wasn't the sort of saucy oh, no, I didn't spend the night with the innkeeper look that he was accustomed to, but rather a, I want to get away from you and I'm lying to do so.

What did I do yesterday morning?

He ignored it and set about securing anything else they'd forgotten before mounting up and ponying Pegasus behind him.  Roach obviously didn't like it, but miraculously behaved and didn't even pin her ears at the grey horse.  

Jaskier brought Geralt a piece of toasted bread and an orange.  He didn't say anything, apart from, "Here you are," and, "I'll take him," when he took Pegasus's reins.  He seemed to be getting odder and odder as the day went on, as if ready to dart away at the first sign of danger.  

But he did follow Geralt into the town, and helped him look for Regis.  Eventually, he called to a pair of ladies carrying giant green-and-purple plants, "Excuse me, fair ladies!  We're looking for a man called Regis.  Have you, by chance, seen him?"

The pair giggled, and the second one leaned past her plant to say, "Yes, sir, we have.  He's down a little ways past here, in a green tent.  You can't miss him,"

"Thank you kindly," Jaskier smiled charmingly, and they giggled again before hurrying off, whispering.  He turned to Geralt.  "My luck with the women is undeniable, eh, Geralt?"

Geralt rolled his eyes and scoffed.  "And pure luck,"

"Eu-wh-Geralt- hey!"  He sputtered, but was unable to come up with a comeback.  

The witcher just chuckled before clucking and trotting through a crowd.

Jaskier eventually caught up with him.  "You ass, that was- oh, look, it's Regis's tent,"

Sure enough, a vibrant emerald tent was now easily visible, towering above the other stalls.  A man sat outside, dressed in plum-colored robes, and he looked so formidable that it took him a moment to recognize that it was, in fact, Regis.  

He raised his eyes to the pair.  "Good morning.  I wondered when you two would be around,"

"Well, your wait is over," said Jaskier jauntily.  "Here we are, and now, Geralt, we can be off.  He's here,"

Geralt eyed him.  "Hold on a moment.  I'd like to talk to Regis for a moment.  We have no reason to leave right away,"

Roach snorted and began to pace, obviously not liking the scent of the vampire.  Geralt didn't much like it either.  "Roach seems to disagree,"