Our Paths

Chapter 3: Finishing the Job

Once the sun was well and risen, Geralt had little choice in waking Jaskier to continue their 'adventure'. The poor bard was horribly disoriented and the interrupted catnap only fueled his foul mood. Still, he tried not to be upset, not speaking as to avoid saying something he'd regret. It had Geralt unsure if the bard was well enough to continue, but he knew they had to stay on the trail for fear of losing the beast and his expensive weaponry.

Taking some pity on the human, he packed up their camp himself. Allowing the bard to grumbled angrily and incoherently to himself.

"Jas-"

"Don't," he growled, glaring with dark bags under his eyes. "I need to wake up before you, you do something."

"Okay."

"Good," Jaskier added wandering away from the witcher. "I'll be back!"

Geralt watched the bard wearily, he could easily smell the tiredness and fury on the bard. He knew better than starting something with someone not entirely lucid. Had it not been of importance the bard would have snapped at the witcher as he used to when they traveled together. Once Jaskier returned, he looked refreshed though still tired at least he was presentable, though that didn't matter for a leshen.

"How long will this take?" Jaskier asked as they continued into the dense forestry. "I'd like to leave here as soon as possible, hopefully by tomorrow's end?"

"Hmm?"

"I already told you didn't I? The village I had been, was an awful bunch. Figured I'd lighten the mood with a few drinks, apparently, I was robbed. Not that they cared, nor helped. So I thought doing my job could restore my funds before I left, it didn't. Not like they had much to give anyways. And if I heard correctly, neither does this village you've been to. I'd like not to take coins from the impoverished. Seeing as neither of us has much in the way of coin, I suppose yours will have to do for us both."

"I'm not taking coin."

"I beg your pardon?" Jaskier halted, bewilderedly glaring into Geralt's thick skull. "Did you just say these people aren't paying you? Why in gods' names would you agree to slay their beast if not for coin!"

"Debt owed."

"You, a debt? Nope, I just can't see it happening. How could you ever be in debt? No one would dare claim a debt on any witcher! Absolutely no one sane."

"Not my debt... doesn't matter. Leshen has my sword, 's expensive."

"Of course it is! Silver is no commodity, especially not one for the use of a witcher! Well if I ever had such a chance to keep silver it most certainly would not be so dull. Imagine the decorative uses I could have for such a metal. If I truly required a weapon, I'd have to make do with a small dagger."

Geralt listened as Jaskier rambled on, following the heavy tracks and scent of a wounded foe. As they continued on, Jaskier ceased his one-sided conversation with Geralt, instead choosing to rant on to Roach who was more responsive to the jovial man's bickering. She easily matched Geralt's brisk pace as Jaskier lagged behind the pair, still quite tired.

But when they finally reached a dark section of the forest, the air turned frigid and the sounds of nature faded. Even Jaskier's instinct told him not to speak, something smothering the area under a thick fog that shouldn't be intruded upon. Yet the trio had to enter the oppressive atmosphere, not to turn back until Geralt finished his job. Though the mare did hesitate and slow to match Jaskier's strides.

It was surprising when they finally stumbled upon the leshen's corpse. Jaskier gagged at the smell, unlike the usual beast there was very little gore left behind, however the odor of rotting remained prevalent. Geralt seemed unfazed as he stalked closer, alert as always, he swiftly took back his sword. Cleaning the damaged blade against the mossy back, dark goo, scraping off as he dragged it along. 

He examined the corpse looting what was still fresh. He took both antlers and carried each individually to Roach, strapping the enormous appendages to the sturdy horse. She whickered unhappily, clearly upset with the corpse mounted on her.

"Let's go."

"Yes, let's be rid of this ghastly beast," Jaskier adamantly agreed, following the witcher back to an unfamiliar path. "So this way, then?"

"Hmm," Geralt nodded, looking back briefly before stepping onto the muddy road.

"My boots will be ruined!" Jaskier whined, "These are my favorite pair. I've had them for years, they can't take this sort of travel much longer. I've been pressing the matter as of late. And without my things, I can't simply replace them with another pair. Are you listening Geralt?"

"Hmm."

"Come now Geralt, spare me the expense," he pouted walking along the side. "I can't afford another pair. My clothing is expensive enough. I have to replace it at the nearest merchant shop. I'm covered in filth! Can't you see, my pants are covered in mud and grim, and even my coat is mucky. "

"Just follow, bard."

"Of course you wouldn't take pity. What should I have expected if an emotionless witcher-"

Sighing Gerald turned on his heel lifting the bard with ease onto Roach. "Shut up."

"Thank you, this is much better," Jaskier laughed. "Now, I can spare my poor footwear the treck. Hopefully, they can hold out a little longer. At least until after I replace my wears."

The witcher could only roll his eyes at the man's antics. At least that had yet to change with the bard.