Geralt was soothed by the gentle combing through his hair, eyes fluttering shut. Jaskier's fingers gently broke any knots in his hair, the bard's sweet humming a sound that was calming instead of headache inducing. The Witcher wasn't sure how the bard convinced him to stop and rest or even how they ended up here, but wasn't complaining. It'd be nice to look presentable for perhaps a day before his hair returned to a mangled state.
The feeling of water on his back jerked Geralt out of his thoughts, grunting softly in confusion. He risked turning his head to try and peek at Jaskier, only to have wet strands of hair smack his face gently. He flicked the dropping hair away before quirking a brow at the bard, who held a small cup with an awkward smile spread on his fire lit face.
"There's dirt and God knows what else in your hair, Geralt." Jaskier finally explained, shrugging slightly. "My Witcher deserves a hair day every once and a while, eh?"
Geralt paused at the wording, unsure how he felt about it. Jaskier's Witcher? He wasn't anyones. He didn't respond, figuring it was just a playful jab of some kind, to lighten the mood.
The Witcher kept an eye on Jaskier as the bard went to the river for more water, but was otherwise still and calm. The trips for more water went without a problem, soon Geralt's hair throughly soaked with water. The soft combing soon returned, soothing him back into the state of unexciting daydreaming.
He was awoken from the state at a satisfied hum from the bard, hearing him shift to sit in front of the Witcher. Jaskier's smile looked like a flash of sunshine in the nighttime. Geralt raised a brow, lifting a hand to his hair to see what was so thrilling. He felt...a braid? He wasn't entirely sure what it was, sharply flicking his gaze to the bard across from him.
"What the hell did you do?" He demanded, crossing his arms over his armored chest. Unlike most people who would flinch at his harsh tone, Jaskier simply hummed, clapping his hands together. The Witcher ran his finger along the braid, noticing leaves gently weaved into the hair. He raised a brow and looked at Jaskier, amusement sparkling in his eyes.
"You look pretty!" Jaskier blurt out, his voice singing his amusement. Geralt shook his head, rolling his eyes at the bard. His heart rate picked up at the words however, but he ignored it.
"I'm not pretty, Jaskier." He grumbled, shifting to lay on the feeble attempt of a bed. He heard the bard shift to the blankets next to his, glancing at him. The Witcher could barely make out Jaskier's features with the fireside but he had the bard's looks memorized by now. "You're pretty."
A soft squeak-like sound emerged from the bard in question, Geralt chuckling softly at the sound. He shifted closer to the other, pretending it was just to be near the fire. Some part of him wanted to reach out and wrap an arm around the man but he held back. The braid was like a pillow as he slipped into sleep, for once feeling at true peace.
