Our Paths

Chapter 7: Departure

"What is the meaning of this witcher?"

"You spoke of beasts, and you have pressed the horses too long. They need rest if we are to encounter your monsters, unless you wish to be slaughtered," Geralt growled. "Set up camp here, or continue and risk your life senselessly. Your choice."

"Prepare camp," Matidous barked, climbing out of his cart and stomping towards Jaskier. "Bard?"

"Yes?" Jaskier turned to the angered man, keeping a safe distance from the Count.

"Keep that witcher in line, I will not tolerate more of his indecency," he approached Jaskier with heavy footfalls. The Count was a very tall man, Geralt was an inch or two taller than Jaskier, but this man dwarfed him easily. "If you cannot, there shall be punishment."

"I see," Jaskier hummed in thought, unfazed by the close proximity created. "You should know, I don't take kindly to threats, Matidous. Geralt may ignore your words on principle, but the moment you test my patience, understand it is you who will regret it. And his actions are his own, I do not go around puppeting a witcher. What fool tries to control another without wondering of the consequences? Do not try that again."

"You threaten me, bard," he laughed at the mere idea. "You think a bard could intimidate a Count. Even your witcher can't accomplish such a minor feat."

"My sir, Geralt may be a witcher but that does not make him someone to be feared. He is a heroic man, and one of patience most men couldn't even begin to imagine when it suits him. However I am a man, a bard of nobility, though my time as of late seems unfortunate, I assure you I've the power to end this here and now," Jaskier countered. "I do hope you recall my name of birth is not Jaskier."

"I know, bard. As if I would overlook who you are," Matidous nodded, "I am no imbecile, cruel perhaps, but not ignorant. And as of now you are no more than a meer hired bard to me. You forget the people your father deems his allies?"

"I think this conversation is over, Matidous. I believe once this is all said and done we will part ways for quite a while," Jaskier stated. "Good night."

"Sleep with one eye open bard, there's more you need worry of than your hire," Matidous called as he retreated.

Geralt glared at the Count, having overheard their conversation and the steady beat of Jaskier's pulse jump at the mention of his nobility. He, himself, never questioned the bard about it much. Jaskier tended to speak his mind more often than not, and would ramble for hours about his past or what he dreampt of. The topic of his nobility was frequently a sour one, and his father was scarcely mentioned beyond Jaskier's childhood.

Watching the bard now, he wondered if he should press to know more. But hearing the still erratic thrum of his heart, Geralt couldn't risk to pry at the moment. With the stench of fear radiating off the bard he instead moved to finish their set up. Also trying to steer his bard and Roach away from their latest threat. Leaving Jaskier to sit by their fire, staying clear of the group they traveled with.

Had he known better, Geralt would have denied the Count's contract. They had been low on coin, as they had before with much less, they would have pulled through. They always did, even when Geralt tired of people, the bard would make sure they'd stop nearby a village or town, earning coin by day and giving Geralt the space to actually relax. And at night, he'd sleep without a word to him if he felt so obliged. On some occasions it frustrated the witcher when the bard would do this, but in the end they'd have more than enough coin to travel well for a short period.

Now, Geralt was cautious to manage his finances. Something Jaskier knew how to, but didn't have the control to do himself. As for the moment he wouldn't allow the Count anywhere near his bard. The threats ringing in his ears, lighting a fire under his skin. Now growing at the prospect of others out for his bard.

Hoping to quell the itch, he ran his fingers through Roach's mane. Enjoying the intricate braids Jaskier had put in it on their ride. Nibbling on his forearm she looked intensely from the witcher to the bard. Tapping her hoof as she knocked her head back when glaring towards the Count's setup.

Laughing to himself, Geralt fastened her to a tree nearby. One final pat goodbye, he waved her good night and sat with his bard. Jaskier had calmed drastically over the half hour of settling. He leaned against the witcher, lute clutched close to his chest and eyes watching the blaze dance.

No words were spoken as they prepared for bed. A bedroll to be shared under the shelter of an old tattered tent. Still feeling a tad aggressive, Geralt waited until after a quick meditation before joining the bard on the bedroll. Tugging the blanket from the stubborn artist, having to yank the cloth material from him so he could properly cover them both.

Only to have Jaskier pull it back over himself and nuzzle into his back. Sighing to himself he laid there without complaint. Allowing sleep to take him once again this week. With the bard here it seemed sleep was becoming a commonality once more. Hopefully it would stay that way.