Imagine Jaskier and you being stuck in a snowstorm and him having to warm you up
TW: allusions to sex, cursing, hypothermia,
Cold was not the word he would use to describe the environment right now. No, the word didn't even begin to cover it. Freezing wouldn't either. Both those words were too... short, simple, and in no possible way conveyed just how low the temperature around him and his companion was. Freezing cold? Maybe, but as Jaskier painfully trudged through the snow with Y/n at his side, both of them shivering to the core, he knew that no words in the Common Tongue could describe the tight, bitter feeling that kept snapping at his cheeks, reaching down to his very bones.
They had lost Geralt in the rush of the snowstorm, the witcher having been cut off from their trail by the falling of snow from a steep cliff. Jaskier and Y/n were left alone, trying to keep themselves on the trail as best they could as they forced their eyes to stay open in search of the road. They knew where they were going, but without being able to see the sun, finding east and west was near impossible. They had no way of reaching Geralt, for he had to cut back and go around the large pile of snow that blocked his way to Ard Carraigh. He had Roach with them, so all of Y/n's belongings were gone, along with her extra, dry, cloak.
Now, Jaskier had to watch as she shivered through the thin material of her worn down, old, and patchy cloak that she hugged around her body. Her skin was wet and freezing from the snowflakes hammering onto her skin, and her eyelashes were covered in snow and ice. Her lips were turning blue, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open and on the road. He knew she was far worse off than she was, for he had his comfortable and closed doublet around his body. She had no such outer wear, instead only a thin soaked chemise and a leather jerkin she stole from a bandit.
Jaskier looked as best he could through the white blur of the snowstorm, trying to find any place to stop and wait out the weather before meeting back up with Geralt. His teeth were chattering roughly, and he could hear her own teeth through the wind of the storm. He hurried to her side, taking her by the arm as she struggled to walk through the snow, and helped them both up the trail. "I think I see a cave up ahead!" Jaskier shouted through the heavy winds, and she lifted her head slightly to see the opening in the rock face. With the way the wind was blowing, they would be out of the snow easy if they took shelter in there. "We need to wait it out and find Geralt when the blizzard ebbs!"
All she could do was nod her head, her tongue too heavy to speak real words. Jaskier saw her condition was worsening, and quickly moved the both of them as fast as he could to the opening of the cave, hoping there wasn't some manner of troll or beast inside. Luckily, it was a small cave, and he could see the end, so he quickly stepped as far as he could to the furthest side of the cave, away from the chilly opening. He set Y/n down, both of them shivering uncontrollably, but only she had a blue tint to her lips and her breathing was slow and shallow. Her eyes began to droop, so he quickly shook her awake. "'skier, m'wake," she managed to get out, but her lips felt so heavy, and she could just go to sleep if she wanted.
"Nononononono, Y/n, don't fall asleep," Jaskier begged her, shaking her to keep her awake. He needed to start a fire, but he wasn't exactly a survival expert. Geralt always started the fires. Jaskier was too busy strumming his lute to figure out how to start a fire in the wild. He looked her over, noticing her clothes were soaked and the snow on her was melting, only making her even more cold. "Okay, uh... I-I read about this once and, um... I need you to take off your clothes."
"Stop, 'skier. 'M jus' li'l cold," Y/n tried to refute when his hands reached down for her, but she was already so weak, and Jaskier's eyes were full of concern and urgency as he looked her over. He began to take off his doublet and laid it on the ground. "Wha're y'doin'?"
"Please, please, please, listen to me," Jaskier begged, and began to take off her wet cloak, lying it on the ground beside his doublet. He was cold, to be sure, but he had read that when one was experiencing symptoms like this, their wet garments should be removed and they need to be exposed to another person's body heat. Thank the gods for my time in Oxenfurt he thought, and pulled her wet jerkin off, followed by her chemise. He knew this was no time to blush, but he couldn't help it as he finished removing her wet garments before taking her in his arms and putting her underneath is dry chemise with him. He removed his trousers and tangled their legs together, getting as much skin on skin contact as he could. She gasped at his touch, and he couldn't tell if it was in warmth or in cold, but when she snuggled up into him, he tightened his hold on her.
"You're s-so warm..." Y/n mumbled into his chest, and he let a slight grin etch onto his face. He felt cold as ever, but even she helped with the feeling of warmth as they huddled together for the heat they gave off. He didn't know how long they laid on his doublet in the cave, just listening to the sound of the rough winds blowing by as they shook themselves awake every few minutes. Y/n's breathing had evened out, and her lips were no longer blue, but she was definitely still cold in the weather of the blizzard. They huddled as close as they could under the chemise, Jaskier every once and a while rubbing his hand up and down her back, the warmth it gave her greatly welcomed.
After what seemed like a few hours, Jaskier smiled a little to himself and said, "You know, I never really imagined it going this way."
Y/n let a small snort escape herself, making Jaskier's grin widen as she asked, "Imagined what, exactly? Having me bare beneath your arms?" She said it with a humorous tone, thinking he'd be jesting of such a thought.
"W-Well, in a short answer, yeah, sort of," Jaskier managed out, his voice rather too serious for Y/n humorous one.
Her smile dropped, and she furrowed her eyebrows before looking up at him with confusion. "What??" she questioned, and Jaskier looked at her sheepishly
"I mean- heh, uh, what I mean is I always thought I'd serenade you with a lovely song I wrote just for you and sweep you off your feet," Jaskier said, avoiding her eyes, for they were looking up at his face with shock. "I always imagine it would be the most romantic performance of my life, and you'd simply melt away like I do every time you look at me." Before she could say a word, he kept going. "But then I thought, 'why would such a woman as Y/n want a lowly bard as myself who can't even make good music without having to follow around a witcher and sometimes, sometimes steal lines from my rivals. Me, a runaway viscount and a failed bard, while this goddess of a woman could have fucking Geralt of Rivia-"
"Jaskier," Y/n cut him off, and he pursed his lips together as he finally met her eyes once more, his won swimming with longing, heartache, and... something else. His pupils were dilated, and his blue irises were nearly disappearing behind the black of them. She could feel her own self heating up as his eyes dragged slowly over her face. A tiny smirk made its way on her face, and she said, "My lips are still a little cold. Help me warm them up?"
His eyebrows shot up as he blinked at her sudden forwardness, before leaning forward as she did and gently pressing his lips to hers. It was soft at first, testing the water, before they pulled away and were immediately drawn back into a second kiss, far deeper than the first one. Jaskier held her closer, his arms tightening around her as he rolled her onto her back on the floor of the cave. "Which ones?" he asked cheekily, his hand drawing downward.
"Does it matter?" she answered back, and this allowed him to slip his tongue into the kiss, tasting her deeper as his hand ran up and down her thigh.
"Not to me. Either way," Jaskier breathed out, before finally bringing his hand where she needed him the most. Neither of them even noticed the blizzard had stopped quite a while ago.
☙⚘❧
Geralt was getting irritated. He was waiting in Ard Carraigh for his two companions to show up, having had to go around the trail and get there the long way, but he still got to the city first. The tavern they had planned to stay in before separating was rather bare, making it easy to spot anyone going in and out of the doors, but none of them had the familiar lute slung across their back, or that familiar mop of h/c hair that bounced even in the cold weather. Geralt was on his third mug of ale, the Kaedwenian Stout barely phasing his mutated body.
He was just about ready to get up and start to look for his travelling companions, when the two of them walked through the door of the tavern, looking gleeful as could be. His eyebrows furrowed, his cat-like yellow eyes following them as Jaskier finally spotted Geralt sitting alone in his corner. He pointed him out, and Y/n whispered something to him with a smile before heading off towards the bar, Jaskier coming up to Geralt side and plopping down in the chair with a contented sigh. "Isn't is just the most beautiful day you've ever seen? The snow, the wind, just the beauty of it all makes me want to write a thousand ballads about the loveliness of winter and snowfall!" he said, not even looking at Geralt.
The witcher would say this behavior was normal, except Y/n's wasn't. She was smiling more than he had ever seen her smile, and when she brought back three pints of ale, one for each of them, she too let out a content sigh. "Beer all around, my friends," she said, and clicked her tongue as she took one and downed a part of it, Jaskier happily taking the other while Geralt slowly took his, wondering what was the matter with his friend. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
The witcher dropped his eyebrows once more as Y/n looked down at Jaskier before taking a seat beside him. "I was just saying the very same thing, my dear. Oh, the songs I could sing, the joyfulness of it all," he said, looking off into the distance as he rambled about winter, Y/n putting her chin on her hand and watching him with admiration.
Geralt paused, his eyes gazing between the two of them. He sniffed, and if he wasn't mistaken, the scent of arousal hung heavily over the both of them. The lovesick, puppy-dog look in both their eyes should have been enough to tell him what happened during their alone time. Geralt let out a sigh, saying, "Fuck." They both looked at him, confused, before he held up his drink to his lips and said, "Just don't fuck anywhere near me or Roach on the road." At their stutters and overlapping words of protest, he finished his drink, stood, and said, "You both smell as if you came from a brothel. Don't be loud. I actually want to get some decent fucking sleep for once."
As he walked away, the two of them looked to each other, an awkward moment passed, before the two of them quickly stood and walked, hand in hand, to the room they would be sharing for the night. Geralt wished in that moment that the pillow he had would muffle the sounds his witcher hearing could pick up. They were far too loud.